The Dove & the Darkness (Ceasefire Series book 5) Read online

  The traces of the child I first glimpsed long ago are still there. They linger in the large, innocent, blue eyes that stare up at me. So blue it was like falling into a cloudless sky. Lips as pink as cherry blossoms had been parted so temptingly, and I bet just as sweet to sample.

  A woman now. Eighteen. Ripe for the taking and ready to learn a man’s touch. To experience everything I have in store for her. Her fresh-faced innocence is like a beacon.

  I’ve never let a pretty face get close to me. Cold, ruthless no one has touched my soul in centuries. My heart is dead. Black and withered, it beats only to a tune of hatred and revenge.

  My thoughts return to her little tits. Bite size. Perfect. Further down, a thatch of dark curls had guarded her womanhood. Hair as black as obsidian had tumbled around her creamy pale shoulder.

  She’s just as elegant as any priestess to grace a temple. There’s warmth that glows from within her that dazzles. I can’t help but be mesmerized. I’ve lived without it for, so long. Denied myself it for so long.

  The oracle the Devil himself possessed. Pretty, precious little Dove. Caged. Her wings clipped so she can no longer fly home.

  Mine to now break.

  To take.

  She’ll pay for the sins of another. Collateral damage to achieve my goal. All while I’ll train her to be ready for her new home and role.

  Do I give a fuck someone else has plucked her for themselves? Maybe a slither. But it won’t be her new Master’s cock she’ll take the first time; it will be mine. I’ll brand her so thoroughly it will be the only thing she remembers whenever another fucks her. The feeling of my hands, mouth, and cock. She’ll forever compare her lovers to me.

  Cassandra is now in a place of hopelessness and pain. At my mercy. Whatever my new pet thinks, she’ll never be found. Hidden in the shadows for centuries, the walls of this realm have always been maintained. Not even the notorious Devil and his whore mate will ever breach my home. No prince charming will come riding in to rescue her. No one would dare.

  Reaching for the ring hanging around my neck, I caress the metal with my fingertips. My wife’s wedding ring. The only thing I have left of her now. A painful reminder that I am the last of my line. That too was snatched from me. Taken by enemies.

  With a predatory confidence, I step into a room at the end of the corridor.

  Weakness here is a downfall. Something I never show.

  The vampire guards look up from their card game around the sparse wooden table. Their cheerful chatter trailing off. Behind them, boxes with tiny glass glowing bottles of bliss lie waiting to be labeled and packed sat on another table. A piece of paradise everyone wants. They pay through the nose just for a sip of our exclusive drug.

  “Is all well, Master Soren?” The closest male asks, a hint of worry in his tone.

  Lucien isn’t unattractive with his square jaw and chiseled looks. His short, red hair smoothed back immaculately. Body long and lean, he lacks the muscles of my other guards. The naive find him charming. They have no clue of the demon that lurks just beneath his facade of sophistication. It’s his azure blue eyes that give him away. Not crimson like the other vampires here. They lacked empathy. Humanity.

  Snagging my t-shirt off the back of a chair, I pull it on over my head, covering my tattoos. “I’ve informed the new slave why she’s here. I doubt she’ll be much trouble.”

  The tension in the air eases.

  They all know better than to displease me. My moods can be volatile. Make the mistake of riling my anger and they know it can be fatal.

  “She really is a beauty. I wonder how long it will take us to pluck all her feathers free while choking the life from her slender pale neck?”

  “Did you have her checked?” I ask, ignoring his eager words.

  “Her hymen is intact.” Lucien confirms.

  So the Devil’s oracle is still a virgin.

  A smile edges up my lips.

  I don’t need my men drooling over her. My Dove’s innocence shines through. A temptation. I can already see their envy. They’ve been allowed to play with slaves in the past, but this one, they will not touch.

  “No one is to touch her but me,” I inform them, reinforcing the instructions that have already been left. “And stop lazing around and finish packing those boxes. Customers have paid well for their bliss, and they should receive them on time without a hiccup.”

  My frosty glare is met with lowered eyes.

  They all fear me. What lies beneath my masks is not a pretty sight. I’m not beautiful. Once I was considered handsome. Women would swoon in my wake. Beg to share my bed. Now they recoil in loathing and terror. What I am now was born of betrayal and tragic circumstance. It has honed me to become a master at my craft.

  My name comes with expectations. Here my role is simple. I’ve already written the future I am now destined to have, and nothing will change that.

  Lucien nods. “As you wish, Master Soren.”

  The sound of a soft feminine voice draws everyone’s attention to the door. The woman who enters the room is a stunning creature. Short, silvery hair frames her beautiful face. She’s dressed in grey, a soft leather dress, which clings to her gentle curves with the tenacity of a second skin. High heels match the outfit, giving her inches to her height.

  Her blood red eyes meet mine in an air of calculation.

  Mistress Kalia. The vampiress who governs the place with an iron fist as the prison Warden. Most males here are clever enough to fear her. She doesn’t tolerate mistakes.

  “Master Soren. I see you’ve already visited our newest inmate. A client is paying well to have this one broken in. She’s to receive the full treatment.” Kalia’s brows arch in a silent question.

  I’m fully aware of the contract. How much is being paid. Cassandra is here for however long molding her into the perfect concubine takes.

  “That won’t be a problem.”

  “Excellent.” Her smile is pleased, giving me a hint of fang. “After some disturbing reports from the palace, we need some good news. Our King is still locked away in his wing and refuses to speak to anyone but those few chosen advisers.”

  I don’t give a fuck what happens up there. The world I know is here in these ancient walls that I’ve called home for so long now. Nothing beyond them concerns me as it once had. I’d turned my back on all that when the last thread of my life had been severed so cruelly.

  Kalia’s hand touches mine, hindering my exit when I move to leave. “Soren, “I’ll see you in my chambers later.”

  She has plenty of males who are interested in fucking her, but she’s always found her way into my bed. The vampiress enjoys being dominated. In her rooms, she becomes quite the submissive.

  Moving out of reach of her touch, I incline my head. “As you wish.”

  I have duties to fulfil before she can have her fun.

  3

  Cassandra

  The sound of my footsteps echo as I pace the confines of my cell. Without a window to the world outside, I’ve lost all sense of time. It’s left me confused and disorientated. Arms wrapped comfortingly around my waist, I wonder what this monster wants with me. For my gift of sight? The questions tumble around inside my head until it begins to ache.

  Visions creep in. Snatches of chaotic pictures and fleeting emotions. Instead of relief at the familiar curse that plagues me, I cling to lucidity. I need to think clearly not descend into chaos with something I can’t always control. If they cripple me, this lunatic will find me easy prey.

  Shaking invades my limbs as I try hard not to spiral down into panic. Trying to distract myself, I inspect the food he’s left. Everything is sealed and doesn’t look like it has been tampered with. Ripping open the sandwich packet, I frown. I very much doubt he’s poisoned the food. If Master wants to get rid of me quickly, he wouldn’t have brought me here. Hungrily I bite into the bread. My last meal was hours ago. Something my sister had bought me. Swallowing the chunks down, it goes some way to easing the cramp
in my stomach.

  How long does he intend to keep me here? Zoning in on the bucket, I grimaced. Does he really expect me to use that? It’s disgusting. At least my other cell had a functioning toilet. Finishing my food, I pad around the space. Brick walls. Rough surfaces. It looks old. A High ceiling with the one light bulb hanging from it. Am I in a basement?

  I release a shallow breath. The air holds a chill. Not used to being naked all the time, it causes me discomfort. My scars are visible. Ones I keep hidden from everybody. Marks of shame self-inflicted. Why has he taken my clothes? I don’t like the possibilities that my imagination keeps coming up with.

  Without warning, the sound of the bolts being drawn back startles me from my thoughts.

  Scrambling back, I have nowhere to hide as the door swings open.

  In silence, Master charges straight toward me. Gaze intent, his stare bores into mine like a hawk after a mouse.

  Instinct takes over. As he gets close, I jump to my left. The door is open. Freedom. Avoiding his hands, I sprint for the exit. Finding myself in a corridor I have a split second to see a long narrow passageway.

  A hand tangles in my hair. A second later, Master drags me viciously backward. Crying out, I twist in his grip. Bringing my knee up, I try to kick him in the nuts.

  He deflects the blow easily with his knee. “Nice try, but you’ll have to be faster than that.” Dark, cold eyes glint through their slits in his mask.

  “Get off me,” I snarl, lips curling back, raking my nails across the material over his chest.

  His free hand snakes around my wrist. Leg sweeping low, he takes me easily off my feet.

  With an oomph, my bare back hits the stone floor. Shock and pain momentarily paralyze me as he moves in.

  This close, I can see the whole horror of the realistic disguise he wears.

  Flipping me over, he places his knee at the center of my back.

  Screaming, fighting I soon realize he has me expertly pinned. Taking my arms, he holds them together in one big, warm hand. Something solid slides over one of my wrists. It's followed with a click. As the other wrist is confined, I realize he’s using handcuffs.

  The weight off his knee abruptly leaves. Before I can look over my shoulder to see what’s going on, cruel hands haul me up onto my feet. In silence, Master fists my hair in one hand.

  Attempting to dislodge his hold, I twist from side to side. But the only thing it does is bring tears to my eyes as his touch becomes painful. Agony screams through my skull as the hair follicles are wrenched.

  Dragging me back down the corridor, we pass through an open door. My attention zeros in on a tub. It’s filled to the brim. The clear water is eerily still.

  With his superior weight, Master forces me onto my knees. Using my hair, he plunges my head down into the waiting liquid. It’s ice cold. Filling my nose and open mouth, I gag as it overwhelms my throat. Kicking and bucking uselessly, I attempt to save myself. Master’s strength is more than I can contend with. As seconds tick by, my terror rises. He isn’t going to let me up. Panicking even more, the air leaves my lungs in a bubbling stream.

  As the pressure holding me down suddenly eases, my head is roughly brought back up. Coughing and spluttering, my chest burns with the effort to breathe again.

  “Here are the rules. You don’t run from me.” His steely voice is a growl in my ear. I can feel the leather of his mask pressing against my cheek. “If you do, then this is what will happen, and each time, I will hold you under longer. You obey me. When I tell you to do something, you do it. If I ask you a question, you answer truthfully. No arguments. No excuses, no delays. Do you understand?”

  I nod my head in understanding. Hair is plastered to my face. Blinking droplets of water from my eyelashes, I stare at him from the corner of my eye.

  Forcing me to move, he marches us across the room. One hand still wrapped in my hair, the other on the cuffs that have my hands secured behind my back.

  My gaze bounces around the new place. A large wooden cross is positioned at the far end. Against the walls on either side, I spot two large metal cabinets. Chains dangle from the ceiling and more are coiled on the floor.

  Leading me in their direction, Master directs me to stand beneath it. Uncuffing me quickly, he secures my hands into the waiting restraints.

  In helpless desperation, I yank my wrists against them. I can’t move. Each of the leather cuffs are buckled securely.

  In one fluid movement, he strips off his shirt. All the muscles his t-shirt has lovingly hugged are now in full view. The tattoos I’d barely noticed on his arms come sharply into focus. Every inch permanently inked in black. Skulls nestled in curling seductive tendrils. No. Vines. Each skeletal face a macabre flower. Not just there but everywhere. They cover his torso, winding around his body and up over his shoulders.

  The people he’s killed. Are they a gruesome tally of the lives he’s taken?

  This man is a psychopath. I’m at his mercy, and I’m not even sure if he even has any.

  Master prowls toward the wall. Opening the cabinet, he stands, staring at the contents inside.

  “You’ll beg my father to kill you slowly as you snivel at his feet. Your blood will paint the walls,” I warn him, still struggling futilely.

  “I’ve heard similar threats fall from others' lips, and none of them have come to fruition.”

  “Mine are a promise.”

  “Lucifer has no idea where you are, and no one will ever find you here. You really believe you’ll be missed?” he asks as he begins to inspect and touch whatever he’s looking at with a professionalism that has me curling my fingers into my palms. What does he have in there? Torture devices? Knives? Is this why he’s brought me here?

  “Yes.”

  “Hmm.” A long black slim leather stick is now clutched in his grasp. Flexing it between his hands Master then proceeds to swish it through the air.

  A chill runs through my veins. I’m not naive enough not to know what it is.

  “Please don’t hurt me.” Breathing escalating, I can’t look away from the terrifying crop.

  Ignoring my plea, he strides purposefully back toward me. With measured steps he begins to circle my chained-up form.

  Every time he disappears behind me, I tense. He’s going to hit me. I’m fully aware of that. Bracing for what is to come is an automatic reaction.

  The swish of the crop slices through the air. As it lands on my left arse cheek, pain shoots through the globe, and I yelp. “Argh!”

  “Listen closely, you need to accept your fate. You don’t have a choice. You’re a possession now. Merchandise to be sold and molded. You’re mine, Little Dove, and so you will take everything I fucking give you. I’ve broken more slaves than I care to count so don’t think you’ll be any different. Now say ‘thank you, Master’ for every blow I bestow on you.”

  Shock sends the breath whooshing out of my lungs.

  Again, the instrument of torture smacks across my skin. Harder this time. It makes me realize he has to be holding back.

  Fingers entwine in my hair dragging my head backward. “Say, thank you, Master.”

  How would Mavi, my older sister, respond?

  “Suck my non-existent cock,” I spit, baring my teeth.

  He chuckles. “Such a filthy mouth and not ladylike at all, but I’ll work that out of you. Or maybe I’ll find a use for it with my cock.”

  Without a word, Master brings it down on my buttocks again and again.

  Flinching, I writhe, trying to escape. Why is he doing this to me? I’m not a bad person. Why is the universe letting this all happen?

  I sob, unable to contain the emotions that break like a dam. “It hurts. No more, please.”

  “Such lovely tears.” Yanking my hair back painfully, a second time, Master’s cold gaze bores into mine.

  “I’m not a bad person.” I hiccup, fighting to get myself under control. “What have I ever done to make you hate me? Why do you have nothing but emptiness inside
you?”

  “This is business.” Tongue flicking out, he licks away the wetness that dampens my cheek. “And because I can.”

  4

  Soren

  I’m aware that Cassandra is feeling disoriented. Without any natural light, she has no idea what stage of the day we are in or even if it’s the next. It’s intentional to keep her this way.

  I pause to admire my work. The crop has decorated her perfect peachy skin in a pleasing pattern of red welts across her buttocks. They’ll be pulsating as the blood rises and pounds in the tissue I’ve abused. Cassandra has finally stopped blubbering after half an hour. Her tears are something I enjoy. A feebleness. One in my world that predators delight in. Women always cry down here. It doesn’t take long to crush their wills.

  My little Dove talks about family. Hers was stolen from her long ago by the man she now calls father. The same male who took the last of mine from me. His only use for her is the visions she sees. The Devil doesn’t love. He plots and schemes. Steals things from others that don’t belong to him. Destroys without remorse. His heart is as black as sin. Now I have something of his. How much real worth does this girl hold? Will he feel the bitter pain of loss or merely leave her to this fate?

  “I want to see you bleed. I want to hear your screams echoing through this room. Here you are nothing but my toy.” Nuzzling the back of her neck, I draw in her scent. She smells of desperation and fear. A mixture that makes my cock, which is already up, even harder. Cassandra possesses an elegance I’ve rarely seen. A defiance. It’s an instant snare to my darker side.

  I take a second to marvel at her young, nubile body. Skin unblemished, bar the silvery scars that mar her inner arms, she has perfect curves and valleys I want to explore. Did she inflict them herself, or were they a previous harsh punishment from the male who raised her? A reminder that she is his possession?