SOLD TO THE VAMPIRE EMPEROR

THE MAN WITH MY MATE'S FACE

NYRA'S POV

I opened my eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling.

It was made of smooth white stone, with thin cracks running across it like tiny veins. I stared at it for a long time before remembering… I was supposed to be dead.

I sat up slowly.

I was lying in a room unlike any I had ever seen. Where was I?

The bed beneath me was huge, covered with soft silver and ivory sheets that slipped through my fingers like water. The walls were made of pale stones, lit by tall candles burned steadily in iron holders, their flames perfectly still. Heavy curtains framed a large window, and sunlight streamed from the small opening.

Morning, perhaps.

I placed a hand on the mattress and tried to remember: the altar, the elders, the black markings burning on my skin, the silver light…and then that voice.

Found you.

I quickly examined my arms. The strange symbols were gone. So were the iron shackles.

Instead, I was wearing a white gown I had never seen before. When I lowered my feet, they touched a thick woven rug instead of cold stone.

"She's awake," someone whispered.

I turned toward the voice. Three young women were near the door, all of them dressed in neat grey uniforms, their hair tied back. All stared at me with blank expressions.

"Where am I?" I asked. My voice sounded dry and weak.

The tallest woman stepped forward. "You're in the East wing of Morvane Keep, my lady. You've been unconscious for two days."

I gaped at her, almost expecting her to laugh. Two days? How?

I swept my gaze around the room again. Something felt terribly wrong. There was no pack scent. That was what unsettled me the most. Every place I had ever lived carried the scent of wolves. The warmth of a pack living together lingered in every hallway. Even the prison cells back home smelled like my people.

This room smelled of candle wax and cold stone. Nothing else.

"What is Morvane Keep?" I asked.

The three women exchanged uneasy glances. "Perhaps you should rest a little longer," the shortest one said gently.

"I'm not resting." I climbed out of bed. My legs shook, but I stayed upright. "I want to know where I am, how I got here, and I want answers now."

"My lady, we were instructed to keep you comfortable until…"

"Until what?"

No one replied. I walked to the window and pulled the curtain aside. The sight stole my breath.

There were no pack grounds, or Veldmoor Mountains or the great pine woods. Instead, a massive stone courtyard stretched below me, surrounded by high walls and watchtowers. Beyond those walls I could see a city. A real city, with roads, tall towers and hundreds of buildings spreading toward distant hills under a grey sky.

I glanced farther to the courtyard. The building continued into several connected wings linked by stone walkways. It wasn't just a mansion, it was a castle. An ancient castle. One that was completely different from the one I had come from.

"Where are the wolves?"

No response.

I whirled around. "I asked where the wolves were. The pack. Any pack. I can't smell a single wolf in this place."

The tallest servant opened her mouth...and closed it when she heard footsteps outside the room. All three women immediately faced the door. Without hesitation, they dropped to their knees, heads lowered and hands folded. It looked automatic, as though they had done it a thousand times.

The door opened, and a man walked in.

I froze. My hands went numb. The curtain I was holding slipped from my fingers. I stared at the man in the doorway and felt my heart shattered.

Aeron.

It was his face. Exactly his. Dark eyes, strong jaw and broad shoulders occupying wherever he stood. His hair was slightly longer, brushed away from his forehead, even that was painfully familiar.

For one impossible moment… I believed.

"Aeron." His name escaped my lips as little more than a whisper.

With no second thought, I was already moving. I crossed the room, grabbed the front of his shirt with both hands, and buried my face into his chest. My body trembled.

He caught me.

His hands settled around my arms, keeping me on my feet. For two brief seconds… I let myself believe. That the execution had never happened. That the accusations had been a nightmare. That the last six days of hatred and humiliation had never existed. That he was alive and had never left me.

I shivered when he touched me. Cold.

Not the ordinary cold of cool skin. It was the icy chill of stone. The same lifeless cold I had felt beneath my feet while standing on the execution altar. The kind that never warmed.

I frowned. Aeron had always been warm. I used to sleep beside him because his body gave off so much heat even in the winter. These hands weren't his. I retreated back and raised my face to his. The features were identical but the eyes weren't Aeron's.

Aeron's eyes had always been gentle whenever we were alone. These eyes were older and sharp. They watched me as though they had been waiting for me for a very long time.

A small smile appeared on his lips. "You've recovered quickly," he said. "Especially for someone who was unconscious for two days."

Even his voice sounded similar, the same deep tone, but somehow, the warmth was missing. The softness that used to live in every word Aeron spoke to me. This voice was smooth too.

"Who are you?" I couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Zevran." He answered as though the name needed no explanation. "Zevran Morvane. And you're in my home."

"You have his face."

Something flashed in his countenance. Curiosity, perhaps. "Do I?" He angled his head to one side. "Interesting."

"Don't do that.” My voice came out harsher than I intended. "Don't smile at me like that. Who are you really? Why do you take after him and what am I doing here?”

"So many questions." He walked farther into the room. The servants remained kneeling. He ignored them completely. "You're here because I brought you," he said. "As for the rest of your questions, there's plenty of time."

"I'm not your prisoner."

"No," he replied easily. "You're not."

"Then I'm leaving."

"You're free to try." His eyes briefly darted to the window. "You'll find the city disorienting. You don't even know where you are. You won't get very far."

The confidence in his voice made my fists tighten. He stood there in his enormous castle as though nothing could challenge him. As though I were a puzzle waiting to be solved.

"She belongs to me now," he said to no one in particular.

My palm caught his cheek. The slap landed before I finished the thought. The sound of it cracked through the room. The servants flinched but none of them dared move.

Silence followed.

Zevran turned his face slowly back to me. His cheek held the faint print of my hand. His countenance did not change.

Then he laughed. A genuine and amused laugh, warm with surprise. "There she is," he said softly.

Before I could re

act, he gently but firmly lifted my chin.

His lips parted and I saw them. Two sharp fangs, white as bone and utterly real.