Page 16 of The Hollow King

The bastard of the village tried to sit up. What amused me was that he was not fearful of me at all. His hatred burned only for her. My eyes flicked back at her. She had not moved.

“Do you think she is to blame for the attack on the village?”

His head snapped back to me before fear struck his eyes and he tried to curl himself against the wall.

“Borin,” I yelled.

The hinges of my door groaned as Borin appeared. It was good to know he was not hiding in the shadows of my bedchamber this morn.

“Yes. Yes, Master. Borin is here to serve.”

“I brought you a pet to keep in the dungeon. You may play as roughly as you want with him.”

Borin tilted his head until it almost touched his shoulder and he could see me with his good eye.

“Borin play?”

“Yes. You can keep him for yourself or let the others join in too. Just don’t kill him.”

His head snapped up.

“Aww,” he whimpered. “Borin wanted to bash.”

The horror in the nobleman’s face was satisfying. I shook my head when Borin produced an iron collar and chain from his person. Perhaps I had corrupted Borin. I could not remember what he had been before his current form.

“Do not touch me you vile creature. Devil. Demon. Satan’s spawn.”

Borin swung the chain, clobbering the collar across the man’s head. His delighted laughter made the girl raise her head to look at him. She smiled as Borin muttered to himself while securing the collar on the man’s neck.

“What is your name?”

I frowned at my question. How had she gone from it to she and now I wanted a reminder of her name? What did it matter?

“Never mind,” I snapped as her lips parted to answer me.

Borin was dragging his prize away, smearing the wood with blood. I stared at the bloodstain and thought of my Queen. The painful reminder that stabbed into my soulless form. The anguish and rage that always followed. The reason why I locked her away from my heart and mind. Why I locked them in the area that should have been used by us when our child came.

I reached for the woman's arm, flipping her around and ignoring her startled cry. I pressed my claw down on the vein at her wrist. Her skin parted like the finest silk tearing before rich dark blood gushed out. I raised her arm and closed my mouth around the wound.

But when I glanced at her eyes, there was no conflict, only sadness and resignation. It did not stop me from harvesting her life force. The hot blood was too fine to waste.

Strength filled my body and I sucked harder when the flow lessened. I would need a deeper cut next time.

“I do not fear death, my Lord,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “I welcome it.”

I released her arm, but she did not open her eyes. Her chest rose and fell. I placed my palm over her wrist and recited the incantation of the Gods.

“Do not seek mercy or try to fool me, wench,” I said, my voice stiff and cold.

The corners of her lips turned upwards and I clenched my jaw.

Was it mocking me?

Her eyes opened and the grey appeared silver under the morning sunlight.

“I only have four days left. Why would I waste them in trying to deceive you?”

I glared at her for a moment, but her eyes dropped lower and she wet her lips, pulling her lower lip in before releasing it. My mouth became dry even though I had fed moments prior.