Marius stood in front of her cell, gripping the bars. Much like he had on the night of the ball, he wore a black tunic and trousers. Unlike the last time she’d seen him, he looked well-rested. His brown hair was swept across his brow, and there was no sign of a cough in his voice. He seemed healthy.
Vivienne couldn’t relate.
Not only was health a distant memory but so were hygienic practices. She was covered in dirt, and she hadn’t seen a bar of soap since before the ball. Her hair was matted, and she was certain her odor was less than pleasant.
She supposed it didn’t matter since she’d be dead soon enough.
Was Marius here to carry out her death sentence? It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. He was the prince of the realm, after all. Thatthought hurt her more than it should, though, and pain lanced through her chest.
Suddenly remembering her manners, Vivienne fell into a deep bow. Her forehead touched the frosty ground, and she mumbled, “Your Highness.”
Keys jingled, but she didn’t dare look up. Iron hinges creaked, and then, a hand touched her chin. His touch was gentle. Why was he being gentle if he was here to kill her?
Her brows furrowed as he lifted her chin. She looked up, eyes widening as she took in the prince’s crouching form. A violet orb hung suspended in a lantern dangling from his fingertips. His brown gaze was sorrowful, and she could’ve sworn silver lined the bottom of his eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Viv.” The prince reached out as though to touch the collar around her neck, but he stopped, his fingers curling into a fist.
He drew in a long, shuddering breath and slammed his hand into the stone wall. Cursing, he shook out his hand as his nostrils flared.
“I should’ve fought harder to get you out sooner,” he said. “I was sick, but that doesn’t excuse anything. I failed you.”
He was wrong. She was the one who had fallen short of expectations. But she didn’t have the energy to argue with him. It took everything she had to stay with her back pressed against the wall, fighting the urge to sink her fangs into his neck.
“Why…” Her voice rasped after so many days of disuse, and she tried again. “Why are you here?”
If the time for her death had come, she would prefer if they didn’t drag it out.
Marius’s lips slanted up for the first time since he’d entered her cell. What did he have to smile about? The dungeon was a place of death.
“I came to ask if you wanted to stop the First with me. For real, this time.”
She stared at the prince for a long moment, wondering if her ears were malfunctioning. After all, hunting the First was why she was in this horrible position.
He didn’t seem to be joking, though.
Silence filled the cell as he stared at her, waiting.
She licked her lips, her fingers digging into the cold stone as she avoided looking at the prince’s neck. “I’m not sure I understand.”
Marius dipped his head. “There have been some developments while you’ve been... here.”
He seemed reluctant to put a label on this place of destruction and death, but she had no such problems.
“In prison,” she said flatly.
“Yes. In prison.” He shifted uncomfortably, raking a hand through his hair. “The long story short is that the First isn’t an ordinary vampire.”
“I gathered as much when we couldn’t kill it,” she said as visions of the feral vampire’s grey skin and black blood flashed through her mind. “What did you find out?”
Still crouched in front of her, the prince launched into an outlandish story about a curse. All she could do was stare at him. This was a turn she never expected her day to take.
He ended with, “That’s why I’m going. I’m not a vampire, so I can kill the First.”
Vivienne was all too aware of the prince’s mortality. It was all she could think about right now. The pulse beating in his neck. His deep scent of maple and amber. The very male spark in his eyes that had been present when she straddled him in the snow.
Stop!she internally screamed.
That wasn’t a healthy train of thought. The hunger was making it more difficult to remember her boundaries than before. Not that it had been particularly easy at any point in time.