“Why would he do this?” she shouted.
I drew back, startled at her anger. “Cneajna, I do not know. Are you not happy that we have returned?”
“He left us here to starve. Why? Tell me, Glynis? Why would he do that?”
“I do not know.”
She looked about the room, those gold earrings swinging about. “Why would he give you this room far from his other Brides?”
“He has his own agendas. You know how he is,” I answered, trying to keep my voice very calm.
She lashed out so quickly, so fiercely, I never saw her move. I felt the brutal sting of her slap across my face and I cringed in shock.
“I took you into my heart! I helped him create you! I called you daughter!”
“Cneajna, please,” I cried out. “I love you.”
She hesitated in her angry torrent of words. Tears sparkled on her cheeks as she whispered, “And I love you.”
I reached out to her and she took my hands. Her fingers felt warm in mine, but she was trembling.
“Cneajna, please. I wanted him to come and make sure you all were all right. I begged him to do so. I do not know why he would not,” I said. It was a bit of a lie and a bit of truth. Vlad’s dismissal of his Brides was very confusing to me.
She reached out and drew me to her, kissing my lips softly, as she had in my dream, and then my brow. I trembled with emotion as she did this and, she, being the taller woman, held me gently against her. Her lips were soft and warm against my brow as her long blond hair flowed over her arm to form a cloak over my body.
“I love you, Glynis, but I am not a fool,” she said in a low voice. “You are now the first in our husband’s affections. And, worst yet, in his household.”
I started to protest, but her nails raked my neck and face, slicing deep and drawing blood. It splattered across her face and mine. She drew back slowly, moving backwards toward the door. Slowly, she licked my blood from her full red lips.
Tears streamed down my face as I recalled the story that she had told me long ago of the day she killed her husband’s mistress. I remembered vividly how she told me she had stabbed the woman to death then licked her enemy’s blood from her lips.
“Cneajna,” I whispered.
Her blue eyes cold and her gaze fastened firmly upon me, she glided out of my bedroom. She raised a hand and the door slammed between us.
The gypsy women stood around my room, their eyes wide and not daring to breathe.
“Leave me,” I ordered them.
Immediately, they rushed the door and escaped.
Weeping, I sat down at my vanity and covered my torn face with my hands. Slowly, I felt my flesh heal, but my heart was utterly broken.
I did not tell Vlad what had happened between Cneajna and I when he came to me later in the night. I was overwhelmed with grief over the episode, but I could not bear to tell him what had happened. To relate what I had experienced was too much to endure. I felt desolate in my heartbreak. He took my moodiness as a sign of my discontentment at our return to the castle and reassured me that we would depart soon.
“I know this,” I answered him shortly. “But there is no solace in this horrible place.” I sat in the window and gazed down over the Arges River. I was very angry and I directed my anger at him like a rapier. I did not care if he beat me. It could hurt no worse than Cneajna’s nails raking across my face and heart. “Or have you forgotten all the terrors you inflicted upon me here?”
“I have not forgotten,” he said as he sat in a chair nearby. He rested his hands upon his knees and gazed at me solemnly.
“How calm you are!” I laughed bitterly and wiped away a tear. “You killed me in this castle. My family and me. You tortured me. Tried to destroy me.”
“I know this,” he responded, his green eyes resting on me.
“Have you no regrets at all?” My voice was harsh and demanding. “Do you feel guilt? You did great evil here! You destroyed my soul and heart! Does this not burden you?”
In silence, he seemed to ponder my words, then shrugged. “I did what I felt was necessary at the time.”
Shaking my head, I looked away from him. “I hate you.”
“I did not know you then, Glynis. I did not understand your nature. I treated you as I have the others. I was determined to break you. Create a perfect vessel to do my will.”
I mocked him with my laughter, shaking my head.
He continued: “I know that you have obeyed me only out of the fear of what I can do to what remains of your family. Your brother was the leverage I needed to finally make you obey.” His voice grew harsh at the word obey. I felt his gaze resting heavily on me.
I wiped away more tears. The ring he had given me sparkled darkly on my finger.
“I had confidence in your fear of me. I had confidence that you understood fully what I am capable of. That I could and would destroy all you love to keep you in submission to my will.” His voice was low and thoughtful. He slightly shook his head, his long hair falling around his face. “But in retrospect…”
I dared not look at him.
“In Buda, I saw your strength and your power. I understand now that you are more of an asset than I ever dreamed. I underestimated you and that was a terrible mistake.”
“You, sir,” I said tartly, “are a bastard.”
He smirked at me. “Yes.”
“I am not just a pawn in your wicked games.” My voice was clipped as I spoke to him. “I will not be broken by you ever. Do you understand that? I am more than your Bride. I am more than that.”
“Yes, you are,” he agreed in a soft voice. He stood and approached me.
“Have you no shame for what you have done to me?” I asked him.
“No, for I created you and you are a wondrous creation.” His fingers lightly traced over my lips and chin.
His tenderness frustrated me, but yet calmed me.
I finally looked up at him to see him regarding me in a manner I was not used to. I cannot even describe his expression or his manner. I continued to cry as I looked upon him as I once more raised my hand to wipe away the tears that fell so freely.
In the midst of my weeping, he kissed me and kept kissing me until my frustration grew into terrible desire. I tangled my fingers in his hair and kissed him amorously as we clung to each other.
He whispered, “Be with me.”
It was the first time he had ever asked me to lay with him, and I blinked my eyes in confusion. He had always forced me, with little regard to my own needs or emotions. I felt fresh tears tumble from my lashes as I gazed into his green eyes. I saw need and compassion in his eyes for the first time and it touched me. In this castle of horrors, strangely, he was my only companion. Slowly, I nodded and his mouth found mine in a torrid kiss.
In all my times with Vlad, this is the one time I must admit I chose to be with him because of my own needs. Not to placate him, not to keep him from beating me, not to keep him from terrible things or to deceive him, but because I needed him.
How can you hate someone so completely, yet find solace with him?
I am not certain, but that night, I did.
Our lovemaking was passionate, yet unlike any experience I had ever had with him. For once he was tender and did not treat me as merely his instrument of pleasure. His hands caressed my face and body with gentleness I had not known until that night.
For once, I was not afraid of him and gave myself willingly, without fear or regret. His touch soothed me and, for a short time, I felt at peace with him and all we had endured.
His long sharp fangs sank slowly into my throat as he undressed me and I trembled with the pleasure of his bite. Lifting me up, he released my throat to fasten bloodied kisses on my lips. I wrapped my hands in his long tresses as he carried me to the bed where he had first bestowed me with his bite.
I gasped as he licked my breast and caressed me with his hand.
“You are mine,” he whispered against my skin.
I did not answer but helped him free himself of his clothing. Leaning over me, his hair dragged across my skin and made me whimper with delight. Once more he sank his teeth into me, this time over my nipple.
Always exquisite and full of pleasure, his bite made me writhe beneath him as I strained against his body.
“Vlad,” I moaned.
He rose and kissed my mouth softly. “You are mine. Tell me that. That you are mine.”
I sucked on his bottom lip, tasting my blood, and he pushed me down.
“Tell me,” he said. “Tell me that you are mine and I am yours.”
Slowly, drawing my tongue over his lips, I reached down and gripped his length firmly in my hand. “I am yours,” I lied.
Whatever he saw in my eyes, he relished it and kissed me deeply. Sliding one arm under my leg, he opened me and pushed inside. I remember the intensity of that moment for it is the only time I lay with him that I truly wanted him within me.
In the aftermath, he lay with his face buried in my neck, his arms around my waist. Our bodies were intertwined and I could feel my heartbeat fading as the blood that gave me life slowly lost its power.
The windows were closed, sealed shut to keep out the sunlight, and the room was thick with darkness.
His fingers combed through my long red hair as he lay next to me.
“You are Countess Dracula in all ways, Glynis,” he said finally.
“I know this,” I answered softly.
“Do you?”
“Yes,” I said, turning to gaze into his green eyes through the gloom.
He returned my gaze steadily. “I do not think you do yet.”
I had to concede this point. I could not fathom half of what he said to me or believe it. My fingers played with his long hair idly.
“You are my wife and I will not share you with any other. You are mine,” he said in a low voice.
I sighed and tried not to think of Ignatius. I did not wish to feel I had betrayed him by submitting to Vlad. The bond I share with my Master angers me, yet that night, it comforted me.
“You are a brute,” I said at last in response.
He slid his fingers into my hair and pressed his lips to my cheek as he whispered, “I forgive you. But I will not forgive him.”
“I know not what you speak of,” I answered, sliding my hand down his chest to caress his manhood.
“You are a vixen,” he said with a laugh and the dark tone was gone from his voice. He caught my hand and drew it to his lips to kiss. “Tomorrow, I shall arrange for us to move on to Vienna. I am not satisfied here,” he said at last.
I nodded, understanding far too well my own dissatisfaction.
“Vlad,” I said softly.
“Yes?”
I hesitated, then said, “I still hate you.”
He laughed with delight. “Yes, I know.”
I sighed as he pulled me closer to him. Wrapping his arms around me, he nuzzled my cheek.
“If you know, why do you keep me as your first?”
Vlad was very quiet and very still, but at last said, “Because it is your right.”
“I do not understand.”
“You choose not to understand,” he responded irritably.
I closed my eyes with a sigh. He was most likely right, but I was too exhausted to think. “Then you should toss me away.”
“Do not be foolish,” he answered with a snort.
I smiled at him coyly as I felt his fingers tracing over my features.
“Sleep, Glynis,” Vlad said softly.
Perhaps he willed it upon me with his power or I was just that weary, but as soon as his words faded I was sound asleep.
That night, my last night in the castle, we did not sleep in the chapel with the Brides. We slept intertwined, as husband and wife, in my chambers, and I remember, as I fell asleep, I truly felt as though he were mine and I was his. It was a strangely terrifying and comforting thought simultaneously. I wondered how I could find comfort with someone I hated.
I dreamed of my mother that day. I dreamed of her sitting by the bed, whispering that she loved me, and that my time would soon come. I dreamed of her kissing my forehead and feeling her tears on my face.
“Cara mia, be strong,” she whispered. “Do not forget what he is. What he has done.”
“I will not,” I promised her in my dream.
She smiled sadly at me then faded away as dreams tend to do.
I slept on in the arms of my Master.
Chapter 35
The Journal of Lady Glynis Wright - Continued
The terrible events of my last night in the castle haunt me as I sit and write this. I still feel my hands trembling as I put pen to paper. But I must tell what happened next though it breaks my heart, and my tears will not stop flowing down my cheeks.
Soon after rising, Vlad left the castle. He had a horse saddled for him and two guards on horseback waiting in the courtyard. I followed him out, uneasy with the events of the night before. I hated to see him leave and he would not tell me where he was going.