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Chapter 164

Current Day

I’ve lost track of how many years I have been in this hell. The feeding room, aptly named on my first night, is where I am taken every night. Every night the humans are brought in to feed on. Every missing person that is never found, every runaway child, even many of the individuals that are trafficked are captured and killed by vampires.

The night after I arrived, Sebastian chose his feeder. Surprisingly, he didn’t kill her. She has been here as long as I have. Unfortunately for her, he has no problem raping her while he’s feeding. She stopped crying a long time ago. Most of the humans don’t survive the first night. If they do, they never survive the second. I’ve been forced to watch every day as men, women, children, elderly, it doesn’t matter, they are brought in, used, fed on and in some instances when the vampires become overcome with bloodlust, ripped apart.

The sounds of screaming, crying, pleading, and dying have become the music that I am forced to listen to day after endless day. There was only one time when I was given a reprieve from being fed on. When another vampire coven came to visit, Prince Keenan thought to share me with the royalty of the visiting coven. I nearly died from the loss of blood. Prince Keenan had to kill the other vampire in order to get him off me, ripping him away from my neck, barely missing my carotid artery.

I was given three days to rest. The only three days of rest I’ve had since I arrived here so many years ago. Sometimes when I’m being fed on, I wonder what it is that I’ve done to deserve this. My life has been anything but easy. Alessia is rarely in my head anymore. In the beginning, she was strong and able to heal me quickly. Over time, my bite marks have started to scar, and she is only able to heal the worst of my puncture wounds. The marks are everywhere on my body, wherever Prince Keenan chooses to feed on me. They are on my arms, my legs, my breasts, my inner thighs, my backside. Anywhere and everywhere he has wanted to feed on me he has.

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