Silk by Claire Vale

Author:Claire Vale
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Vampires, Dystopian, end of the world romance, teen dystopian romance, apocalyptic, post-apocalyptic, end of the world, fantasy, paranormal, coming of age
Publisher: Claire Vale
Published: 2020-06-26T00:00:00+00:00

17

THE HOUSE OF ELL is a manor cottage shrouded in rambling roses, a short walk from the castle through a forest glade. At least, it feels like a short walk, I can’t be sure. My mind keeps drifting off into an abyss of nightmares—Kane wrapped in ribbons and bows and delivered to some fang-toothed princess bride, Gabe’s head served on a silver-domed platter with a glazed apple stuffed into his mouth like some pig’s head at a medieval banquet.

The grotesque pictures regurgitate bile and acid in an endless loop between my throat and stomach until a line of fire threatens to split my chest, but I can’t rid them from my tormented head.

In this place, we are food.

A source of nutrition.

The prince and Rustward and all these damned bloodsuckers barely deign to address us, they talk around us as if we’re livestock on the auction block.

Fury swells and ebbs within me, trading places with frustration and hopelessness and fear.

Embrace the fury.

Don’t fight the fear.

That’s become my mantra.

I don’t want to die, but it’s glaringly obvious I soon will. As much as that truth terrifies me, it’s a dark shadow that has followed me since the Tithe and I’m starting to come to terms with it.

I won’t go quietly.

I’ll tear these walls down with me on the way out.

My silent vows are nonsensical, I’m not totally crazy and deluded, but the oath settles into the pit of hot coals festering in my stomach and it feels good.

The sun isn’t yet visible in the sky, but daylight has definitely broken through the haze of pre-dawn and the pair of guards escorting me don’t seem overly concerned. If they’re sensitive to daylight, they’re not showing it.

I’m not at all surprised to find Mistress Ell waiting for me at the cottage door, a vision draped in flowing pastel layers of gossamer silk that float off her shoulders and swirl around her long legs. Who else would be in charge of the House of Ell?

She extends her hands to me in a friendly greeting. “Welcome to the House of Ell.”

Her lyrical voice grates on my raw nerves. A few choice words tingle on my tongue, but I clamp my mouth into a snarl, my eyes burrowed beneath my sunken brow.

“I’ll take it from here.” She waves my escort away with a dismissive flap of her hand, then turns a serene smile on me. “What is your name?”

“Senna Rhys,” I spit out.

“Silk Senna,” she says. “It has a lovely sound. Come.”

She steps inside with a gesture for me to follow and disappears from view.

My gaze travels over the double row of tall windows that front the cottage. Rambling roses with pink, white and red blossoms have the bones of this structure in their thorny clutch. Tendrils creep along the windowsills and form a natural, chaotic lattice across the glass panes.

A shiver ripples down my spine.

If I step inside, they’ll choke me just as surely as they’re choking the life from this cottage.

My throat tightens.

Mistress Ell steps into view on the threshold.

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