“Yes,” she said, and knew in that moment that it was true. Somewhere along the way, she had fallen in love with him.

“And does he love you?” Liliana asked, her brow furrowed.

“I don’t know.”

“Love!” Rodin said, sneering. “An overrated emotion, to be sure. It has nothing to do with Drake’s responsibility to the Coven.”

Elena cleared her throat. “I would think that our marriage would negate his betrothal to another.”

“Our race is very old,” Rodin said, resuming his seat. “Our men are strong and virile, as you undoubtedly know. However, in spite of their lusty nature, they are unable to procreate until they have survived for five centuries. And because our women far outnumber the men, it is forbidden for males who attain that age to waste their seed on mortal women. Such unions do not produce offspring.”

Elena stared at him. She had not given any thought to having children, had just assumed it would happen sooner or later. Now, realizing it would never happen filled her with an unexpected sadness.

“The breeding season for our women is short,” Rodin continued. “The woman chosen for Drake is young and fertile.”

Elena clenched her hands. Drake had told her that Rodin wouldn’t hurt her, but she was beginning to have her doubts.

“Rodin,” Liliana said quietly, “I believe you are scaring our guest.”

He grunted softly. “I must think about this. Take her to dinner.”

Elena felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. Was she going to be dinner?

“Come with me,” Liliana said imperiously.

Filled with trepidation, Elena followed Liliana out of the room, down a wide candlelit hallway lined with portraits, and into a large dining hall. The walls were stark white, devoid of decoration. Dozens of young men and women sat at long trestle tables that were laden with bowls and platters and baskets filled with more food than Elena had ever seen. The women all wore long gray dresses; the men wore gray vests and pants.

The occupants all turned to look at Elena when she entered the room.

Liliana guided her to an empty seat at the last table near the back of the room. “Please, sit down. I will bring you a tray.”

Murmuring, “Thank you,” Elena sat down, acutely conscious of the stares being sent her way. Some of the occupants appeared merely curious, but a few regarded her with obvious malevolence. She thought it odd that, for so many people, there was no conversation at all.

Liliana returned a short time later. She set a tray before Elena that held more food than she could have eaten in a week.

“I did not know what you liked,” Liliana explained, taking the seat across from her, “so I brought you a little of everything. Please, eat.”

Smiling faintly, Elena picked up the fork, surprised to find the utensils were made of stainless steel and not gold-plated, like the utensils at Wolfram Castle. She took a bite of an individual-sized casserole topped with mashed potatoes.

“Is it to your liking?” Liliana asked.

Elena nodded. “May I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Are all these people vampires?”

Liliana smiled indulgently. “No. They are sheep.”

“Excuse me?”

“The Fortress houses a number of vampires, both old and young,” Liliana replied, as if that explained everything.

“I don’t understand.”

“The Fortress is our primary lair. Our people come here when they feel the need of solitude, or time to heal. Others come to rest, or to mate. There is no hunting allowed within two hundred miles. As the Master of the Fortress and the leader of our people, Rodin is duty-bound to provide sustenance for those who take shelter here.”

Elena paused, fork in midair. “Sustenance?” She stared at Liliana in horror. “These people are food?”

“Do not look so shocked, my dear. We do not kill them.”

“But you feed on them?” Elena dropped her fork. It clattered loudly on the table, drawing more curious gazes from the other diners.

Liliana made a broad gesture with her hand. “As you can see, they are well cared for.”

“Are they free to leave here?”

Liliana sat up straighter, her expression suddenly hostile. “Please, finish your meal.”

“I’m not hungry. I want to see Drake.”

“I am afraid that is not possible at this time.”

“Why not? Where is he? What have you done to him?” Merciful heavens, had they killed him?

“He is being punished for his disobedience.”

Relief coursed through her. And then anger. “I’m his wife!” she exclaimed, rising. “I demand to see him. Now.”

It was obvious, from the set of Liliana’s jaw and the look in her eyes, that she wasn’t accustomed to being addressed in that tone of voice, especially with others looking on. She took several deep breaths and then rose gracefully to her feet. “Very well. Come with me.”

Feeling suddenly apprehensive, Elena followed Liliana up a narrow flight of stairs. She had expected to find a room of some kind when they reached the landing, but it only led to another flight of stairs and then another until they reached a squat wooden door. There was no visible latch on the door, yet it opened at the touch of Liliana’s hand.

Elena peered into the room, which was lit only by a narrow shaft of moonlight shining through a slit in the roof.

“Drake? Elena wishes to see you. Call me when she is ready to leave,” Liliana said, and pushed Elena into the room.

Elena stumbled forward into the darkness to be caught up in a pair of welcoming arms.

“Elena, what are you doing here?”

“Drake! Oh, Drake!” She collapsed against him, her face buried in the hollow of his shoulder. “We have to get out of here.”

He brushed a lock of hair from her forehead, then kissed her lightly. “I cannot go.”

“Why not?” She looked up at him, wishing she could see his face. “Why can’t we leave the same way we got here?”

“I am bound.”

“I don’t understand.”

He lifted one leg and she heard the rattle of chains. “Shackles,” he explained. “Only Rodin can free me.” He caressed her cheek. “I never should have brought you here. Never brought you into my life.”

“They feed on people.”

“He told you that?”

“I saw it. I saw them. The . . . the sheep.”

Taking off his coat, Drake spread it on the hard cement. “Come, sit down,” he urged, and sat beside her, his arm sliding around her shoulders to draw her close.

“Did you do that? Feed on those helpless people?”

“Years ago,” he admitted quietly. “When I was very young.”

“Your mother said they don’t kill them. Is that true?”

“Partly. Accidents happen when we are changing. Sometimes there is a loss of control.” There were those in the outside world who preferred to kill their prey. There was no law against it, as long as there were no bodies drained of blood left behind. Vampires who went rogue and became a danger to the Coven were destroyed. But he saw no need to tell Elena that, not now.

“Where do they come from?” she asked hesitantly. “The sheep?”

Drake’s gaze slid away from hers. This was another part of his existence he had hoped to keep hidden from her. “We raise them. They have never known any other life.”

Elena listened in mounting horror as he told her how the people she had seen in the dining hall were the descendants of three couples that Rodin had captured hundreds of years ago.

“As I said, they are rarely mistreated. They are well fed. They are taught to read and write by their parents. Here, in the Fortress, they are given books to read and other things to occupy their time. Some of them work in the kitchens. Others in the laundry. They live in dormitories in the basement—boys in one, girls in another—until they are old enough to mate, and then a select few are allowed rooms of their own.”

“But they’re prisoners. It’s wrong to keep people locked up for food, to breed them like . . . like . . .”

“Sheep?”

“Yes! How can you be a party to such a thing? It’s barbaric!”

“I never said I approved. It is one of the reasons I do not stay here. The reason I left in the first place.”

Elena frowned. If they raised the people for food . . . “Where are the children? The babies?”

“They are housed elsewhere until they are grown.”

“With their parents?”

“Yes, until they are sixteen, and then they come here.”

“But, the children? Are they always locked up? Do they ever get to go outside and play in the fresh air?”

“Elena . . .”

Her answer was there, in the tone of his voice.

Elena stared up at the sliver of sky visible through the roof, her heart aching for the people who were kept here against their will, for the children who would never know the freedom to run and play outdoors. These people deserved to be free, to live their own lives, to come and go as they pleased. She couldn’t begin to imagine how they must feel. And yet, Drake had said they had never known any other life. She thought of the homeless people her uncle had told her about when she complained that she wanted a new dress. He had told her to be thankful for what she had, that there were children who lived on the streets in the big cities who had to beg for their bread, men who had to steal to feed their families.

She shook her head. As terrible as that might be, she thought she would rather starve than spend her life in this place, to have no other purpose than to provide sustenance for vampires.

Drake’s arm tightened around her shoulders. “I cannot change it, Elena,” he said. “It has been our way for centuries. Were it not for the ready supply of blood that is here, Rodin’s people would be forced to prey upon those in the outside world.”