Chapter 3 Palace of Thorns

Darian led me through a labyrinth of obsidian corridors, each more ornate than the last. The walls were inlaid with what looked like veins of silver, pulsing faintly with the same blue luminescence as the chandeliers. Despite my exhaustion, I couldn't help but marvel at the otherworldly beauty of this hidden realm.

"How long has this place been here?" I asked, trying to break the suffocating silence between us.

"Longer than your university has stood," Darian replied without looking back. "Longer than your city has had a name."

We passed several heavy doors carved with intricate symbols. Behind one, I heard what sounded like weeping; behind another, laughter that raised the hair on my arms.

"The Night Court has diminished," Darian said, seeming to sense my questions. "Once, we ruled territories that stretched across continents. Now we are reduced to these hidden chambers, these shadows of our former glory."

"Because of humans?"

His laugh was sharp and bitter. "Humans were merely the instrument. Our downfall came from within." He stopped before a set of double doors that towered at least twelve feet high. "These will be your quarters."

The doors swung open at his touch, revealing a spacious chamber that seemed to blend medieval luxury with elements I couldn't quite place—perhaps because they weren't of this world at all. A massive four-poster bed dominated one wall, draped in deep blue velvet. The floor was polished black stone, covered in places with rugs woven in patterns that seemed to shift when I wasn't looking directly at them.

"This is... beautiful," I admitted, stepping inside.

"It was designed for human comfort," Darian said. "We occasionally had willing guests in the old days."

I turned to face him, crossing my arms. "Look, I need some answers. Real ones. What exactly is this 'contract' between us? How do I break it?"

Something flickered across his face—was that amusement? "So eager to be rid of me already?"

"Can you blame me? I didn't ask for any of this."

"Neither did I," he countered, his momentary humor vanishing. "The binding contract was created millennia ago, when our kinds still walked openly together. It was meant to be a pact of mutual benefit—protection and power for the human, sustenance and daylight agency for the blood-born."

"Sustenance?" I echoed, a chill running down my spine.

Darian's eyes flashed. "Did you think the tales of vampires needing blood were mere fiction? We are predators, Elira Hamilton. Never forget that."

I swallowed hard. "So you... need my blood?"

"The contract creates a bond. Your blood becomes uniquely nourishing to me, and in return, my strength serves you." His lip curled slightly. "A perfectly balanced arrangement, according to the ancients."

"But you hate it," I observed.

"I hate being enslaved," he corrected sharply. "I hate that a few drops of human blood can bend me to another's will. Would you not feel the same?"

Before I could answer, a knock came at the door. Darian tensed, placing himself between me and the entrance.

"Enter," he called.

The door opened to reveal Mira, carrying what appeared to be folded clothing. Her eyes darted between us, sensing the tension.

"I thought the Lady Elira might appreciate fresh attire," she said, placing the bundle on a nearby chair. "And Elder Thorne requests your presence in the Great Hall, my prince. The Council is assembling."

Darian's jaw tightened. "So soon?"

"News of your awakening—and the new contract holder—has spread quickly," Mira explained. She turned to me with a small smile. "They're quite curious about you."

"They can remain curious until morning," Darian replied dismissively. "Elira needs rest."

I bristled at being spoken for. "Actually, I'd like to go. If I'm going to understand what's happening, I should probably meet this Council."

Mira looked surprised but pleased. "I can help you prepare, if you wish."

Darian studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he nodded curtly. "Very well. Mira will attend you. I'll return in one hour."

After he left, Mira moved about the room with efficient grace, lighting more of the strange blue lamps and pulling out various items from cabinets I hadn't even noticed.

"He's not usually so... intense," she said as she laid out what appeared to be a dress of midnight blue. "The awakening is always difficult, and to find himself bound again after so long..." She shook her head.

"You know him well?" I asked, curious about their relationship.

"I've served the Nightblood line for three centuries," she replied. "I was there when he was sealed away. He was different then—harder in some ways, but not as bitter."

As she helped me change into the dress—which fit surprisingly well—I gathered my courage to ask more questions.

"What happened? Why was he 'sealed away'?"

Mira's hands stilled momentarily as she fastened the intricate clasps at the back of the dress. "That is a story only Darian should tell. But I will say this—he made a great sacrifice for our people. One that cost him everything."

Before I could press further, another knock came at the door. This time, it was Ashryn who entered without waiting for permission. He paused in the doorway, his silver eyes widening slightly at the sight of me.

"My, my," he said, a slow smile spreading across his face. "The little human cleans up rather nicely, doesn't she?"

"Lord Ashryn," Mira acknowledged with a stiff bow. "The prince requested that Lady Elira not be disturbed."

"And yet here I am," he replied, stepping into the room. "I thought I might offer our guest a more... friendly escort to the Council meeting."

There was something about his smile that made my skin crawl, despite his undeniable beauty. Where Darian's features were sharp and severe, Ashryn's were softer, more classically handsome. But his eyes held a calculation that Darian's lacked.

"I appreciate the offer," I said carefully, "but Darian—Prince Darian—is returning for me."

Ashryn moved closer, his movement so fluid it was almost hypnotic. "My brother has been asleep for a very long time, Lady Elira. The world has changed. The court has changed." He reached out to touch a strand of my hair. "Perhaps you'd benefit from a guide who's remained... current."

I stepped back, bumping into Mira who stood firmly behind me. "I think I'll manage."

His eyes narrowed fractionally, though his smile remained fixed. "I admire your loyalty, misplaced though it may be." He turned his attention to Mira. "Leave us. I wish to speak with Lady Elira alone."

"I serve the prince," Mira replied, her voice steady but with an undercurrent of steel. "I take orders only from him."

Something dangerous flashed across Ashryn's face, but before he could respond, the temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees. Darian stood in the doorway, his presence commanding even in silence.

"Brother," he said, the word like ice. "I don't recall inviting you to my private quarters."

Ashryn's posture relaxed, though the tension between them remained palpable. "I was merely introducing myself properly to our new... guest of honor."

"Consider it done," Darian replied coldly. "Now leave."

For a moment, I thought Ashryn might refuse. The two brothers stared at each other, an entire conversation happening in that silent exchange. Finally, Ashryn inclined his head in a gesture too shallow to be respectful.

"We'll continue our chat later," he said to me, his silver eyes gleaming. "You're truly fascinating, Elira Hamilton." As he passed Darian, he added in a lower voice, "The Council is waiting, brother. Don't keep our elders waiting too long—they've grown accustomed to prompter attention in your absence."

After he left, Darian's gaze swept over me, taking in the formal dress and the way Mira had arranged my hair.

"You look..." he began, then seemed to reconsider his words. "Appropriate. The Council appreciates formality."

"Is that a compliment?" I asked, surprising myself with my boldness.

A ghost of a smile touched his lips before vanishing. "Take it as you will." He offered his arm. "Shall we?"

The journey to the Great Hall took us through the heart of what Darian called the Palace of Thorns. We passed other blood-born, all of whom stopped to stare at me with varying degrees of curiosity and hostility. Some bowed to Darian; others pointedly did not.

"Your return has divided the court," Mira murmured as we walked. "Many believed you would never awaken."

"And many hoped I wouldn't," Darian added grimly.

The Great Hall lived up to its name—a vast chamber with a ceiling so high it disappeared into shadows. Rows of obsidian pillars lined the path to a dais where thirteen ornate chairs were arranged in a semicircle. Twelve were occupied by figures of varying ages, though I suspected their appearances were deceiving. The central chair—larger and more elaborate than the others—sat empty.

As we approached, the murmuring crowd fell silent. Elder Thorne rose from his place among the Council.

"Prince Darian of the Nightblood line," he announced, his voice carrying effortlessly through the hall. "And Elira Hamilton, Contract Holder."

I felt hundreds of eyes upon me, the weight of their scrutiny almost physical. Darian's hand moved to the small of my back, a gesture that seemed both possessive and protective.

"Elders of the Night Court," Darian acknowledged. "I stand before you, awakened by blood and bound by the ancient law."

Elder Thorne gestured to the empty throne. "Your seat awaits you, Prince. As it has these many centuries."

Before Darian could respond, another voice cut through the hall—smooth as silk and just as deadly.

"But does it truly?" Ashryn stepped forward from the shadows beside the dais. "My brother abdicated his responsibilities when he chose the long sleep. The throne has been capably managed in his absence."

A murmur of agreement rose from one section of the crowd. Darian's expression remained impassive, but I could feel the tension radiating from him.

"The laws of succession are clear," Elder Thorne stated firmly. "Prince Darian did not abdicate; he was sealed as part of the Great Sacrifice. His claim remains."

Ashryn's smile was dazzling and dangerous. "Laws can be reinterpreted for changing times, Elder." His gaze shifted to me. "Especially when our supposed prince returns bound to a human girl who knows nothing of our ways."

He approached me slowly, the crowd parting before him. When he reached us, he bowed with exaggerated courtesy.

"You truly have no idea what you've stumbled into, do you?" he asked, his voice pitched for my ears alone. "You hold the leash of a monster, little human, but you're surrounded by others just as dangerous." He straightened, his silver eyes meeting mine. "You're quite interesting, Elira Hamilton. Perhaps you'd find yourself better suited to a different arrangement."

Before I could respond, Darian stepped forward, placing himself between me and his brother. The temperature around us plummeted, frost literally forming on the nearby stone.

"Careful, Ashryn," Darian warned, his voice soft but carrying an unmistakable threat. "You forget yourself."

Ashryn merely smiled wider. "I forget nothing, brother. Including what happened the last time a human held your contract." He turned to address the crowd. "Shall we tell her that story, I wonder? Shall we tell her what becomes of humans who bind themselves to the Nightblood line?"

The tension in the hall was thick enough to cut. I could sense the divisions among the assembled blood-born—those loyal to Darian, those supporting Ashryn, and those simply waiting to see which way the power would shift.

"Enough," Elder Thorne commanded. "This is neither the time nor place for such discussions." He gestured again to the empty throne. "Prince Darian, take your rightful place. The Council acknowledges your return and your binding."

As Darian stepped toward the dais, Ashryn leaned close to me, his breath cold against my ear.

"You truly have no idea what you've awakened," he whispered. "But I do find you fascinating. Perhaps we'll speak again soon... when my brother isn't hovering so protectively."

He straightened with a final smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Welcome to the Palace of Thorns, Elira Hamilton. I hope you're not allergic to poison."