“I should’ve known better when I was told we had a Hound in our midst.” The King said it with feigned anger, but he ended with a dark chuckle. I couldn’t see him yet- Galan’s hand was still held out in a wait motion, keeping me hidden from the King’s sight. “Of course it would be you.”

“Is there an issue, father?” Larelis’ voice asked from behind me, and I felt the tangy bitterness of his suspicion. He took a step closer, almost within arm’s reach of me. I didn’t have to turn to feel his eyes on the back of my head, waiting for the order to kill me.

“Be on your way, Larelis.” Mirin’s answer came in a clipped, gruff tone. Larelis breathed in sharply, and I could almost hear the pain in it. It wasn't physical, bodily pain, but much worse. “Lothaire,” Mirin said in the absence of Larelis’ acknowledgement.

“Father?” Lothaire asked, brushing past me to appear in the doorway next to Galan.

“See your brother to his rooms. It is best for you both to retire for the night. We have much to discuss come tomorrow.” His tone was foreboding, and a shiver racked my shoulders from the cold in his voice. I didn’t envy either of Mirin’s sons, no matter the wealth that came with it.

“Of course.” Lothaire gave his best to sound unbothered, but his anger slipped, showing in his eyes. He took a step back before giving his father a stiff bow. When he straightened, he turned on his heel in a sharp motion. It was almost exaggerated, like he was making a silent point to his father.

Lothaire’s eyes met mine, and that anger deepened. His brow creased, but his gaze had dipped to examine my body. I felt naked under his stare despite the gown and cloak I wore, especially compared to the women of Lonest I’d seen thus far. They were covered in layers upon layers, the only exposed skin being their faces and necks.

Subtly, I moved Galan’s cloak to cover more of my front. Lothaire hadn’t missed that, and those golden eyes held mine once more. It didn’t feel like his anger was directed at me individually, but more what I stood for. That pointed look was beginning to soften around the edges when he grabbed his brother’s arm and started back down the hallway with Larelis in tow.

Side by side, Lothaire looked every bit of the older brother. He was taller, and had a certain aura about him. Lothaire was both a domineering presence and uncomfortable to be around. His armor clinked softly as they departed, and it was I who caught the glance of Larelis as he looked back over his shoulder.

Nothing but pure hatred. It was somewhat refreshing to have a clear and decisive answer about one thing, even if it was incredibly small like this. Larelis hated me, not just what I was, and he wore those feelings on his sleeve. He wanted it known he would have me killed if he could.

How could I blame the prince?

After all, I was a vampyr that contributed nothing meaningful to a living society. I brought death, and here I was, in his castle. How frustrating and demeaning that must be, for a mortal royal like Larelis.

The fact that I could sympathize with them sobered me instantly. I shouldn’t feel anything for them; I was very much their enemy, and them mine.

“Did the vampire die? Where is it?” King Mirin’s voice snapped me back into myself. He sounded teasing, like he’d just told a joke. I turned back around in time to see Galan’s quick check on me. There was regret in his eyes when he lowered his hand and gave a small jerk of his head, motioning for me to come closer.

I’d do as Galan commanded. My heart was beating rapidly against the confines of my chest, threatening to burst through. I fought the urge to rub my chest. Instead, I laced my hands before me and came to Galan’s side.

The room was relatively small, with only enough room to fit a handful. The king sat behind a grand desk made of smoothed and polished wood, stained into a dark, reddish hue. If I were to have built a man from imagination based on his voice, Mirin matched it.

He was broad shouldered, and despite the massive, tall-backed chair he sat in, he dwarfed it in size. His beard was neat and trimmed, reaching nearly to his chest in curly strands of golden blond hair. It matched the soft waves of his light hair, the same as his sons. Only the fine lines in his keen face told me he was any older than his eldest son. He was slumped over his desk, one arm propping himself up, as if in boredom.

Those familiar, golden eyes examined me from head to toe, and wasn’t ashamed doing so. He lingered in areas until I felt uncomfortable, memorizing me as if I’d change tomorrow. In turn, I did the same to him, but he welcomed my gaze. The king leaned back in his seat, a coy expression pulling at his sharp features. He was an intimidating man, and he hadn’t said a word to me yet.

Mirin wore a soft, white, long sleeved tunic that flared into frilly lace at the wrists, loose and hanging from his arms. A long cape that shrouded his shoulders had been tied at his neck, made of stark white fur. I saw flashes of gold under the flickering light of his multiple candelabras, sparkling amidst the detailing of his tunic. “Hello,” Mirin practically purred at me, breaking the silence we had entered. “Is this the pure-blood?” He asked Galan.

“Yes,” he answered, short and as dismissive as the king’s question had been. Galan, unlike Lothaire and Larelis, had mastered his ability to keep his thoughts and emotions to himself. What I felt from him was brief, and random, and it’d been in unexpecting moments.

“What’s your name, little vampire?” Mirin didn’t bother with hiding his accent as his son had done. I was unsure what to think of this king- the first king I’d ever met, and probably the last. My world, once small, had grown beyond my grasp and I was out of my water here. What was I supposed to do, kneel like the people of Lonest? Or bow, as Lothaire had done? Or did I do nothing, like Galan?

Galan, once again, came to my rescue. “I was told you have no further use of pure-bloods,” he interjected before I could give the king my name.

“That doesn’t mean I will not find a use,” Mirin sniped back. “Do not make me ask again for your name, vampire.”

He spoke in such a tone it had thrown me back into Reddon. He was a priest speaking down to me, and Ascelin I wanted to rise against it. Authority had always struck a cord of defiance within me, something I had no right to ever feel. “Claudia,” I said at last. I’d debated giving a false name, but truly there was no point in that either.

Mirin broke out into laughter, boisterous and obtrusive to the calm that had been occupying the castle. “Such a pretty name, spoken with such anger.” His laughter continued for a while longer before settling into softer chuffles, then eventually he was silent again. I wasn’t sure what to do with myself in the time I waited for him to regain his composure.

We were still crowded, shoulder to shoulder, taking the full space of the doorway. I had a sudden moment where I also wanted to burst into laughter, and ask what I was doing here. What was I doing here, anyways?

Sure, I was a guest to the kingdom, but then what was Galan doing here? The question still remained on just how this king knew my Hound. I didn’t know how to act, or how to present myself before a title such as this. This was surely a quick way to learn, and I supposed I’d find out if I did anything wrong. I almost took a deep breath before remembering the king had his attention set solely on me.

“Claudia,” Mirin repeated my name back to me. He was staring at me like he’d figured out a use for me, and it wasn’t one I’d enjoy, based on the look in his eye. “And which house did you belong to?” He asked me.

House? Briefly, I wondered if I was going insane, like Marienne.

I had no way to answer him. “Forgive me, King Mirin, but I don’t understand the question.” I dipped my head, mostly to be free of that scrutinizing glare, but I also needed to appear submissive.

“Claudia has unfortunately suffered more memory loss than usually expected with the change. We are still working on it,” Galan said, and bravely entered the small room. Standing on the other side of the desk, Galan looked every part of Mirin’s counterpart, and more.

His hood had fallen back a long time ago, allowing those soft black tresses of hair to rest on his shoulders. A similar cloak to the one I wore draped over his shoulders, concealing most of his torso. The same, dark shade carried throughout the rest of his clothing. Though his tunic wasn’t as long as the people of Lonest, it was similar in the way it was intricately designed. His pants were fitted close to his calves and lower, but loose around the thighs.

They stared at each other for a long minute, engaged in a silent conversation I was not part of. Galan dominated the room, making it appear smaller than before. It was Galan who decided to break that silence, pulling himself to his full height. “I would ask that you pause your game, at least when it comes to Claudia. I’d rather our agreement, shaky as it’s been, remain in force for as long as it can, wouldn’t you?”

Mirin didn’t appear phased by Galan’s lack of acknowledgement to his title as King of Men. His expression hadn’t changed a fraction as he held Galan’s stare. The sly smile pulling at his lips held firm as he reached for a glass of an amber, murky liquid I assumed to be ale. As he lifted it to his mouth, he paused and pointed one of the fingers that’d been wrapped around the glass. “That one,” he said, stopping to take a sip. “Has nothing to do with that agreement. Quite the opposite, no?”

“What agreement?” I blurted out, unable to hold so many questions inside.

That smug expression quickly melted into anger, those golden eyes narrowing on me. The glass he held came slamming back down on the table. “It’d be wise for your mouth to stay shut, pure-blood. If you’re stupid enough to speak again-”

“Enough,” Galan interrupted the king, to mine and Mirin’s surprise. Mirin sputtered on the words he’d been about to speak, and that glare swung to Galan’s face, now hidden from me. “I’ve said nothing about the pure-bloods you have taken, which directly goes against our agreement, King of Men. I could venture as far to say you have broken it, but I will not push that, if you do not pursue Claudia.”

“What are you doing here, Hound?” Mirin snarled at Galan, all signs of the composed king gone. His feathers had been ruffled, and he did not appreciate it. “Don’t you have a master to serve?”

“Not anymore.” My confusion grew by each second, and I feared I’d soon actually lose my mind. My pride was still stung from being silenced, and I felt the deep stirrings of the rage I didn’t want to prod at. “And your commanders interceded us on our way home.”

Mirin’s golden brow lifted in obvious disbelief. “Another break in the rules if they’d known your name, but you chose to present as a Hound. Why would that be, if you are no longer in the service of Death?”

“I’d assumed they weren’t stupid enough to try a Hound.” Galan didn’t need to say the rest. I felt truly awkward, lingering in the doorway. “I might even argue the Hounds count in our deal,” he said casually, fiddling with a candelabra. He pushed the melting candle back, recentering it before returning his attention to the fuming king.

“They are not-” Mirin cut himself off before he continued the long-winded shout he’d started. “They are not of your descent,” he spat in a lower voice, transferring all of that rage into a poisonous tone.

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“Debatable, but I’m not here to argue or negotiate terms with you.” Mirin’s face turned a light shade of red at Galan’s words, but he seemed to settle down. It was clear where Lothaire and Larelis had inherited their tempers.

The king let out a long sigh of frustration. “Idiots,” he muttered. “They knew you were the only one I didn’t want,” he said, chuckling humorlessly. “Nevertheless, you are here, and free of your contract.” His gaze flicked over me briefly while he spoke, but I’d almost tuned out from their conversation. They spoke like I wasn’t there, and truly I felt like I wasn’t. It was hard to keep up with a conversation I had no understanding of.

“Well,” Galan gave his own sigh. “You’ve always been one to somehow take advantage of inopportune moments, but I believe it can wait this time. It seems you and I will have a very long time to discuss whatever is on your mind, King of Men.”

Mirin began to rise from his seat, its wooden legs making small squeaks on the polished stone. “What’s a few days compared to eternity, my friend?” He plastered a smile across his face, his beard moving along with his mouth.

“Nothing is eternal, you know that.” The king only waved his hand in response to Galan, as if he could shoo those words from the air. “You cannot rely on my patience this time, Mirin.” My pulse skipped at the lack of the king’s title. Mirin bristled, pausing where he’d rounded the corner of his desk. “I’m in no mood for it.”

“I see,” Mirin said, surprisingly skipping over the ill-use of his name. Maybe it wasn’t as necessary as I’d assumed, but I wasn’t foolish enough to test it myself. “The hour grows late, and given you are both my guests, I cannot have one of you burning to death come sunrise. I’ll have her escorted somewhere she can rest safely.” Mirin was already moving to leave the room, halfway between Galan and I.

“I will be housed with her, or not at all, King Mirin.” Galan said it with such confidence it made the other man pause in his tracks. I watched on in horrid fascination, like watching the beginnings of a fight. The air was taut with the tension between them, on the verge of shattering into something violent.

“I’m surprised your kind takes any interest in vampires, Galan.” The king gave me a sideways glance, suggestive and leering. “I don’t fully believe you do care, unless you’re sticking it in this one. Then I might believe you.”

Sticking it in? Oh.

I looked away from the both of them, embarrassment clinging to me like another layer of clothes. We weren’t, but my thoughts had gone there, and I was sure Galan did not see me that way. I stared at the golden candelabras, counting their many arms to distract myself, keeping my thoughts guarded from appearing on my face.

“It doesn’t pertain to you if I am, much like I don’t ask after your wife and mistress,” Galan replied, brushing past the king to come back to my side. I was trying not to gape at their conversation, or how bravely Galan spoke against the king.

Mirin’s jaw clenched in answer, but instead of speaking, he released the foul words he’d likely been brewing into a sigh. They were both playing a game with each other, I realized, and Galan was winning. Much as Mirin attempted to pry and pick at Galan’s soft spots, Galan was jaded and had an answer to everything.

“I’ve forgotten how it is to speak with you,” Mirin joked. “You’re not an easy man to like or hate.”

“The last time we spoke, King of Men, you were arguing whether or not I am a man.” At Galan’s words, Mirin exploded into another fit of laughter, his previous anger forgotten in a flash. It was a struggle to keep up with the king’s moods, especially when I could not feel them as I’d been learning to do. Somehow, the king’s feelings were shielded from me, unlike his sons.

“You’ve brought entertainment to an otherwise bored, old man,” Mirin said between laughs. I didn’t miss the clench of Galan’s hands, as if something had irritated him. “Careful, Galan, I might want to keep you around.”

“As much as I would enjoy that,” Galan said whilst tucking an arm around my waist in another public display of possession. “I’m sure you know I have pressing matters waiting for me elsewhere.”

“You speak in riddles when you haven’t before.” Mirin took a step closer, now standing mere feet away from us. My existence was a speck compared to these massive men, and their massive egos. I doubted a woman had ever graced this room, based upon the decor, and I had a feeling I knew why. Even if I’d been human, I wouldn’t doubt Mirin would look down on me with the same disguised hatred. “Is it that you’re hiding something from your little vampire?”

“You’ve misread me once more, Mirin.” I felt the rumbles of Galan’s voice, pressed against his side. “I’m not the fool you try to play me as,” he said. “I know when unwelcome ears listen to my voice.”

“Do you?” Mirin’s face pulled into another smile, one that chilled me to look at. He didn’t deny it, though. “Enough of our banter, though I’ve enjoyed it. I’m sure your journey was long.” Implying to get out of my sight.

“It was, courtesy of your men.” Galan wasn’t backing down, not just yet.

“They will be dealt with accordingly,” Mirin said through bared teeth, still forcing a smile. I was grateful his attention hadn’t come back to me- I didn’t want to feel that sort of coldness again. “Unless you ask for retribution this instant?”

Finally, Galan seemed to relent. Maybe it was the earlier threat of the soon to rise sun, or possibly he was tired. “What shall it be, then? Will we be housed together, or shall we be on our way?”

“It will not be comfortable for you, but have it your way. I’ll have some guards escort you to the Underneath.” Mirin took another step, like he was going to push his way through us, but Galan moved out of his way.

I was moved back into the hallway where I watched Mirin turn his back to us, murmuring with one of the men posted closest to the door. The man was silent, only nodding to his king’s words. “We will continue this tomorrow,” Mirin called over his shoulder, already walking down the hallway.

“Of course,” Galan muttered his reply, and for the first time, I felt the stirrings of anger growing in the Hound. Some of the guards departed with their king, trailing behind him like shadows, eventually disappearing into another hallway I could no longer see.

The remainders peeled themselves from the wall, forming two lines of three in front of us. When they started marching down, Galan made us follow.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The Underneath, as Mirin named it, turned out to be directly under Marie’s Revenge. The entrance to the Underneath was anything but obvious. It’d been hidden behind one of those many, many closed doors the castle held.

It’d been a steep stairwell down into an abyss-like darkness, but Galan’s arm kept me firmly in check. I’d never been fond of the dark, and ironically, it still bothered me. I could see through it better now as a vampyr, but it still unsettled me.

It was almost like this had been built along with the castle- the same structure yet mottled and dull in color, compared to Marienne’s bright and shining keep. The ceilings were high and arched, the rooms wide and open. Unlit lanterns hung from chains high upon the walls, as if untouched in generations. I’d believe it, if it weren’t for the presence I felt.

We weren’t alone in the Underneath, but whatever was down here did not make itself seen. Our footsteps echoed across the walls, ricocheting down hallways with open doors.

We followed the guards until they paused at the entrance of a single closed door. “Here,” one of them said gruffly, and pushed the wooden door open.

It swung with a creak, slapping against stone with the force the guard had exerted on it.

They didn’t wait for us to enter. They dispersed as soon as we’d arrived at our destination, shuffling feet already moving back towards the stairwell, lit by the open door at the top. Galan remained still as a statue until that door closed, the last of them gone.

“What the fuck?” I hissed at Galan, ripping myself out of his grasp. “You need to tell me what’s going on. Right now.” My anger came like a summer storm, abrupt and violent. I needed answers, otherwise I’d start falling apart at the seams.

“Calm down, Claudia.” He reached for me, but I stepped out of his range. “Now is not the time for this.”

“No, you’re right,” I seethed. “Now isn’t the time. The right time would’ve been days ago, Galan! I don’t understand anything that’s going on, and all I know is we’re in a deep pile of shit.”

He came for me again, but this time I wasn’t fast enough to evade him. Galan’s arms enveloped me, keeping mine at my sides. He pressed me to him gently, combatting the rage I felt. “I know,” he murmured to me softly. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I am, truly. But please, Claudia, do not fight me here.”

Why did he hold me like this? It was intimate, my head cradled to his chest, his pulse in my ear. It was soothing, calling to a piece of me that was still human, still holding onto emotion.

Tears pricked my eyes and I quickly shut my lids, not wanting to bleed on him. I was still fighting the torrent of anger, but sneaking through was despair. “What’s going on?” I asked him, my voice defeated.

“The things I know cannot be said here,” he whispered. “Please,” he begged softly. His lips pressed to my head, and a shudder of tender emotions racked me. I didn’t know how to feel about Galan anymore. He’d been my savior, but he’d also been my demise.

And here, he held me like he knew me. Like he cared for me. Claimed me before other men who likely had no interest.

Those tears of blood broke free, slashing down my cheeks. I began to pull away from him to wipe them away, but Galan stopped me. Through the thick darkness, I could see his gaze on my face, staring at those tears. His eyes filled with an emotion I couldn’t read, a hand coming up to my face to brush one cheek. “Tears,” he whispered, as if in awe of them.

“I’m sorry,” I said, shaking my head and trying to pull away again. This time, he allowed me, but his arms lingered as if I might come back to them.

“Do not apologize for such a thing, Claudia. You are,” he paused, carefully picking his words. “A miracle. Don’t apologize for being so.”

“I don’t understand, Galan.” My hands came to wrap around my biceps, as if holding myself together. I felt small, and weak, and nothing like a vampyr.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he said, voice softer than a breeze. “Have you rested?”

Rested? It hadn’t occurred to me at all. I didn’t think I could.

I shook my head in answer, not trusting my voice. If I spoke, I’d likely break into a new wave of emotions I couldn’t fight back. The Underneath of Marie’s Revenge was likely the last place I should lose my mind.

“Come,” he said, gesturing towards the room we hadn’t yet entered. I followed him inside cautiously, noting everything I could. This room, and probably the rest of the rooms in the Underneath, clearly hadn’t been used in years.

The room was bare except for a single bed and a long, wooden box in the corner. I didn’t want to think about that box, but I knew its implication. It was a mock coffin, plain and unshaped.

Galan must’ve seen my hesitation, and what caused it. “You don’t have to go in that,” he said, his deep voice rumbling across the empty space between us. Galan eased himself onto part of the small bed, leaving a larger gap for me.

I eyed the spot for a long time before I moved. My mind was swimming with the events of today, and the days before. Too much had happened, once again, and I was still far behind.

Hesitant, I lowered into the space next to him. The bed was stiff, much like the one of the Greasy Dog Inn. Slowly, Galan shifted himself to give me more room, his body creating a groove for me to tuck into.

My heart raced and jumped, excited and scared by his closeness. I hadn’t felt this sort of excitement, not even when I had laid in my marital bed with William. Something about Galan was different, and so much more than William could’ve ever been.

“Close your eyes,” Galan whispered into my ear.

“I can’t rest, Galan.” My eyes were still wide open, but I had no belief a vampyr could sleep.

“You can,” he murmured, a hand brushing the hair from my face. “Close your eyes, Claudia,” he repeated, soft as before.

I did as he said, but my mind was too full, images flashing against the backs of my eyes. I saw Ferlan’s death once more, the brutal side of Galan that had slaughtered dozens for me. My mind was cruel, reminding me of everything that had happened since I woke up in Ascelin’s forest.

“Why do you hold me so?” I whispered, voicing a daunting question that had bugged me since Lothaire’s hateful comments. “Why did you claim me?”

“I’m here to protect you, Claudia.” His arm moved over my middle, his hand hanging loosely over my stomach. “No matter what form of protection it must be. Sleep,” he urged me.

Silence blanketed us, and I fought with my mind for a long time after that. I thought about Reddon and their favored. My mama, and the child I’d lost, and what mama would have to say about that.

Eventually, I began to feel tired. It wrapped me around me, easing into my body and mind. For the first time since I’d been changed, I slept, held comfortably in Galan’s embrace.