Just A Taste | BOOK 1 The Night Lords Series

32. Trust

I'd woken up from my nightmare without screaming for once. The night I had it took me by surprise. It's been a while since I've dreamed of my brother being killed like that.

Gruesome. Brutally. Alone.

When Eve asked me what I dreamt about again, I shrugged and gave him the same answer I've been giving him for the past few weeks. "Nothing."

Usually, I'd forget about the dream. Move on, you know, because what good would it do for me to mourn or worry over a nightmare? It's just, it's hard to do that when that nightmare repeats itself almost every night.

"Lift the arms and drop. Pivot on your right heel, sweep the left leg back. Good. Keep the arms up, head straight."

I follow her instructions, moving when she tells me to move, bending, arching, dancing to the unremitting tempo Beatrice's metronome beat out. Should I find it funny that it's only been a matter of weeks since I used to think taking these 'pet lessons' was the most ridiculous thing ever? Now, I saw it as a means of survival. Strange how a new mindset could give you a fresh set of eyes. I guess when you've been told you've been lied to all your life, feeling this cold might be a basic side effect. The leering gazes of the guards, Eve's constant hovering, and Beatrice's grueling commands, none of it could bother me as much as the fact that my parents sacrificed my life to the vampires before I was even born.

For the first time in my life, my idea of surviving consisted more of just running and hiding. No, for once, I wanted to face them. How I would do it? Well, it's a working progress.

"Alright, your lessons are done for today." Beatrice snaps her little stick against her hand before she turns to stop the metronome. I come out of my current position and straighten to stand with my head bowed. Beatrice, pleased by my submissive stance, harrumphs as she stalks out. Eve hops down from his perch by the window.

"Another smooth lesson. You've been doing very well, Miss Grace." I don't miss the hint of curiosity in his tone, a prodding if you will. He was suspicious of me. I look up at him blankly. Eve and I stare at one another before his small shoulders shrug and he teleports behind me to open the door. "Off to the kitchen, then? I'm sure you're hungry."

I bow my head, stepping forward and lifting my limp leash for him to hold. Eve eyes it briefly before turning around to begin leading the way, ignoring my leash. I drop it and follow. With the usual guards flanking me from behind, I was once again grateful for my new outfit. Unlike my previous 'pet uniform,' Cassius, or maybe it was Eve, had given me a red gown that fell to my ankles. The light material swayed and swished as I moved and, fortunately, covered most of my body. Besides the exposure of my neck and shoulders, the dress was a modest upgrade. My new collar, a burgundy leather strap, was my only accessory along with the black leash that Eve clipped onto the silver hoop at its center every morning. I suppose it was more of a requirement than anything. He stopped using it to tug me along after three days of my sudden obedience.

I suspect he thinks it's all because of what Cassius did to me that day.

Speaking of Cassius, he's been rather distant as well. I'd see him pop in to check on me from time to time. During my lessons, he'd stand by the wall to watch me with cold eyes. I did my best to ignore him but the memory of him beheading that one slave who'd tortured me against his will would always flash across my mind. So, on occasion, I'd glare back.

He never did anything. No reaction besides a quirk of the brow or a small smirk. He even stopped sleeping in his own room because of me. As his pet, I was required to sleep in his bed and, to be honest, I'd feared the night I'd healed from all my whip lashings. I assumed the worst, thinking that once I'd healed, he'd take advantage and try to rape me. But, that was not the deal. Instead, Cassius stopped coming to bed altogether. I don't know where he went. Perhaps a different bedroom, maybe he just stayed up to work. Whatever the reason, I was glad for it. I despised his guts.