Dragged Into Darkness

ALEXANDER

Her fear, confusion, and pain were palpable. They ripped through her, echoing in the crack of her bone and the rich scent of her blood seeping into the earth. Everything had happened in a blink.

Just moments ago, she was nestled in my arms, pledging her life to me. Now, she was sprawled on the forest floor, her lifeblood seeping out.

I was unable to tear my gaze away from her. They had her pinned down, shattered. I was helpless, unable to reach her.

I fought like a wild beast, ripping into every vampire that dared to restrain me, paying no heed to the sharp cuts their blades inflicted. I had to get to her.

I could sense her life force ebbing away. Had the arrow pierced her heart? I couldn’t bear the thought of losing her.

I wouldn’t. She was mine to protect, and I wouldn’t fail. I couldn’t.

Vampires swarmed around me. I could feel their cold hands on me, their fangs sinking into my skin, their blades slicing into my flesh. But all I could see was her.

I heard myself bellowing, barely registering the snapping bones and tearing flesh as I tore through my adversaries. Blood splattered across my face, on my chest, fueling my rage into a frenzy.

Aya’s crimson eyes were fading to her deep, beautiful brown. I held her gaze, willing her to focus on me. Her pain rolled off her in waves, fear creeping in.

But it wasn’t fear for herself. She was afraid for me.

I couldn’t imagine how I must appear to her. The turned vampires weren’t holding back. I was drenched in blood, a mix of my own and theirs.

But my pain was insignificant. A large vampire leapt from the trees above and crashed down on me, forcing me to my knees.

I could feel my muscles straining, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Stop, or she will die,” a voice hissed.

I halted abruptly, a blade swinging dangerously close to my throat. I was paralyzed, my gaze locked on her.

The vampire standing over her was looking at the one holding the blade at my throat. He could end her life in an instant. It would be over too soon.

No. That couldn’t happen. Not Aya.

She was perfect, and she deserved the world. Not to die under the boot of a Shahalia henchman. Not because of me.

She couldn’t suffer because of me. Anger surged through me. I could feel her pain, her desperate reach for me. Her confusion was mounting.

I let my powers drift toward her, blocking out everything else. I couldn’t bear her pain. I had to soothe her—comfort her in the only way I could.

I felt her responding, leaning into my powers. Her pain faded. She stopped struggling. She lay as if in a peaceful slumber.

I finally tore my gaze away from her. I was kneeling, my clothes soaked in mud and blood. Vampires lay dead or languid around me.

Slowly, I lifted my head. A pair of dark eyes met mine.

“Hello, Prince Alexander,” the vampire with the sword at my throat smirked.

“It’s just Alexander,” I corrected him.

His smirk widened. “Quite so,” he agreed.

I jerked my chin toward her. “You won’t touch another hair on her head; you won’t hurt her.”

He barely glanced at her. “Why not?”

“Because otherwise, I won’t come easily.”

“What makes you think we want to capture you?”

“You haven’t killed me yet,” I retorted dryly.

He chuckled. “Fine. But there’s no need to keep her alive; I have you under control.”

“No,” I met his gaze. “You don’t.”

Before he could react, I wrenched myself free from his men’s grasp and snatched the sword from his hands. His fear barely had time to register before I grabbed his throat and tore his head clean off his body.

Blood spurted in a stunning fountain as his body crumpled to its knees and then into the mud.

It was mere seconds later that all the other vampires lunged at me. Blades shoved between my ribs, fangs tearing at my skin.

Pain radiated through my body, but I could only see her. My muscles strained against the blades lodged in my chest. Blood bubbled up my throat.

I could feel my strength draining, the weight of the vampires on top of me, pinning me to the ground. As they hoisted my limp body, I stared at the arrow in her chest.

It wasn’t through her heart; it must have missed by only a few centimeters. Relief washed over me. Her collarbone seemed shattered, and she’d lost a lot of blood.

But she’d heal. I held onto the hope that she’d recover enough to move before dawn. They forced my battered body forward, my knees practically useless now.

In the chaos, they left her behind, focusing all their energy on controlling me. I continued to resist until we were off the mountain, and I could no longer sense her presence.

The Shahalia goons were exceptionally trained. There were fifteen of them, but I never saw them all at once.

Five of them hauled me forward, my arms bound behind me, a blindfold over my eyes. Three others scouted ahead, five behind, and the rest took to the trees, protecting the group.

We were being pursued by an increasing number of other vampires. I could hear them keeping pace and see the flashes of movement through the thin fabric of my blindfold.

A glimmer of hope sparked within me when I heard the first one dart into the road ahead of us. Maybe Aya’s friend was close.

I despised the thought of him anywhere near her, even though she had spent a decade traveling with him, and he was firmly in her friend zone.

It was clear to me that he wanted more. I couldn’t blame him. She was perfect.

But she was mine. And yet, I couldn’t reach her. If he was close, he could save her. He could help.

I clenched my teeth. There was a time when I was too proud to ask for help. Maybe if I hadn’t been so stubborn when I first met Aya, things would have been different.

If I had turned to my friends, to my family, our relationship might have been better. But I was convinced I could handle everything alone.

Too proud to admit when things were going wrong. Aya was hurt because of my pride. That would never happen again.

I would beg anyone for her life. For her happiness. I would even welcome her annoying friend if he could take care of her in my absence.

I found myself on the lookout for him, trying to recognize his scent or that of his friends.

A part of me also wanted him to be following, so he could smell what Aya and I had done. But I quickly squashed that thought.

Aya wasn’t a trophy for me to flaunt. She was my world.

Unless she wanted me to claim her in a crowded room—which I would do in a heartbeat—I would keep our intimate moments private. Even if I wanted to shout it from the rooftops, she was mine.

She would not be abandoned on a mountain if I had any say in it. As the hours passed, we left the Alps, heading north toward Strasbourg.

My wounds were healing quickly. I could tell the guards around me were also healing, though not as fast as I was.

My throat ached for nourishment, the need for blood growing as my body healed. I straightened up, rolling my head around.

I was taller than the guards holding me, their nails digging into my biceps. My wrists strained against the iron bands they’d placed on me.

The sun would rise soon. I could smell the morning.

They’d need to find shelter. I knew the Shahalia family had a home near the German border.

We were probably headed there. We couldn’t be more than a few miles away.

The heat of the morning sun was already palpable. From behind, the clash of Shahalia men and other turned vampires trying to grab me echoed through the night.

I could smell the blood in the air. It only made me thirstier.

A turned vampire’s blood wasn’t satisfying, but after fifty years of drinking cold animal blood with the occasional human, I wasn’t so picky. The guard closest to me, gripping my bicep, didn’t see it coming.

I twisted quickly, breaking free from his hold. He didn’t have time to shout in surprise before I bent my head down and bit into his shoulder.

I had been aiming for his throat, but he’d moved, and my blindfold didn’t help. His rich blood flowed into me as I sucked, tearing a piece of shoulder from his flesh.

His scream echoed in my head. I could feel hands on me, blades sliding against my skin, and the sound of feet running toward me.

The Shahalia goons had messed up big time. They’d allowed me time to recover, and now, I had nothing left to lose.

I broke free from their hold, snapping bones, biting and tearing flesh from anyone who dared to get too close. They swarmed me, Shahalia men and others alike.

Pain pulsed through my body. I could hear my own roars, feel the power coursing through me with every bite, every gulp of their blood.

Their screams were like a symphony to my ears. They had underestimated the strength of a pureblood—especially one who’d been ripped away from the vampire he loved.

Nothing was going to stop me from getting back to her.

I didn’t give a damn if the vampires around me were dead or just injured; another one at my feet meant one less obstacle in my path. I snatched a sword as I navigated through the swarm, slicing through solid bodies with ease.

The Shahalia had been overly confident to think they could capture me without killing me. Their minions would pay the price.

I lost track of time as I fought; my muscles strained, my body ached, and the air was heavy with the scent of spilled blood. My body was drenched in warm, sticky blood. I couldn’t tell if it was mine or theirs. I didn’t give a damn either way.

The sun was peeking over the horizon as I faced my final adversary. Most of the others were either dead, healing slowly, or fleeing from the sun and me. Only one Shahalia guard stood in my way.

She was worn out, her face smeared with blood, her fangs exposed, chest heaving from the effort.

I locked eyes with her crimson ones.

“Move, or I’ll kill you,” my voice was raspy.

She shook her head, aiming her sword at my chest.

I tilted my head to one side, licking the blood that coated my lips.

“Then tell your masters to fetch me themselves next time.”

Her eyes widened for a moment, then she scowled.

“That won’t be difficult. They know your weakness now,” she hissed. “And they have her. You will come back with me. Or they will kill her.”

I saw red. My sword swung, knocking hers out of her hands. My fingers dug into her shoulder—she screamed in agony as I descended my lips onto her throat, tearing it out, then ripping her head clean off.

I didn’t even see where it landed; I was already on the move. I couldn’t sense her, I couldn’t smell her anywhere near me, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t taken her another way, to another location. Messengers would have gone ahead of us, would have informed the Shahalias about her, about my fury to save her.

I cursed. The sun was rising fast; my body was spent, drained. I could barely feel anything, barely smell anything. My entire body was focused on running—on getting back to her.

The path we took was easy to trace, trampled by the vampires who’d followed us, drenched with the blood of the henchmen and my own.

My body screamed in agony as the first rays of sunshine seared my back.

My mind flashed back to just a few weeks ago, when I was standing on my balcony, watching the sun rise. I had been ready to burn that morning. I had been ready to let myself turn to ash just to feel something.

Now, it seemed unthinkable. I didn’t want to burn; I didn’t want to die. Even if being here meant a thousand more years in exile, I’d do it. I’d drink all the cold animal blood if it meant that I could have Aya.

I pushed myself harder, my muscles straining, my body unable to heal while I ran. I could feel my skin blistering, the pain of the torn-up jumper against my searing flesh.

I plunged into the woods of the Alps, the trees providing me some cover from the sun—just enough.

I followed the trail of blood as it grew stronger. I could smell them—the dead bodies left behind. The sunlight lit my path too brightly, and my eyes ached.

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, my wounds bleeding. I searched for her, but I couldn’t sense her.

Before I reached the cabin, I already knew she wasn’t there. I stared at the dried patch of blood against the leaves—the last place I saw her.

She was gone.