4. from the ashes

4

from the ashes

Rivian

THIRTEEN YEARS AGO – December 10th

It's almost midnight and the sounds that echo through the dark air surrounding are only that of the natural creeks the castle is prone to and the gentle whistle of the wind that sweeps against the windows. But not all stays quiet in the night; it's where I learned to find secrets and why I love sticking to the shadows.

That, and it's my solitude.

I remove the blanket from my body, allowing the cold air to wisp over my bare torso, welcoming the crisp sting to caress my raw wounds.

Earlier today, I'd suffered whips to the back—by chain this time—and a few more cigarette burns on my chest. The skin still burns where the cherry-lit ashes sizzled on contact, but not in a way that makes me want to cry like I used to—like when I was eight—or angry like I'd used to get—when I was fourteen. It stings now in a way that makes me crave more. I want more pain, and I want to inflict it on others just the same.

My back aches with the feeling of thick, cold, silver metal coming down against my shoulder blades and spine as I attempt to get out of my bed, feeling the fresh memory of my father beating me into strength buzzing against my skin.

Pain is power , he growled as the chains came down against me. I stood up straight this time, much improvement to the times I'd hurdle into fetal position when I was younger. Power means fear of nothing. Lash. Fear of nothing means you are in control . Lash, lash. That is how a king runs their kingdom you weak boy.

Dad, stop! I used to beg my dad. You are no son of mine! I don't raise weak boys, he'd tell me in response.

As I got older, I stopped fighting against it. I'd just let it happen. But it only seemed to get worse the more compliant I got.

As I make my way to the hallway, quiet not to disturb the rest of the castle, I make a note of the time.

One more hour , I tell myself.

One more hour and my life will change forever.

I tiptoe down the hallway, not expecting to bump into anyone. The amber lighting from the ornate candelabras—one every two feet along the wall—illuminates the space with only enough light to keep the atmosphere seeming ominous. But I'm not afraid of the dark. I revel in it.

I get lost in my thoughts for a moment, thinking about what might be different after the day ends and the new one begins, but when a teen-aged girl jumps out around the corner and yells Boo! , I won't lie . . . I do jump, but just a little.

"What the hell?" I shout to her in a heated, low whisper. Her blonde ponytail still bouncing about as a quirky smile falls over her face.

"Whatcha doing up so late?" she asks. Her voice is spunky, almost as if she's speaking in bubbles.

"Who the hell are you? And what are you doing in the Royal castle?" I look behind her to make sure no one else is going to jump out at me, but also to make sure she didn't cause too much noise to bring attention to us.

"I couldn't sleep," she twirls a strand of hair from one of her pigtails around her index finger, giving me a small pout while doing so. "My father and I just settled in a few days ago and I wanted to see my future husband." She winks at me, and I shiver.

"Future husband?" I ask, but then it hits me. "Birdania?" I peg her with my confused eyes, the greens likely clouded by the dim lighting, but nothing can fog the blues in hers.

"Ugh, I hate that name." She rolls her eyes as she leans a shoulder against the wall nearest her. "Call me Birdie." Her smile holds its place, curling up at me as she lets her eyes gaze over my pajama-clad lower half and my shirtless top half.

"I think I'll stick to Birdania," I tell her, knowing that it will piss her off.

I've never met my betrothed before. I've only heard my father talk about her on occasion. And I was in attendance when my father had a meeting with her father about such plans. They come from a different Society due to a contract made between them and my father. I was thirteen then. I'm almost eighteen now. Meaning I've been engaged to the perky blonde in front of me for nearly five years now and as I take ten seconds to get a good look at her, I can't say I'm impressed.

"How old are you?" I ask her, not expecting a straightforward answer seeing as I intentionally disrespected her. But she is more than happy to oblige as she reaches out and traces my abs with her fingers.

"Just turned nineteen. I like the idea of you being the younger of us two, what do you think?" She smirks and I watch her, not caring if this is something she might actually want. This is not a game to me.

People's lives are not little colored plastic pieces on a square gameboard that we can just move three spaces forward or force back to start. Those who like playing games like that are sadistic and I want no part of it.

I hear Birdania gasp, and I look down to see her pull her hand away quickly. My scars and fresh burns likely catching her attention. Strange. I didn't even feel her touch me there.

"What happened to you?" Her face morphs from happy-go-lucky to disgusted real quick and it gives me all the ammunition I need to push her out of my way.

That look . That's the look my father gives me before he leads me into the dungeon. It's degrading and rude. Like I'm not worthy. Like I'm nothing.

I walk past her turning the corner, but she doesn't hold back from being hot on my heels.

I don't want to get married, especially not to her. This whole life is pointless without someone who loves you, someone to love back; at least that's what my mother always said. I won't be forced into pretend love and stupid games of power. I have no purpose here other than to carry on some stupid legacy of being the next king. But I don't want it.

Fuck this life.

"Where are you going?" Birdania follows me down the hall as I walk angrily toward the main part of the castle.

"None of your business. Go back to your compound before I have the guards take you." I don't even spare her the glance as she tags along behind me, skipping as if we're going on a field trip.

"The guards don't scare me," she teases.

I stop and turn my body to her, pushing her up against the closest wall, caging in on her.

"Kaci-" I start to shout the name of my father's Factotum. Not a guard in fact, but the scariest and oldest vampire in the castle.

Birdania freezes up and jumps to her tiptoes, bringing her hand to my mouth and scowling at me.

"Don't," she begs, and I just look at her in amusement. Dumb girl.

"Don't touch me ever again." I grip her arm, making a scene to squeeze it a little harder than I really need to before tearing it away from my mouth.

Her face morphs to frustration as I walk away leaving her behind. Fiancé or not, I don't have time to play house with idiot girls who have no sense of anything other than being someone's wife. If I'm expected to take the crown someday, she can't be the one promised to me as the next queen.

I leave her behind, not feeling the smallest ounce of sympathy as I make my way toward the blood room. Maybe if I can cut the power off in the room somehow, I'll be given more time to come up with a plan before I'm forced to my destiny.

The blood room is the room that stores vials of blood, keeping it fresh for free consumption or for times like…

Screams echo in the hallway causing me to turn my attention the other direction. I freeze, waiting to see if I hear it again, standing still and even holding my breath, but instead I'm met with silence. I shake it off, yearning to get to the blood room. It could have been anything. Nocturnes chasing an Outsider for the thrill. Someone watching a horror film, or…

"Why don't you do it?" A woman's voice carries over my thoughts and flits through the empty hallway.

This time, I don't stop and think, I walk.

I head toward where I heard the voice come from. It sounded a lot like my step-mother. But shouldn't they be out at the party with the rest of the Royals and their guests? Tonight, after all, is ultime nocte . My final night.

Final Night is a celebration of sorts, usually popular for the night before weddings when an Outsider is marrying into a Nocturne family and will turn into a vampire the next day. Tonight, it's in celebration of my final night as a human. One more hour.

But I wasn't invited. To my own fucking party, I wasn't invited. I was forced to be tied down by chains, beaten and burned by my worthless piece of shit father because he wanted to prepare me for what was to come. His father did it to him a hundred years prior so he'd do it to me, day in and day out. So now as everyone is out celebrating my last night as a human, I roam the hallways like I normally do on cold dark nights, usually to allow myself some sort of peace from the shitshows that are my days. But when day breaks and the sun rises over the tops of trees and glistens against the waters, I know I'm in for a world of pain. And tomorrow will be no different, only it will be.

I'll be reborn.

As I approach the room where the arguing is coming from, I realize that my father and step-mother aren't actually at the party anymore.

I step up to the side of the closed doors to their bedroom, hearing both voices echo as they speak over each other.

"Because I am your king and I want you to do it!" My father yells at Ameliana, the queen.

Ameliana was found just a few weeks ago, after running away eleven years prior. She'd run away after giving birth to my half siblings and ever since my father brought her back, they've been like this nonstop. Maybe it’s the symptoms of her vampirism— they performed the blood bind a few days ago and she was finally forced to turn.

I never knew why my father hated me so much, that he used me as a scapegoat for his anger. His need to punish someone undoubtedly always fell on me, but I took it because I wanted him to like me, even just a little bit. But I won’t lie, I’m happy someone else is taking the brunt of whatever has him so displeased.

I listen closer as I hear things being thrown now; leaning against the doorframe and holding my ear to the wooded door. Grunts filled the air, likely from someone being hit by something. And then Ameliana speaks up again.

"I didn't sign up for this, Renard."

"King! You will call me King," he demands, his voice booms so loudly the doors shake. "And you in fact did sign up for this!" I step back, my chest rising and falling knowing that I could get caught and I'd be right back in the dungeon, tied up to the cold metal chair or chained to the cement wall.

Sometimes, it had even lasted for days. No food, no water.

To make sure you can survive on nothing , he'd tell me. And boy, could I.

"I will call you King over my dead body," Ameliana spits at him and then more things bang against the walls.

I don't know why they are like this. Maybe he's pissed at her for taking off all those years ago the first time, making him look high and low for her. Making him run a kingdom alone which is not a respected feat these days. Kingdoms are run by a king and a queen. Lore deems them powerless without both. But for whatever reason she did leave. As much as I hate her, I can't really blame her. But I don't feel pity for her. She did this to herself.

Why my mother loved this man, I'll never know. Maybe she faked it, but I doubt my mother had a fake bone in her body. She was caring, genuine, and sweet. And my father never spoke to her the way he's handling his wife now. But one day, out of the blue, he'd brought home Ameliana and broke the news to the whole kingdom that she was his anima vinculum. News that even my mother had found out in real time with the rest of the kingdom, like a peasant and not the queen. Tethers are rare, and when found, lore demands you act on them, even if already married. Facts I learned in Nocturne classes which are forced on teens the year prior to their turning year.

My mother's marriage to my father was simply out of contract. I'm unaware how that came about, but despite being seventeen years old about to be married off to an eighty-year old vampire, my mother was willing and loved with her whole heart.

Then, she was gone. I didn't even get to say goodbye.

The abuse started shortly after.

"If you don't obey my orders, wench, I will have for your daughter's head!" My father's tone growled into the hallway, and I heard Ameliana gasp.

"You wouldn't dare touch her. That was a part of our deal." Her voice sounds worried, and it drives me to curiosity.

Daughter? Deal?

Could they be talking about Troian or…

"She's a pretty little thing, isn't she? Eyes just like yours, colorless yet magical in the moonlight." Silence filled the air.

Ameliana had gray eyes, a color so rare, I'd only seen them on her. Troian had my father's colored eyes; blue just like Trav, except Travois' left eye was split between the blue and gray, also a very unique feature. But he can't be talking about Troy then, because Troy didn't have eyes like my step-mother does.

"I'll do what you ask, Renard. But I swear to God if you touch a hair on any of their heads, you'll live to regret it!" Ameliana shouts back against my father, I press my ear further into the wood of the door to listen closely.

But within a flash, something bangs against the door, causing me to fall back onto my ass.

"Threaten me in my castle again and you won't live to see the things I'd do to your beloved children." My father likely had thrown his wife up against the doors, surprised that the door held its lock but I didn't stick around to find out what was going to happen next.

I stand up and walk hastily down the hallways, thinking about the argument.

She asked for protection for her kids in whatever agreement she had with my father, likely a promise he made in order for her return. And whoever she was talking about before couldn't have been Troian.

But something else sits deep in my gut even more than that . . . I am not one of her kids. Meaning, she didn't care what was going to happen to me, what has already happened to me.

My step-mother: defiant, argumentative, and only looking out for herself. I can't even say she cares about her own kids either though despite her fight to make sure this deal is kept, because she left them here once before with him . But they didn't get the same attention from my father that I did. So obviously, their deal meant something to him.

But my mother wanted to be here. She did everything my father asked and more. She was kind, beautiful, loving, sincere and she wanted this life. She pledged her vows, raised me to crave love like hers and in the moments that Ameliana walked through the door, all of that changed.

But as I race back over to the blood room, I accidently knock into someone as I rush to turn a corner.

"Ouch," a girl's voice cries and I roll my eyes as I rub my head.

"Birdania, I told you to back off."

"Who the hell is Birdania?" I look up in the darkness, seeing my little sister on the ground, also rubbing her head.

"Shit," I lean down to help her back up. "Sorry, Troy." I make sure she's not hurt before kissing her on her forehead. "And watch your mouth. You're too young for curse words."

She giggles. "But Trav curses all the time and we're the same age!" she protests, and I roll my eyes again, grabbing her hand to walk her down the hallway.

"Travois is a punk who doesn't know right from wrong," I tell her.

"That's not very nice, Rivian. Just because you're about to be eighteen doesn't mean you're the boss over us." I know she's teasing me, but I can tell my twelve-year old sister craves freedom just as much as I do. I'm grateful she hasn't had to endure the pain I've suffered.

There was one time where I thought my father might take a different route and take his wrath out on one of the twins, but I volunteered myself for trouble that day just to make sure his eyes were on me.

"Where are we going? And who's Birdania?" she asks again as she trails along behind me.

" You are going back to bed, little sis." I pin her with my big brother eyes, "And Birdania is my supposed fiancé," I tell her truthfully because there is no point in lying to my little sister.

"Ooooo. Do you love her?" We reach the end of the hallway where she needs to break off to go back to her room, the blood room is just down the opposite side.

I turn Troian to me and bring her chin up to look at me. Her cute smile disappears into a serious, focused frown.

"Love does not exist in this world. Not in this world or the next. Do you understand me?" I hold my gaze into her pretty blue eyes. My little sister is the most innocent being in the confines of this castle; I hate that she's a part of this world. I want nothing more than to protect her and make sure she's not tainted by the way these monsters live. Monsters like what I am about to become.

"So…" her lips quiver and her eyes well with tears, "so, you don't love me?" I hate the pain laced in her tone. I shouldn't have said that to her, but I don't want for her what my father had done to my mother. Or what her mother has done to her and will likely do to us again.

Leave . Love always leaves you hollow and broken.

" I am the only one who loves you. I will always protect you and keep you safe. But if anyone else tells you they love you, they're lying." I let go of her chin and wipe the tears from her soft cheeks.

I know I'll disappoint her someday. It's in my blood. But I have to prepare her for the worst. This life is cold.

"Now go back to bed. And don't tell anyone you saw me out here." I turn her around and face her down the right direction.

A grandfather clock rings in the vast emptiness of the night, the castle lighting up with the gentle sounds of midnight striking.

Troy dips her head before whispering, "Happy Birthday, Rivian." And then she walks away.

I sigh, disappointed in myself for reasons I can't even decide are true. But I can't sulk in them right now, I have to get to the blood room if I have any chance at surviving this. Or at least getting ahead of it.

But it's too late. As soon as I reach the doors to the room, my father and step-mother are already in there, grabbing the vial of blood intended for me.

"Oh, son. Eager to get things started, are we?" My father looks at me with death in his eyes, hunger, like his whole life was made to witness this exact moment.

Sure, your first born turning should be an exciting thing, and maybe I might have been anticipating this moment as well, had I not been exposed to the kind of villain that lives inside vampires. Maybe if I was born to a different man…

He's been around long enough to witness a lot of disturbing things, but I'm sure getting to watch his most hated son die just to turn into the monster he is himself is something he's been looking forward to for a while. And now, it's time.

I see tears well in Ameliana's eyes as she opens the vial of blood, likely still upset at the fight she doesn't know that I overheard them have just moments ago. I give the pitiful woman a hard glance, making sure she knows I can't stand her.

I back up, hitting the wall. The lashes on my back sting but not enough to make me wince. If he sees me wince, he'd likely give me a few more before making me drink the blood.

The turning of a Royal was supposed to be a whole ritual. An audience and maybe even some finger foods and wine. But I always knew my turning wouldn't be so kind because I made it known I wouldn't be so willing. When I overheard plans of them to sneak attack me in my room while I was asleep, it led me to want to fight to ruin their plans. I just wasn't fast enough.

Weak boy , I can imagine my father telling me.

But maybe, if I just let the beast embrace me, I'd be able to show my father just how strong I actually am; just how much of a monster I can be. If that's what he really wants, then this is his mistake. He'll regret making me turn and he'll get what's coming for him.

Me.

I'll get my revenge on anyone who's ever wronged me no matter how I have to get it.

I watch the both of them practically corner me, Ameliana walking closer to me with the vial of blood and the excited look in my father's eyes makes me cringe. It's then that I promise myself I'll never have children of my own, no heir to continue my legacy. I can only hope that I would choose a path where I'm nothing like my father but the fact that I don't know what causes the switch is what concerns me. I very well could fall down the same path unintentionally.

He wasn't like this, not when my mother was around. That could only mean one thing . . . her.

"Rivian," Ameliana's voice brings me back to the scene before me. The walls caving in knowing that my fate is about to be met, my life is in their hands.

This was always the plan, I know that. But I look between the both of them and steel myself by straightening my back, not letting them know that I am scared, nervous, or disgusted. I think about how I should have just ended my life sooner. I should have been strong enough to evade this unfortunate ending by guaranteeing I wouldn't be available for such a cruel destiny. Lifeless humans don't make very good sacrifices for a monsters' plans.

"Do it," I spit at him, taunting him one last time. He acts unbothered by my threat; his angry eyes pretend to hold command. But I decide that I'm going to take this into my own hands.

I snatch the blood out from Ameliana's hands, she gasps, shocked, and I look my father dead in the eyes as I tip back the small beaker, downing the thick, red liquid. The taste is tangy but sweet and I let it warm my throat as I swallow it down.

His wicked smile reaches me as I wait for him to do what he needs to do next, kill me.

I know vampires can get wrapped up into too many pointless emotions after turning. Another thing we're taught in those stupid classes. Emotions drive us and in vampirism, we tend to strive on the focus of one particular emotion. Usually, the emotion manifests itself to drive the type of character we hold as vampires, but in my case, I decide to channel the emotion I am going to drive off of. If I don't, I know I'll be stuck in the one thing I know I can't fathom to want after all that I've gone through. I need to live in my vampirism for the sole sake of making sure everyone pays for the hand they played in my life.

I require justice for my mother and pain to everyone else who didn't think twice about hurting me.

I close my eyes and force that feeling to the front before securing it in the back of my mind and I push all other trivial feelings out of sight, where I know they'll stay buried until I feel satisfied in my act for revenge.

Next thing I know, the beaker drops from my hand and shatters against the floors as I'm forced further against the wall. I peel my eyes open and force them onto my father, making me sick as I prepare for what comes next.

"Sorry, kid," Ameliana's voice hits my ear. She approaches me, and I take my last breath to whisper back, "Yeah, me too."

Everything goes black and I die.