In Vita, I had been safe from his ways. Now, on his playing field and drawing closer to his domain with each passing second, having no idea what he wanted from me, it was more important than ever that I keep my composure. I couldn’t lose sight of myself or I’d fail before I had the chance to get started.
After another few minutes, the road split into a circle, revealing two more transporters already parked and emptied.
The dark citadel itself stood massive and proud in all its Gothic glory, spreading out in front of the dark mountains that served as a backdrop beneath a hauntingly beautiful moon. It glowed yellowish orange, like an ember.
Toby easily maneuvered the rig behind the others, the exhaust groaning loudly when he shifted into park, as if the engine itself had taken a deep breath and released it.
As we waited for him to get his bearings and retrieve us, I studied the exterior of the citadel. Whoever built this had put their heart and soul into the detailed architecture. From the tall, convex windows to the towers with conical roofs, everything was elaborately detailed.
“Rise,” a foreign voice suddenly commanded from the rear of the trailer.
The three of us turned our heads in unison to see a guard opening the rear hatch, not bothering to lower the ramp.
After sharing a glance with Scarlett and Jacinda, I steadily rose to my feet with as much grace as I could muster. Shoes a size too small carried me towards the exit and the supe wearing a uniform different from all the rest, medal clippings demonstrating that he was of higher station than the other guards. His opal eyes roamed over my person, double irises revealing he was a vampire.
Toby reached the back of the rig just as I stepped down. He’d fully fitted himself in the drab brown uniform and matching ivy cap. He’d even tried to tame his overgrown bushel of hair.
I looked around, noticing the lack of others. I wasn’t expecting a red carpet or welcome party, but I’d anticipated a bigger spectacle than a few lingering guards.
“I can handle this,” Toby stated with a fake accent, reaching for the bit of slack between my shackles.
The guard’s quick reflexes saw him immediately stopped with an arm blocking his hands. “You must be new. That isn’t how it works. You bring them in. We present them.”
“And my compensation? The reward?”
“You bring them in. We present them,” the guard repeated coldly. “He’ll see if she’s real or fraud. If she’s the latter, money is the last thing you’ll need to worry about. If she’s who we’ve been waiting for, you’ll be set the rest of your meager life.”
“Fraud?” Scarlett questioned as she stepped down behind me.
The man’s opal eyes shifted to her. “You would be surprised at how many were foolish enough to risk their lives trying to deceive the sovereign.”
I kept my mouth shut, unsure how to respond to that, or if I should. Insisting I was the real deal could draw suspicion we didn’t need. I glanced over my shoulder as Jacinda stepped from the back of the transporter.
Her golden eyes were set on another guard who was on his way over, this one a burly man with long red hair and the pack marking of a Lycan, which made him infinitely stronger than Toby. I leaned backward slightly when he rudely sniffed too close for comfort.
“You need to wait,” he said, dark eyes going to Toby. “She reeks of your scent. He’ll slaughter you the second he catches a whiff of it,” he went on to explain when Toby opened his gob to protest. “You’re no longer permitted to touch the King’s property, especially her.” He directed his last words at me.
“Property?” Scarlett muttered from behind me.
The words prickled my skin too, but I made sure my face remained blank.
Their king could call me whatever he wished if it meant helping my people.
“Should’ve let ‘em walk to where death was waiting, Herald. He was the one who got too close,” the vampire replied indifferently.
My brows met in confusion. Why did it matter to the king what I smelled like?
“Let’s go. You take the rear,” my solemn vampire ordered the Lycan dressed in a uniform similar to his. “Don’t try anything,” was said to me before he turned and strode back towards the citadel.
The threat made clear, I trailed after him, unable to risk a glance at Toby. I couldn’t let our gazes potentially give something away. His distress was already too great for a simple slave trader driver doing his job.
We traveled up wideset stairs, across a large, dark stone landing, and then up another before walking through the expansive outdoor courtyard to reach the entrance.
Something about this seemed oddly familiar. I didn’t understand where this sudden sense of recognition was coming from. It was as if I’d studied an image of this exact setting in a picture book and then committed it to memory.
Shrubs were neatly trimmed, and the fern-colored lawn was meticulous. It was very quiet here and lacking presence, making me wonder what the hour was. Ahead of us, matte double-doors groaned loudly as they were pulled open by another set of stone-faced guards.
The eerie silence was interrupted by a barrage of hushed voices from somewhere inside the massive palace.
With a quick peek over my shoulder, my eyes met Jacinda’s and Scarlett’s as I stepped over the threshold. The detailed architecture displayed on the building's exterior continued inside. Dark marble floors and iron banisters gleamed. The dramatically dimmed chandeliers that hung from the vaulted ceilings had an immaculate sparkle to them.
Tall, flickering candles on pedestals and wall sconces helped brighten our surroundings. There was a slight reprieve; the air was cool and not near roasting as it was outside. The scent of black primrose and chimeras permeated everything else around us. The lethal synthetic creatures seemed to be everywhere, mingling with the supes.
Some were allotted as guards donning a customary black uniform with gold adornments.
The majority were simply loyal to the Abaddon kingdom.
Multiple heads swiveled to look upon our small procession. My eyes traveled up one of two grand staircases and over the terrified faces of those who’d been brought here by tradesmen, many of them demis.
The guard we’d been following abruptly turned and stepped by me to Jacinda.
He removed the ragged coat she was swimming in with no change in expression when her full body came into view.
“Herald, watch them,” he ordered before turning on his heel and stalked away.
I worked on keeping my face impassive, desperately trying not to let my emotions show as I quickly looked her over.
She appeared utterly ill. I was surprised that she was standing so tall and resolute.
It had to be the Smilodon in her, too dignified to wilt or show weakness when surrounded by predators.
A sudden rush of movement had me turning back to face the other way. Fumbling with my gown’s dirty skirt, I watched as guards divided those on the stairs into smaller batches. Orders were given in the same language I’d never learned. Each group was led through a set of elaborate, arched doors in timely intervals. Every five minutes, close to six, another was ushered through.
Every so often, screams emanated from whatever lay beyond. Sometimes, begging and sobbing followed suit.
Each time the doors swung open, more disappeared inside. It was impossible not to notice that those taken in were not coming back out and increasingly difficult to stand and witness.