I clamped my mouth shut hard enough to make my teeth clack together. I couldn’t show that Galan meant something to me, at least not any more than I already had.

Between daring glances at Galan and the commanders, I saw his chest rise and fall once. He was still breathing.

Serin was getting on his feet now, color returning to a horridly pale face. Stunned, I briefly forgot about Galan and stared at the commander.

The blood wasn’t gone like magic, but the wound was.

My heart stammered for a moment, loud in my ears as everything I thought I was coming to understand fell apart. He was human- I could still hear his pulse, though now it was racing at an unnatural rate.

It shouldn’t be possible for him to be standing after the blow Galan dealt. He should be dead, yet there he stood, confident, as if he had the right to be alive.

He must’ve felt my gaze; the commander turned to face me. All signs of emotion had left Serin’s face, replaced with an unreadable hardness.

One of the horses brought forward had a large sack thrown over its side. A soldier had stepped around the horse, heading for the sack. An ungloved hand reached in, pulling out twinkling, delicate chains.

My eyebrow raised without another thought. Were those meant to bind me?

I hadn’t tested my strength other than the surprise in the human bar. I knew I had no understanding of anything anymore, but I doubted those dainty chains would hold me if I truly fought them.

“Bring her to me once those chains are on,” Serin commanded to no one in particular. He turned away then, stalking off a distance with Ferlan by his side.

The hands holding me still squeezed tighter, but pain didn’t reach me. My attention was split between the chains being carried towards me and Galan, in that tiny cage.

The spear limited his mobility by a great deal, but there wasn’t much room in there without it hindering him. Were they going to shove me in there with him?

Would I. . . hurt him?

The man approaching me hesitated when he got closer, his eyes flickering to the soldiers at my side, holding me in place. If I wanted to, these soldiers wouldn’t be able to keep me back, the vampyr whispered, blending with my other thoughts.

He stopped a foot away, easily a head taller than me. “Hold your hands out,” he barked the order at me, but I could hear the concealed uncertainty. He was only a soldier, meant to do the dirty work. His life wasn’t a consideration if it meant the job would be done.

My arms were released momentarily, allowing me to offer my hands. The soldier was watching me intently, waiting for any resistance.

He was rough as he pushed my sleeves up to my elbows, exposing my bare skin. The men around me tensed as those chains were lowered onto my wrists, and I almost expected something to happen.

The soldier paused, looking up at the others. Not a word was uttered, but I could taste their panic and confusion.

Something should have happened, apparently.

He was staring at me now, analyzing. When no reaction came, he took the chains off for a moment before placing them on me again, wrapping them tightly over my wrists.

These definitely would not hold me. Nothing kept them in place, and the chain wasn’t long enough to be held by someone else.

He stepped back awkwardly, then looked over his shoulder for a commander’s input.

They were both too far away to see or care about the situation. The soldier cleared his throat, turning back to me. “The cuffs then?” He asked the others, and they must’ve nodded.

The man turned on his heel, headed for something in the fog. I lost sight of him, but he was only gone for a few heartbeats. A smack sounded, and suddenly another horse appeared, splitting the fog in two with its wide chest.

Long arms made of wood stuck out from the massive wagon the horse pulled behind itself. The arms connected to the horse’s halter with clattering, thick chains.

The wagon it pulled had no top, but was fully enclosed on all sides. Wooden wheels scraped on stone as it gained momentum, only to be stopped by the soldier that’d set it in motion.

The horse snorted and came to a stop beside Galan’s cage, blocking my view of him. Once it had come to a full stop, the soldier climbed one of its wheels, leaning over the wagon’s edge to reach in.

He pulled out something made of metal, and it clattered as he threw it to the ground behind him. He remained on the wheel, slowly tugging on a thick chain until it pooled on the ground.

The man deftly dropped back to the ground, squatting to pick the chain back up. He looped it several times before throwing it over his shoulder, and what I now realized was a large cuff dangled at the end of the chain.

He seemed to struggle under the weight of it, wobbling for a moment when he rose to his feet.

When he approached me, I held my hands back out in front of me, ready for this to be over. I feared I might burst into laughter if this continued any longer.

This was all so ridiculous. I was missing pieces of some grand joke, but still I could laugh at it all. I almost questioned if I was going mad, and this was all some dream.

Maybe tomorrow I’d wake up in Reddon, with William in my bed. Knowing all that I did now, I’d stay in that bed with him.

Emotions I thought I had left behind snapped at me. I was lying if I thought for even a moment I’d willingly lay beside that man again. My hate for him had survived death and rebirth.

The man ignored my extended hands, pushing them aside as he got closer to me. He held the cuff now, palming it to open the contraption.

It was a long piece of tarnished metal, splitting in half when it opened. It was large enough to fit both of my hands, which confused me when he pushed them away.

His hand wasn’t gentle when he brushed my hair over my shoulders, uncovering my throat. The metal came next, and hands that weren’t his held my shoulders with harsh fingers.

It was cool against my throat, but I didn’t fight it, for Galan’s sake. If I fought, he would too, and I didn’t want him to get hurt over me again.

He was fiddling with the latch at my throat, and I felt when it clicked shut. It was tight, and restricted my neck from turning or bending. The chain was attached to a metal loop from the front of the cuff, rattling as it dropped to my body, trailing from my throat, between my breasts, and down my belly.

Holding my chain, the soldier took a step back, then another, feeding the chain to put space between us. “Commander, sir!” He called for one of them, tugging at me to walk behind him as he approached them.

Both of the men turned instantly, interrupting the conversation they were deeply invested in. Ferlan gave me a simple glance over and said nothing, but Serin’s expression narrowed into a scowl.

“It was asked of you to bind her in silver. Why was this not done?” Serin asked the man, cold eyes scrunched in anger.

“I tried, sir,” the soldier said, dipping his head low. “The silver didn’t do anything to her.”

Serin’s nostrils flared as he inhaled, sweeping his eyes over to me. After a quick assessment, he nodded once- the only sign of approval he’d give.

Leaving Ferlan, Serin strode our way, snatching the chain from the man’s hands. “Fetch my horse,” he said, sending him away.

Once he’d run off to do the commander’s bidding, Serin turned to look at me. There was a glimmer in his eyes, a hint of pleased content.

He pulled the chain gently, bringing me a step closer to him. Another step, and I might be able to dig my fingers into his chest. “Silver doesn’t work, hm?” He purred, reiterating the information.

I glared at him under my brow, my mind full of a thousand ways I’d like to kill him. I was still practicing my tell no more rule, and kept my voice to myself.

I could feel the chain moving, the vibrations of metal rubbing against metal vibrating around my throat. Serin fed the chain through his hands until it was taught with the distance he allowed me.

The soldier returned, leading a massive horse behind him. It was dark brown in color, almost black, and the ground rumbled beneath its weight. The horse was enormous, larger than any I’d seen thus far.

It looked as though it was bred for war; large muscles bulging as it moved, slow but undoubtedly strong.

“I’d enjoy having you in the same saddle, dear fledgling, but I’m afraid that is safe for neither you nor I.” He was staring at me while he spoke, like he expected an answer from me. When he got nothing in return, he flashed a smile before handing the chain back off.

Ferlan had reappeared, and was the one to take my chain next. He didn’t smile as I’d expected him to, but his cockiness carried in an aura around him.

“Come,” Ferlan said to me, and began pulling me with him into the dense fog. It was like walking through a cloud, leaving a damp feeling on my dress.

Ferlan was more relaxed, and gave me more room to work with than Serin had. I briefly thought about killing him too, but I knew it would do me little good.

There would be no fighting back tonight. We were caught, for now, and I would have to play along.

More had been hidden in the veil of fog, including more soldiers and horses. They waited in silence for their commands, still as stone. It was almost eerie, and I questioned how I hadn’t heard them arrive.

I’d been distracted.

There were enough of them here to consider this a battle, but I was almost certain Galan would’ve won anyways if it weren’t for me. “Do you know how to ride a horse?” Ferlan asked me casually, throwing a glance over his shoulder.

Still, I wouldn’t answer.

The commander snorted, shaking his head. “Silence will not get you far with me. And do not think your charm will work on me as it has for Serin.”

My charm?

I’d said nothing to imply anything to the commander. What did Ferlan think I was?

I heard Galan’s cage rattle; wood smacking against metal, as if Galan had shaken or moved the cage. Ferlan laughed. “Is that why you have a Hound at your side?” He asked, implying more than that. “Another seductress, digging claws where you shouldn’t. Hasn’t anyone warned you of the Hounds?”

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Ferlan appeared younger than Serin, and it showed in his smug mouth. I wanted this night to be over, and for time to hurry up. An awful feeling had settled within me, skeptically doubting I’d live if I met King Mirin.

We stood between two horses, already saddled and waiting for their riders. His hand shot out, fingers digging into my skin as he held my chin, forcing me to look at him. I was close to losing the fight of keeping my hands at my sides and not tearing him apart.

“Answer me, vampire,” he said. “Do you know how to ride a horse?” He pronounced each word slowly, eating at my patience. I clung tightly to any remaining human in me, hoping it’d save me from doing something stupid.

“Yes,” I answered him in the same tone.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” His face was closer now, but he didn’t release me. Trailing fingers explored my cheek, a thumb tracing my jawline.

“Remove your hand,” I heard Galan say, guttural and angry. “Or lose it.”

Surprisingly, Ferlan obeyed, pulling his hand back to his side. “Silence, Hound, or I’ll find another spear.”

“Stay far away, commander,” Galan snarled, and I saw him sit upright, turning his head fully to look at Ferlan. “I’ll kill you if you touch her again.”

“And you’ll do that from within a cage?” Ferlan teased. “Mighty threats from a captured beast.”

“Find out,” Galan said, and then went silent.

Having nothing to say to that, Ferlan turned back to me and gestured at the horse to my right. It was smaller than the other, and looked older. I suppose it was a miracle I was being given a horse and not a cage like Galan’s, so of course they would give me the weakest one they had.

He’d also released my chain, giving me the freedom to move and seat myself. I took advantage of that, never wanting to feel his touch again.

This horse was more than broken in. While my first had been nervous by my presence, this one hadn’t moved an inch as I heaved myself over, fitting my feet into the holds.

Ferlan watched from below with mild interest, and I felt my lip curl in disgust. With a quick glance, I double checked that the skirt of my dress was covering me.

The commander met my eye for a moment before he dipped, picking up the end of the chain before mounting his own horse. Was he going to hold it the entire time?

I felt humiliated enough with the cuff around my throat.

“Pull your hood up,” Ferlan snapped at me, palming the chain while picking up his reins. “And keep up.” He kicked his horse into motion, leaving me little time to get mine to follow before that chain ripped me out of the saddle.

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

We’d rode throughout the rest of the night, pausing only when dawn crept upon the vast horizon. I’d never seen so much exposed land, with barely any trees to fill the landscape.

It was also flat, with many trails. Some built for carriages and wagons, others were worn down paths by foot.

I could also see what I assumed was Lonest.

It stuck out in the distance, taking a large chunk of space in the far-off land. All that I could see was rounded, tall walls made of white stone, protecting its contents from view.

Smaller pillars had been constructed along the wall, evenly spaced. From here, I could see even more, closer to the ground, only reaching halfway up the wall.

A small party of soldiers had accompanied us, mostly stationed around Galan’s cage and the horse that pulled it. I’d watched him from the corner of my eye as much as I could, but Ferlan kept a fast pace.

When sunlight peeked around the walls of Lonest, Serin called for us to stop. There’d been sparse buildings built randomly across the strip between Silbath and Lonest. Conveniently, one wasn’t too far away from where we’d stopped.

Momentarily, I wondered why we would stop during the day. I remembered then that they would need to regain their strength, and they needed to rest.

Ferlan led me towards the building, releasing me to drop to the ground. A long, slanted piece of metal held the remnants of rain, and his horse was quick to find it.

With a not-so-gentle tug, Ferlan insinuated for me to get down from my mount. I landed with more dexterity than I’d planned, and it somewhat stunned me.

The others were dismounting as well, and with a slight turn of my body, I was able to see Galan’s cage being pulled off to the side of the road. Several soldiers were in the process of raising tents composed of sharp wooden steaks and crisp white fabric.

With no trees to break its motion, the wind whipped angrily around us, howling between the boards of the building. Ferlan’s dark overcoat flapped behind him as we moved against the wind, leading me towards the door.

It was already wide open, sagging on its hinges. Layers of dirt caked the entryway, hiding any traces of the wood beneath, if there was any.

The building itself was long since abandoned, and the only remaining purpose of it was for travelers to catch some sleep. It was gutted inside, the last pieces of furniture being a simple table and three chairs, all in random locations throughout the room.

The gaps between wood were wide enough to wiggle my fingers through, though I supposed it was better than nothing. Around me, I heard the rustling of feet crunching on dirt, passing by the building. I wished I could turn and look, but the cuff restricted any motion like that.

When I hesitated at the door, Ferlan was quick to roughly yank me in. Gritting my teeth, I entered, expecting something to happen when I did.

Now having enough length, Ferlan crossed the wide room, attaching my chain to a loop that had been bolted by metal to the wall. This was the only stretch of wall that was made of brick, and I suspected it had once been a fireplace, destroyed a long time ago.

“Nowhere for me to rest?” I found myself asking him when he’d stepped away, headed for the door.

The commander stopped in his tracks, but didn’t turn to face me. His blonde hair was matted in curls at the nape of his neck, likely from sweat. Though he was tall, he seemed young. Perhaps even younger than I.

He almost looked like William from this angle, and it made me hate the commander even more. “We don’t carry coffins for the dead,” he spat. “We accommodate the living.”

Coffins?

Truly, I was hoping I’d be given one of those chairs. Sitting on the ground was fine, however, since my chain wouldn’t reach any of them, and I had no interest in asking for something again.

The idea of resting in a coffin unnerved me, and I didn’t want to dwell on the thought. But in the same notion, I’d realized I hadn’t slept since I’d woken up as a vampyr.

Ferlan seemed overly agitated by the simple comment, having not moved from his spot. The silence between us was only broken by the whistling gusts that made their way through the building.

“You should be thankful your unlawful existence has even been granted this much privilege, vampire.” Ferlan refused to look at me, keeping his back as a shield between me and his face.

I knew when to shut up, and this was exactly one of those moments. I shouldn’t have said anything in the first place, but there was nothing I could do about something already done.

“Say thank you,” he commanded me.

“There is nothing to thank you for.” My voice came out like a whip, snapping against that commander’s ego. I would not thank my captor for anything.

Ferlan straightened immediately, spinning back around to storm back to me. My hand lashed out before he did, but he must’ve expected this, stepping aside with barely enough time. If my blow had landed, I would’ve clawed his face.

Everything spun, my head snapping to the side from a brutal crack against my cheek. His right hand still hung in the air after the slap he’d delivered, and I noticed now the dozens of rings he had on both hands.

In my daze, I was fixated on those rings and the odd color of them. They were all various shades of deep red, stacked on each finger.

I felt something trickle down from beneath my eye. He must’ve split my skin with one of those rings.

He was within my range still, and I imagined I could overwhelm him with my speed if I truly gave it my all. Ferlan’s eyes narrowed on me as if he were reading my thoughts, and he took a step back, then another.

It was a wise choice on his end.

The pain came later, but it truly didn’t hurt badly. I’d suffered worse than a backhanded slap with rings.

Without another word, Ferlan turned and left the building, the rickety door wobbling as it slammed shut behind him. I was left alone from there on, until an hour later four soldiers had barged in with cuffs for my hands.

Shadows moved outside, blocking bits of sunlight and creating outlines of the men that were stationed around the building.

There were three of them, one at the door and two that patrolled around the perimeter. The day passed like this, though they had swapped shifts with other soldiers at some point midday.

It was late afternoon when the sunlight disappeared. Faint light still peeked through in beams, highlighting the dust in the air.

It wasn’t long until I could hear the faint patter of rain against the roofing, telling me that it was only a drizzle for now. The wind had picked up once more, and I huddled against the brick only from the annoyance of the wind frisking my dress.

This was certainly boring.

One of my shadows disappeared, and not from the lack of light. He’d stepped away from the building, allowing what dim light that escaped the clouds to pierce the structure once more.

Someone was shouting, far in the distance. Moments later, the other soldiers stationed outside were running off towards the commotion.

I had enough space to reach the front facing wall, bending to press my eye to a gap. It was completely abandoned outside, though the remnants of them still existed.

Tent flaps were fluttering in the wind, their insides empty. Several pieces of armor littered the road that sat between my building and those tents, but no bodies.

And no horses either.

Far off to the left, and a considerable distance away from the tents, was Galan’s cage and it was. . . empty. My heart leapt in excitement and I scanned the surroundings, looking for him.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t here, and neither was anyone else. Had I been abandoned?

I kept watching, waiting for any signs of movement in the tall grass beyond. And suddenly, there it was.

I saw the tip of a bloodied spear peeking over the grass, coming up what I knew was a small hill. The shouting I’d heard before resumed, getting closer now. I was able to distinguish the words. Get. The. Fucking. Hound.

It was Serin’s voice I recognized, his voice breaking as though he’d been strangled at one point in this fight. Galan came into view, a startling figure of black against the landscape.

In his hands he held a long spear, soaked from tip to handle in blood. It was the same one that had punctured his chest and through that cage. My mouth dried at the thought of Galan slowly moving it through him in order to escape.

I watched on in mute excited horror as soldiers crested the same hill he had, their armor sparkling as it caught stray beams of light. Looking at him closer, Galan was dragging something behind him. A body, I thought, then cleared that idea when it weakly smacked at Galan’s hold on him.

They were beaten beyond recognition, his skin purpled and bleeding. Something twisted in my stomach, not out of disgust or horror, but satisfaction. I knew that blonde hair. Ferlan.

Galan dropped him in the middle of the road, and he must’ve completely broken the commander, for he didn’t move again other than his ragged breaths.

There were only three soldiers that had come over the hill, and I suspected that was all that remained of them. They were weakened, if I were to judge based on their slow gaits and huddled statures, but still they came for him with raised weapons and all of their remaining might.

It seemed Galan was playing with them, deflecting each blow that came his way. I watched his feet, and how they slid in the dirt, shifting his weight this way and that as he danced around their advances.

Galan’s arm shot out moments later, surprising us all. He’d speared one of them through the middle, somehow breaking through the metal plate of armor. Before they could intervene, Galan pushed, heaving the man upwards into the sky, sliding him down that spear.

This, I thought, was why they feared the Hound.

The sword fell from the soldier's hands as he died, and Galan caught it, releasing the spear and allowing the body’s weight to send it crashing to the ground.

Galan was quick to advance on them while they were still shocked, driving the tip of his new sword through a small gap in metal, right in the second man’s armpit. It pierced straight through, and Galan withdrew immediately, releasing a gush of blood in his wake.

Bloodied, Galan’s sword flashed as he spun, clashing with an unsullied sword of the other man. The stabbed man stood where he was, as if he was unable to move.

Red poured from his wound and at last he stumbled, dropping his weapon as he reached to touch the area.

Galan had tucked an arm behind his back, handling his sword with one hand. His footwork was faster than I could keep track of, circling around the man.

Even with no experience, I saw exactly when the soldier slipped up. He’d shifted his weight to the wrong side, putting him directly in the path of Galan’s attack.

Steel sliced through his side, an exposed area that was likely intended to help their mobility. However, it was the downfall of this man.

Still, there was no sign of Serin, and I wondered when he would arrive, or if he was dead. Hopefully the latter.

I’d missed his death, but the last soldier had fallen as well, leaving Galan and the felled Ferlan.

My eyes were solely on him as Galan turned, giving me a view of his face. His hood had been pushed back in the wind, revealing his dark hair. The garter had been pulled back over his face, obscuring the lower half.

He stalked toward where Ferlan laid, his blade low, pointed toward the ground. “Please,” I heard Ferlan say, weak and begging.

Galan wasted no time. Within a heartbeat of looming over the commander, Galan had lifted and driven his sword down, permanently ending his life.