Sold as the Alpha King’s Breeder

Chapter 600

Chapter 100 : Blood of the White Queen

*Lena*

The first time I ventured out of my windowless prison in the Vampire King's castle was anticlimactic. I didn't get very far before running into a group of the gray, sunken-eyed guards that Penny had warmed me to stay away from. They hissed at me, their red eyes shining in the dim light of a long, curving corridor I'd been exploring.

I'd retreated back to my room, shaken.

King Nikolas hadn't called on me in what felt like days. Food was delivered to my room in three-hour increments, and it was always plentiful and delicious. I ate as much as I possibly could, trying to strengthen my body and my powers for the fight I would soon be up against.

On the third day after meeting the king and healing his feeder, I went to the library. It was dank and dim like the rest of the castle, which was completely windowless to the outside world. But the library was situated in what looked like a tower, a wide spiral staircase made of stone stretching to the highest point of the castle. But even stranger was the way the staircase descended into incredibly dark depths, likely built through whatever mountain the place was built on top of. Cold air funneled up from the black pit, and I peeked over the railing of the staircase as I gazed down, holding a candle over the darkness.

“Hello?" I said into the pit, and my voice echoed… and echoed, and echoed.

Gooseflesh rippled over my arms, and not from the cold, as I retreated to the stacks of books that lined the curved walls. Thousands of books lined the shelves, all of them coated in cobwebs and dust. I climbed the staircase, running my fingers over the spines of the books as I ascended the stone steps. I noticed the books gradually became newer as I walked up, and up, their spines freshly repaired and dust-free.

I almost ran into the man standing on the steps, who had a feather duster in one hand and a candle in the other. I covered my mouth with one hand and gripped the railing with the other, stifling a scream as he held the candle up between us to get a better look at my face.

He was an older gentleman with kind, round eyes. But he was a vampire, of course. A lower vampire, like the people in Brune, but he was old… much older than any vampire I'd seen before. They all seemed to just stop aging as young adults, dripping eternal youth.

This man was an elder.

“What are you doing in here, girl?" he hissed, and I felt the color drain from my face as I walked backward down the stairs. “No need to be frightened of me," he grumbled, turning back to the bookshelf with the duster in hand.

“I was just looking–"

“For what? A book about princesses? A fairy tale? You've come to the wrong library for that, I'm afraid."

“Is there more than one?" I squeaked, adrenaline still pumping through my veins.

The man gave me a sarcastic look, then rolled his eyes back to the shelves. “No. And don't go poking around where you're not supposed to be–"

“I was told I had free access to the library," I stammered, and he met my eye again, one wiry gray brow arched in shock.

“By?"

“By King Nikolas," I replied, a little breathless. “I just wanted something to read. I'm stuck in that room all the time–"

“He's never let feeders in here before–"

“I'm not his feeder," I said quickly, cutting him off. The man looked thoroughly confused, but then the realization struck him like a punch to the chest.

“How are you still alive?"

There it was–someone who knew the truth, someone who, by the look on his face, was just as shocked as the king had been when I'd healed the feeder. But something different twinkled in the old man's eyes, something like… rebellion.

I shrugged in response to his question, looking into the flames of the candle I was holding for a moment.

“And just what kind of book are you looking for?" he asked, the flame of his own candle dancing in his eyes.

He was sizing me up, and I was doing the same. I couldn't outwardly tell him I was a spy, and an assassin, but maybe after a few visits to the library I would have a chance to do just that.

“Something about this place. It's history, geography–"

“Geography?"

“Actually, geology would be ideal."

“You want to read a book about rocks?"

“I want to read something that will put me into a stupor while I wait for the king to continue his trials on me," I said bluntly, shrugging innocently.

He huffed a breath, tilting his head toward the black pit below us. “Down there."

I followed him down, down, down. The air became chilled and my breath puffed with moisture as we descended deep into the well of darkness. The books down here were damp, some totally covered in mold. I grimaced as he stopped, his fingers moving across several spines before he pulled out a massive, heavy book that was bound in what looked like leather.

“It's very old, so be careful," he said as he thrust it into my chest.

It smelled like decay, like mildew and dust. I gave him a short smile, and he began to walk past me back up the stairs.

“What's at the bottom of this pit?" I asked, noticing the stairs continued to spiral downward out of sight.

“They say that's where the bones of the other High Vampires lay," he said in all seriousness, and a chill ran up my spine that had nothing to do with air. “You'd be smart not to let anyone know you have that book."

I nodded, following close behind him as we walked back up the stairs to the main landing that led back into the castle.

I paused at the doorway, tucking the book in the crook of my arm and covering it with the rich navy blue wool cloak I was wearing over a pale gray dress made of homespun. “Thank you," I said, meaning it. “What is your name?"

“I don't remember," he said, then turned away, walking back up the stairs.

***

It had thousands of pages.

I'd been bent over books for years and still couldn't make sense of what I was looking at as I sat in the bathroom, my back against the door in case anyone tried to come in.

It was in a different language, which was entirely unhelpful. There were no pictures, and the pages were so old and frail that they ripped and disintegrated against my touch.

“Damnit," I hissed, flipping back to the beginning. I'd opened it in the middle for whatever reason, and had skipped the front title page, which was nothing more than blotted ink spots arranged in a half-moon shape. The ink looked… fresh.

I flipped the page over, noting the paper was much newer than the pages following it, but the spine had never been repaired, and I saw no signs of the title page being sewn in after the fact.

I ran my fingers over the ink spots and felt a jolt of electricity shoot up my arm as the paper sliced through my thumb.

“Ouch!" I growled, bringing my thumb to my mouth to suck the drop of blood away, but then stopped.
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