Page 9 of Crimson Shifter

Why did I agree to waltz back into the very source of all my pain?

I swore to myself so long ago that I’d never come back here, and yet here I was, doing my best to somehow cling to whatever mask Talon had spoken of before. The one I used in the courts.

But this would not be a room full of noble vampires that were easily distracted by an elegant smile and a clever dip of the head. This was my family. And while the nickname Talon had given me irked me to no end, they were the very things he claimedIwas.

Vipers. Silent, sneaky, and venomous.

Talon stood at my side as stoically as Shadow would’ve. The male had replicated her form so intently that it would be impossible for anyone else to tell the difference. Even I’d foundit incredibly unnerving on our flight over here, looking at the creature that I’ve loved for so long and yet knowing that Shadow was anywhere but next to me. Add it to the list of mind fucks that were no doubt about to happen on this trip.

I finally raised my hand to the golden knocker on the set of double doors at the entryway of my family’s home, but there was no need, as they were now swinging open. My mother's talem, Joffrey, bowed at the waist, dressed in his usual immaculate black and white tux as he motioned us inside.

“Miss Zorin,” he said as we walked into the elaborate foray. “The lady of the house is expecting you. She’s set up refreshments in the study. Is there anything you need before I escort you there?”

“No, thank you, Joffrey,” I said in my best court voice, a tone riddled with elegance and arrogance and boredom. “My flight was quite well. I can see her straightaway.”

Joffrey dipped his head, giving Talon—Shadow—a wide berth as he led me through the mansion.

The place was exactly as I remembered, except for a few modernized additions. The estate had been in my family for centuries and boasted an open concept plan with floor-to-ceiling windows that acted as doors and opened to the island surrounding it. Under any other circumstances, it would be a beautiful retreat. A place to recharge and work on much needed self-care. Sadly, this place was anything but comfortable.

The more hallways we turned down, the more nerves tangled beneath my skin, making it harder and harder to breathe. I clung to my decades of practice to ensure that my ice-cold terror couldn't be scented by anybody near us.

A little trick I’d picked up in my younger years, something that became almost second nature after being locked in a torture chamber repeatedly. I learned very quickly the more scared Iwas as a youngling, the more punishment I received. My mother and father believed that fear was our greatest weakness.

And by the time Joffrey opened the door to the study, I’d shoved all hesitance and fear inside a locked box that I’d created decades ago. The hunter at my side posing as my pet may have had centuries of fighting and survival training, but I doubted even he could match my skill level when it came to masking my emotions.

The notion that I could beat him atanythinggave me just enough confidence and pride to shore up the Zorin role I’d been raised to play as I laid eyes on my mother.

“Darling Cassandra,” she said as she rose from a red leather wingback chair and pranced over to us.

She was stunning. There was no denying that. She had long black hair and rich brown eyes that resembled my own, and she was dressed in a ball gown fit for court that fluttered as she moved toward us. Her thin eyebrows drew together as she reached me, clasping my bare shoulders in what to outsiders would look like an embrace, but what I knew was a show of power.

“You look dreadful, darling,” she said, shaking her head and sucking her teeth. “The flight was only four hours. Did you not drink a drop? You look as if you haven't fed in months. Come, come, I had Joffrey prepare your favorite.”

I did my best not to react to the backhanded comment, knowing I’d fed perfectly well before our flight this evening. I flinched a little as she turned me farther into the room, revealing an elegant coffee table that had a human feeder draped across it.

The young male had been outfitted in a ridiculous costume-like array of clothing, lots of brightly colored feathers to make him look like some exotic bird waiting to be plucked and prepared for dinner.

“How generous of you,” I said, knowing the response was expected as she led me to the other side of the coffee table, reclaiming her wingback chair on the other side so that she was facing me.

Talon stalked in front of me, his fur brushing against my legs as he circled to lie at my feet. It was incredible how much the vampire had studied Shadow’s movements in the little time we’d known each other. He'd adapted so quickly to this form; it was no wonder he was one of the legendary hunters with this ability.

My mother pursed her lips as if she'd bitten into a lemon, her eyes on Talon. “I see you're still rather attached to that creature,” she said, before shaking her head. “Oh well, at least she can hunt in the jungle and perhaps put a dent in some of our overpopulation problems.”

I glanced down at Talon before returning my attention to her. “Shadow is an excellent huntress,” I said, stifling a laugh at how it applied to both my actual panther and this impostor next to me. “I'm sure she’ll have that problem handled in no time.”

“Good,” Mother said, then waved to the human who remained silent in an almost hypnotic state on the table. He’d no doubt been drugged, but only enough to where he wouldn't be able to struggle, while still aware enough to understand everything that was going on.

It was my mother's way.

“Eat, darling. You look absolutely starved.”

For some reason my eyes fell to Talon’s panther ones, some internal curling sensation happening inside of me at the idea that he might judge me.

But that was a ridiculous notion because one, I didn't give a fuck what he thought, and two, he knew exactly what he was signing up for. He might not have a clue about my family's extensive abusive nature, but he knew who the Zorins were. He knew they did not delight in drinking the canned blood thatwas offered to everyone in court or using the willing human feeders in a healthy way. No, my family lived for the days of old, where power was enforced, because that's just the way the world worked.

I slowly reached for the human’s hand that hung limply over the table, decorated with green paint to look like more feathers. I turned it palm up, exposing the delicate skin of his wrist, and hesitated.

My mother watched my every move, her eyes like a heat signature stinging every inch of my body. This felt like a test. Like some sick initiation back into the Zorin household. It was easy for a vampire to control the intention behind a bite—I could make it feel good, I could make it so good this human would come in his little costume. I could just as easily make it hurt. Make it terrifying.