In the Dark

Chapter 8

Riccardo didn't decide to rejoin Leon's side after having joined the other nobles at the front of their party. Leon stared at the back of the prince's head where it bobbed with every step of his gryphon and noted the tension in the prince's shoulders. After knowing the vampire prince for less than 2 days, he couldn't say they were close enough for him to care about the well-being aspect of the prince's tension, but he found himself worrying whether it meant anything about him. He'd heard the comments about Riccardo not having bitten him and knew that didn't mean good things for his future.

The mystery of why Riccardo wouldn't bite him remained in the air, though. Who'd ever heard of a vampire refusing to feed on people? Was it just something about him being a fae? Could a vampire be allergic to fae blood? Was it an actual moral issue- however unlikely that seemed?

Leon didn't know, but he supposed he should just be grateful he'd been gifted to a vampire with some self-control. There were more pressing things to consider, anyway: like how miserably hopeless it was that he'd ever have his freedom again. His horse trudged through the snow, walking automatically with the rest of the group, not tied to anything and meanwhile, his limbs were not tied, either. He was just as he had been walking with Mahvash and her people; theoretically, he looked like he was a free man traveling with his companions.

The perceived freedom was somehow worse than if they had him tied and dangling over the back of a horse. He'd become some sort of willing accomplice to his own enslavement. It disgusted him, and yet he just kept sitting like a lump as his horse carried him to his doom.

He couldn't forget that no matter if Riccardo refused to bite him, the prince held the key to his shackles, now. He was just a blood bag to these leeches and the prince was his enemy.

For hours the small group continued to ride through the frozen forest and Leon felt like a dark cloud must have been visible above his head for all the quiet brooding he was doing. If anyone noticed it, they didn't say anything to him. All the while, the forest got thicker, the path less and less noticeable. The trees started to feel suffocatingly close, and they were all soon walking single-file through them. By now, it had been nightfall for hours, and whatever warmth the sun had left on the land was gone, and Leon shivered against the increasingly freezing temperatures.

He missed sunlight, he thought with a pang, throwing a glance out into the pitch-black of the woods. He couldn't see a thing, barely able to discern one tree from another for how dark and how closely together they grew. The darkness was unnerving and he had a sudden, inexplicable feeling like he was being watched by something out in the woods. It made him hold tighter to the reins of his horse, and squint into the blackness of the forest, feeling suddenly exposed to the trees where he sat.

There was at least one vampire riding behind him and several ahead, but he knew better than to think he would be their priority if some creature barreled out of the darkness at them. He almost wished he were riding atop the prince's fierce gryphon. He bet nothing messed with that beast.

Leon's attention was still so intent on the forest around him and that feeling of being watched that his horse coming to a stop beneath him came so suddenly he lurched forward in his saddle just a little. He looked forward to see what had made the animal stop only to see the entire procession had come to a standstill. The vampires all seemed tense, sitting up straight, and utterly silent. He saw a few arms reach for weapons, but he couldn't fucking see or hear why.

"What's -"

"Shh," someone behind him hushed him sharply before he could even finish his question.

And that was when he heard it, a long howl echoing from somewhere beyond his limited field of sight. It was a long and mournful sound but drawn out longer and louder than any ordinary wolf's.