The Culling by Bella Moondragon

Author:Bella Moondragon
Language: eng
Format: epub

WHOSE ROOM IS THIS?

*Ainslee*

“Whose room is this, Zeke?” I ask again, waiting for the burly vampire to respond to me.

He lets out a loud sigh and strolls into the room. Reluctantly, I follow, afraid this is some sort of a ploy. Why has it not occurred to me at all since I left home that these vampires might use feeders for more than just their blood? Or maybe they get their jollies from sucking our blood and don’t need to do other things to us.

“Look around, Ainslee.” He spreads his long arms out in the middle of the room near the four-poster bed and doesn’t come close to touching anything because the room is so large.

I step inside and look things over. The bedspread is a light green color, and it looks so soft, I long to touch it. The bed is huge—big enough for my whole family to sleep in without anyone kicking anyone else. I’m not sure what that would feel like. It’s been so long since I slept in a bed alone, I don’t remember it.

There’s a large armoire in the same rich cherry wood, as well as a dresser and vanity. Across the room, I see a private bathroom, and it looks like the house has running water, a luxury we did have at my old house, but it was difficult to maintain. There’s a shower and a toilet in there, I can see.

Across the room near a large window, with drapes that match the bedspread, there are two comfy looking chairs and an ottoman, as well as a bookshelf. A fireplace takes up a large section of the wall near the bathroom door, it’s heat warming the entire room, and a rug covers the wooden floor, tying it altogether and making it seem cozy, as well as inviting.

I’ve done as he asked and had a look around. Upon closer inspection, I can’t say that I think this is his room. It’s too feminine. I can’t imagine Rafe staying in here either. So I’m wondering if it is one of the princesses rooms. Am I to serve one of them? Maybe as a maid? Or a personal feeder?

“It’s lovely,” I say with a shrug. “Whoever lives here must be quite important.”

“She is,” he says with a nod, dropping his arms. “It’s about time you began to recognize that.”

My forehead puckers as I assume he means he thinks that I don’t have any respect for anyone, including the princesses. I say nothing as he crosses in front of me and approaches the armoire, tugging it open. Inside, I see lots of beautiful gowns, some even fancy enough for balls. There are other items of clothing as well. Sweaters. Skirts. Slacks.

“Princess Sophia chose all of these,” he explains, pulling a few of the skirt bottoms out for me to look at. “I hope you like them.”

“She has lovely taste,” I say. So this is Princess Sophia’s room. I look around some more, wondering where she’s at.

“Dinner is served at eight every evening.

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