Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 59715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59715 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
“Uhrn?” I laugh. “Someone named you after an ashtray. I like Cream Cheese instead.”
“Shut up, pathetic human.”
Her words set me off. “I’m not pathetic. I’m loved. My king says I’m beautiful and we belong together.”
She shakes her head at me. “I’ll bring you something to help you sleep.”
“I don’t want to sleep! I want…” My voice fades into a whisper. I have no strength left. “I want my king,” I mutter. “His lips. His tongue on my skin.”
“He’ll be back soon enough. And if you care for your life at all, you will use the time apart to regain your strength.”
I don’t know what she means, and I don’t care. “Stop talking. I need to rest.”
“Yes. Yes, you do.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
I drift in and out of consciousness. Days. Weeks. A month. I don’t know. But with every passing hour, my head gets clearer, stronger, and the ache in my veins lessens. The only thing that doesn’t go away is my desire for Benicio. I catch myself with my wrist in my own mouth sometimes, yearning for that feeling again. I never draw blood, but I leave marks that Cream Cheese—I mean, Uhrn finds. She scolds me. I tell her to fuck off. She doesn’t care. Rudeness is the mother tongue here.
This morning, she takes me for a walk to get my strength up, but we only go around the interior of this palace. She tells me there are no windows because, well, vampires don’t care for them.
I don’t know why her use of the word vampire still shocks me. I know what Benicio is now. I assume she’s one, too.
“Can I ask you something?” I say as we trudge along the empty cold hallways. “Where are all the people?”
“People?”
“Creatures. Beings. Subjects. Whatever you call them.”
“Ah. Well, the servants have their own passages and rooms. Our king does not like them to be seen. He enjoys his privacy. Our soldiers remain outside in their forts, guarding the palace or fighting to quell the multitude of disputes around the world. The other subjects of the kingdoms are in their villages—working, sleeping, feeding.”
“And the giant?”
“What giant?” she asks.
“The enormous woman being drained of her blood down the hall from my room,” I say.
“How did you see her?”
I don’t reply.
“Well, the army has to eat,” she says.
“An army of vampires.”
“Yes.”
“Does Alwar know?” I ask.
She shrugs her black brows. “He does not need to know. We have a right to eat, just like any living creature. Besides, he is no longer the king. He has no say in our feeding habits.”
“What was it like when he was the ruler?” I have to ask.
She takes a moment. “It was before my time, but they say that Alwar was too soft—a trait very few admire in this world.”
“Alwar? Soft?” I’ve met broken glass that was more pleasant.
“It is believed that he showed mercy to his enemies,” she says with disgust.
“Oh no. A merciful king. How can anyone respect that?” I say dryly.
“Power is a serious thing. Our world is full of ruthless, bloodthirsty creatures of every walk of life from the biggest to the small. A kind king, a merciful king cannot keep order among so many savages.”
“How many savages?” How many are here, hoping to end my world, my town, my home?
“Counting the trolls?”
I nod.
“Over ten trillion.”
“That’s a lot of savages.”
“No. Not really. Half belong to the kingdoms where they are plentiful in numbers but very small in size.”
“And deadly, I’m guessing?”
She nods.
“So why haven’t they taken over?”
“They are not intelligent enough to maintain power. They toil away, stuck in the past, worshipping their false gods, refusing to break their traditions or rituals. Some kingdoms even make it illegal to work on certain days so they can praise their gods.” She shakes her head. “Makes them easy targets for groups who only worship bloodshed—like the Skins.”
“Skins?”
“I believe you call them shifters in your idiotic human fables. But they are savage beasts who take the form of other creatures, usually after they’ve eaten them. They use the leftover skins as disguises, pretending to be something weak and easy to kill. Then they lure in larger creatures and attack.”
“That’s pretty cutthroat.” It’s like eating a bunny, saving the bunny fur, and then prancing around to trap a coyote for your next meal.
“It is a very effective hunting technique,” she says with admiration. “In fact, it is so efficient they have driven several groups to extinction. This is why we need a ruthless king to oversee all kingdoms and ensure killing and hunting are done in a responsible way. And if all the creatures were dead, what would be left to eat?”
“So peace is really about making sure there’s enough meat, blood, whatever to go around?” Barbaric.
“Every living thing must eat.”
Yeah, but their version is like saying: Let’s not go to war with Canada, because we really like eating them. Monsterland politics.