CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
37
Elara
Home. Finally.
I sighed, the tension leaving my shoulders as I pushed open the door.
“Mom?” I called out, my voice barely above a whisper. After a moment, I sighed, “I’m home,” and started wandering the familiar halls. The cavernous space echoed back the silence.
This separate building on Aric’s estate was a godsend.
Compared to the oppressive grandeur of the castle, it felt like a haven.
Here, I had my own room, a sanctuary from Aric’s constant presence. Though spacious, it wasn’t an ostentatious display of wealth like the castle. Aric, ever competitive, would probably throw a tantrum if it were.
Even with Mom and me here, the house felt strangely empty.
She was perpetually out on mysterious errands, leaving me to jump to my usual conclusions. Was she in Aric’s chamber, tangled in a web of her forbidden desires? It wouldn’t surprise me. Aric’s infatuation with Mom was no secret, and it served him well to keep her close.
No answer from Mom. Typical. At least I wouldn’t have to deal with her strained affection. We were never particularly close.
But today, a spark of genuine happiness flickered within me.
Gone was the suffocating weight of the magic-repelling bangle. Xulin, in a surprising turn of events, had removed it.
Never did I think the stoic vampire would loosen his grip on my power. But then again, we did have sex. My first time. A delicious shiver danced down my spine at the memory. Xul and I. Unbelievable. I never imagined losing my vampire virginity to the very Godmaster who kept me tethered.
I bit my lip, heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. My breath hitched, suddenly shallow and rapid. So this is it, the feeling. This is what it’s like to fall for the one person you never expected to love.
I love Xulin.
No. No fucking way.
But I did confessed my feelings which had been an act of sheer desperation, and thick with a yearning I barely understood.
Gods, the primal urge to feed… to taste his blood. He’d sated himself on mine. I was so close. So very close to surrendering completely, to becoming his as he’d become mine. Yet I held back, the precipice between possession and surrender a hair’s breadth away.
No, I hadn’t messed up. Not truly. I simply wasn’t ready. Ready for Xul to claim me, yes, but the thought of drinking his blood… the ancient pact I’d forged with myself, sworn never to succumb to that primal hunger… the very thought sent shivers down my spine.
No. I couldn’t. Not yet.
Inhaling a sharp breath, I dragged my gaze to my wrist. Bare. No longer the chilling reminder of my powerlessness.
A celebratory spin, a joyous outburst – these were the urges that clawed at me.
Regaining my abilities was a cause for elation, a truth I fiercely acknowledged.
Elara, breathe. Deep breaths, I silently commanded myself, drawing in another lungful of air.
Let’s take stock. No longer a blushing virgin – check. Utterly, ridiculously smitten with Xulin Vimic – double check. Powers gloriously restored – a resounding check! I practically vibrated with good fortune. Now, to cast a spell.
A playful glint ignited in my eyes. Perhaps a rainbow? A majestic unicorn? A snort escaped my lips. Unicorns were the stuff of children’s tales. Maybe a wisp of a cloud, or better yet, a disappearance spell. But where would I vanish to? Prince Aric’s castle held little appeal. A rebellious spark ignited within me. Lord Draven’s castle, Morwenna’s haven, beckoned. Mother’s stern warnings about venturing there were well-known, but frankly, I cared little for her disapproval at this moment.
My objective solidified: teleport to Lord Draven’s castle, reconnect with Morwenna. After the recent incident that’d previously happened, I needed to at least check up on her.
Okay, that’s where I’m teleporting to. I’ve already made up my mind.
Drawing in a fortifying breath, I muttered the arcane incantation, “Zantra murielis, vento dispera, ad locum desideratum,” and eyelids fluttered shut. In an instant, I felt the world tilt.
I knew I had successfully cast the spell because I didn’t smell the familiar cloying scent of witches’ dust around me.
That meant I was in Lord Draven’s castle. Finally. I had managed to cast a proper vanishing spell. A triumphant smile bloomed on my face, only to wilt faster than a desert flower under the harsh desert sun.
“Elara!” A voice boomed, shattering the fragile bubble of my elation. My eyes snapped open. Damn it all. After years of sneaking into Mother’s spellwork lessons, you’d think I’d have mastered a simple teleportation. Apparently, my magical aptitude remained stubbornly elusive. Or perhaps, fate had a cruel sense of humor, depositing me not in Lord Draven’s brooding fortress, but in the heart of Prince Aric’s decadent manor.
A low groan escaped my lips . “Oh, for goodness sake.” There it was – the familiar tableau of Prince Aric’s debauchery.
Aric sprawled indolently on his throne, legs sprawled wide.
A gaggle of servants, clad in diaphanous blue gowns – his house color, naturally – stood flanking him.
The one closest held a tray, upon which sat a cerulean Vimic heirloom jug. Even the servants were color-coordinated in this farce of a court.
The woman’s head dipped subserviently as another servant, kneeling before the prince, performed a task that would make a lesser woman blush.
This wasn’t a novelty. Witnessing Aric’s insatiable appetite firsthand, with multiple Chimerans no less, was a nauseating experience I’d endured countless times. It was simply who he was – the Prince of Lust personified – and no amount of wishing would alter that reality. The same, unfortunately, could be said for his brothers.
My throat tightened as I stammered, “I, uh, was just leaving. Yeah. That’s right, leaving.” I shuffled back a step, heart hammering in my chest, just as Prince Aric spoke.
“Elara, I was just about to send for you!” Aric declared.
I dipped my head in a show of respect. He was a prince, after all, and the Prince of Lust at that. “Well, what a coincidence,” I murmured, forcing a light tone. “Here I am, Prince Aric.”
“I wanted to discuss something important...” He trailed off, and a familiar shiver ran down my spine. Aric’s idea of “important” rarely aligned with mine, but I listened dutifully. “...something my brothers have been discussing.” Important? Now I truly feared what the Brothers of Sin were up to. “...and you’re the only one I wanted to share it with, considering your mother’s absence.”
Curiosity gnawed at me. Aric usually confided in my mother when he needed someone or something bothered him. I was rarely his confidante, considering the frequent visits I paid Lord Draven’s castle compared to his own.
“I’m all ears,” I said, my voice clipped. I needed to project sincerity so Aric wouldn’t suspect. “Prince Aric,” I added with forced respect, keeping my head bowed. Looking at him was out of the question, not with the lingering image of him…well, let’s just say his current activities with a servant weren’t exactly appropriate for me to watch.
“Do you recall the incident at my brother’s estate?” Aric began, his voice initially relaxed, though I doubted it would stay that way for long.
“You mean Lord Draven,” I drawled. “Yes, I do recall the incident that occurred there.” The memory of that...incident is etched rather prominently in my mind, thanks to the Brothers of Sin’s incessant chatter. Now, a thought slithers into my mind. Is this what Aric wanted to discuss about? The incident that occured at Lord Draven’s estate?
“Well, brothers and I have reached a consensus,” Aric began, his onyx eyes glinting with a newfound resolve. “It’s time we take a step forward in doing whatever we want as... vampires.”
A step forward? What is Prince Aric implying? My head snapped up to see Aric stroking his thumb against his fingers. My brow furrowed in confusion.
Aric, sensing my bewilderment, elaborated with a languid stroke of his thumb against his fingers. “What I mean is that we must strike. We’ve dwelled in the shadows for far too long. The time has come to claim what yearns within us most…” A pregnant pause hung heavy in the air. “Blood.”
So, this was the grand plan the Brothers of Sin had been whispering about? Did Xul even suspect their intentions?
“But Prince Aric,” I countered, my voice laced with concern, “such an act would shatter the seven-hundred-year truce that binds humans and vampires.”
A snarl twisted his features. “Who gives a damn about some archaic pact, Elara?”
My temper flared for a fleeting moment. “I do,” I snapped, then quickly reined myself in. “What I meant to say, Prince Aric, is that resorting to violence is not the answer. The truce has endured for a reason, my lord. Breaking it would be a direct challenge to the authority of Lord Draven, a move fraught with consequences.”
“Elara read me,” he drawled, the nonchalance on his lips a stark contrast to the raw intensity in his eyes. “I. Do. Not. Care.”
I gritted my teeth. “But that’s against the law.”
His response was a guttural snarl. “The law be damned!” The words ripped through the throne room, sending shivers down my spine. There was a flicker of something in his gaze – hatred, hunger – a cocktail I knew all too well.
Law. It was the fragile tether that bound humans, vampires, witches, and the like. A safeguard against anarchy. Aric Vimic, for all his flaws, used to respect it. Until now. Until his power-hungry brothers, like insidious whispers, had twisted his resolve.
Any creature who broke the law faced a terrifying consequence: the Lake of Fire, their greatest fear and torment.
The weight of his transgression seemed to settle on Aric’s shoulders. He clamped his jaw shut, a thin line forming on his lips. His hand reached out, not for me, but for the blonde servant kneeling before him, currently mid-ministration.
Her small frame flinched as he yanked her hair with a ferocity that left me breathless.
With a vampire’s inhuman speed, he flung her aside, her body crumpling to the floor like a discarded doll.
He then stood up from his throne, slipping his dick back into his pants.
I tried not to look. I tried not to look. And I tried not to look.
Then, back to the immediate crisis. The servant scrambled back to her kneeling position, head bowed in submission, exposing a sliver of her pale neck.
There, etched upon the flesh, was the unmistakable mark – a bite mark, glistening with a crimson stain. Did Aric do this? Of course, he did. He’s breaking the one rule: never drink human blood. And now he has drank from the blood of his human servant.
Even though I felt the urge to bite and drink from her, I knew I had to swallow my desire and control myself, which was incredibly hard. Very hard.
I maintained my distance, so I didn’t have to smell the tang of blood and the scent of Aric’s essence, which now intertwined and lingered in the air.
Aric stood before me, his voice a low growl, eyes blazing with a fury that mirrored the inferno in his words. Disgust radiated from Aric as he rose to his full height, his icy glare fixated on me.
“For millennia,” he spat, his voice laced with venom, “I’ve abided by Draven’s every whim, honoring his so-called ‘wishes’ like the loyal lapdog he expects his brothers to be. No complaints, only unwavering obedience. Why? Because he’s the eldest, burdened with the pompous title of ‘Lord’ that inflates his ego beyond recognition. He fancies himself the embodiment of power, the almighty ruler of the Seven Sins. Does he offer that same courtesy in return? Respect his brothers’ wishes? Of course not. Why? Because he operates by his own twisted code, a dictator fueled by vengeance and a thirst for power. Yet, he expects his brothers to remain powerless, easily manipulated pawns in his twisted game. The weaker we are, the tighter his grip becomes.”
His gaze pinned me like a butterfly to a board, the intensity scorching. “Why, Elara,” he hissed, his voice dropping to a dangerous low, “should I continue to submit to his tyranny? His laws are nothing but instruments of control.”
Whether his question demanded an answer hung heavy in the air. Truthfully, I was at a loss. The raw hatred and envy simmering beneath Aric’s fury offered little room for reason.
Mother had once confided in me about Draven’s isolation. After their mother’s brutal betrayal by his own power-hungry uncles, their father instilled a singular purpose in Draven: to reclaim their birthright, to become not just a king, but a legend – the ‘Lord,’ the ‘Almighty,’ a title surpassing all others. Draven’s distance was a fortress built from fear, a shield against the very siblings poised to strike him down as they had his mother.
This, in turn, fueled a simmering resentment in his brothers, a bitter cocktail of jealousy and fury.
Draven held the reins of power, not just over the estate but over Chimera City, the haven for mundanes and other living creatures alike. It was a potent brew for animosity, and Aric was no exception.
With such potent hatred swirling within him, how could I possibly reach him? Aric was a storm on the verge of unleashing its fury, and I feared my words would be lost in the howling wind.
When Prince Aric got no response from me, he spoke, “Don’t you crave it, Elara? Not that synthetic swill the coven witches whip up, but the real thing. The kind that thrums with life, hot and sweet in the veins of those pathetic mortals....” His hand snaked out, fingers twisting in the blonde servant girl’s hair. A yelp escaped her lips as he yanked her to her feet, her face contorted in pain. Aric remained oblivious, his gaze fixed on me as he continued, “Blood holds power, Elara. It holds joy, it holds attitude, it holds wisdom, it holds...” He dipped his head, his lips hovering over the servant girl’s exposed neck. Her head tilted back in morbid resignation, a silent offering.
Then, a flash of fangs, a sickening wet gurgle. Bile rose in my throat as I watched him drain her, his thirst a bottomless pit.
He finally pulled back, a languid smile playing on his lips. “...Satisfaction,” he finished, his voice thick with satiety.
Aric was right. Real blood, that forbidden nectar, was an intoxicating lure, a siren song for every vampire, even demons. It whispered promises of power, a primal high that transcended reason. But unlike them, I had a choice.
A war raged within me. My fangs throbbed, a dull ache that pulsed with every beat of my heart. The memory of raw power, the heady rush of stealing life, surged through me. I could be whole again, strong, invincible.
No. I squeezed my eyes shut, the image of the terrified servant girl a stark reminder. I had rejected my vampire lineage and embraced my witch roots. So no blood. I just needed to cast the spell I used to resist the lure of blood. It was hard but is worth it.
“We don’t feed on humans,” I said, the words a mantra, a shield against the darkness threatening to consume me. “We have artificial blood, Prince Aric, and each sip is capable of quenching the thirst of every vampire.”
A groan rumbled from his throat. He ran a tongue across his blood-stained lips, the gesture both predatory and oddly sensual. My stomach twisted.
This was my path, my burden. To exist on the precipice, forever teetering between the witch I was becoming and the monster I could never be again.
“Unbelievable,” Prince Aric spat, the word a viper escaping his lips. “You choose weakness over power?”
He scoffed, releasing the blonde servant with a careless flick of his wrist. She crumpled to the floor, a fragile doll drained of its lifeblood. A stark reminder of the consequences humans faced when their essence, their very life force, was siphoned away. Weakness, then death.
I met his gaze unflinchingly. “No, my prince. It’s obedience over a power I know to be a fool’s game. Disobeying the ancient laws that bind our kind leads only to punishment. There are consequences for every transgression, even for a prince.”
Aric’s jaw clenched. “Draven broke the law! He defied the council with barely a whisper of dissent, and what punishment did he face? Nothing. He’s Lord Vorn, the almighty ruler of the Vimics, isn’t he?” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “Apparently, the laws don’t apply to those with lofty titles.”
A knot of frustration tightened in my stomach. Aric, ever impulsive, was proving uncharacteristically difficult to sway. Even my usual methods of gentle persuasion seemed to be failing. A silent curse slipped through my mind. This wasn’t good.
“So, why must I be held accountable when my own brother walks free?” Aric demanded, his voice rising. “Is that fair, Elara? Tell me, is it?”
The question hung heavy in the air. It was undeniably unfair, a truth I acknowledged silently. To voice agreement would be seen as support for his reckless plan – a plan that, while undeniably tempting, held the potential for utter disaster.
Silence stretched between us, thick and heavy. Aric’s eyes narrowed. “So, Elara Vance,” he began, his voice a low growl, “the woman I shower with gifts and avoid laying a hand upon… solely because she belongs to my brother.”
The possessive barb sent a shiver down my spine. I knew where this was headed, the veiled threat disguised as affection. “…are you with me or against me?” he finished, his voice a challenge.
Here it was. The inevitable moment he’d cornered me into.
My silence, a strategy in the past, had become a miscalculation.
He craved a declaration, a confirmation of loyalty.
And now, I was caught in the crossfire of his ambition.
Pick sides, pick sides, pick sides. Who who’s am I going to fucking pick?
The implications of each choice were as heavy as a vampire’s coffin.
Aligning myself with Prince Aric Vimic, Brother of Lust, meant endorsing his treacherous plot. A rebellion that would shatter the fragile peace pact between humans and vampires, a pact drenched in the blood of countless battles.
Opposing him… well, the consequences remained shrouded, though the glint in Aric’s eyes promised something far from pleasant.
Supporting his schemes was unthinkable.
Choosing sides felt like a betrayal of the fragile harmony I held so dear.
But peace wasn’t a luxury; it was the lifeblood of this precarious world. I’d witnessed firsthand the utopia Xulin, the all-welcoming vampire, had created. Creatures of all walks – witches, fairies, demons – thrived under his benevolent rule. Xulin wouldn’t endorse such chaos. At least, that’s the faith I desperately clunged to.
So it’s peace. It had to be peace.
“I’m against you,” I declared, my voice firm despite the tremor in my heart. “Prince Aric,” I added, a touch of respect lacing my defiance. I’d seen the flicker of admiration he held for Lord Draven, and I knew the insidious whispers of his brothers would only lead to his downfall. That. That’s what I wanted him to see, the light in my words.
“There’s still time to turn back,” I pressed, hoping my words would pierce the veil of his anger. “Yes, there’s resentment towards Lord Draven, but this path...millions will perish. You wouldn’t want that, would you, Prince? A fate worse than death, or even the endless torment of the Lake of Fire. You’re my master, my Prince, and I wouldn’t wish such a fate on you. Please, reconsider.” I made sure my voice was convincing enough. I hoped.
Silence. A heavy, pregnant silence that stretched on, taut as a drawn bowstring. Had my words reached him? The gods only knew.
Just as I prepared to launch into another impassioned plea, his voice, a low rumble, sliced through the storm of words I was about to say.
“Go!” His voice was a tightly leashed command.
Go? Had he just dismissed me? This was unprecedented. Aric had only ever dismissed me playfully, and even then, sparingly. This was different. This was final. It hammered home the chilling reality - he truly intended to defy his brother.
Shock rendered me immobile, a statue sculpted from bewilderment. Every instinct screamed to flee, yet I remained rooted to the spot, a puppet with severed strings.
“Elara, haven’t I made myself clear? I said go. This isn’t a jest.” His voice cut like a whip, laced with a harshness I’d never heard before. “I. Do. Not. Require. Your. Presence. Anymore.”
“But—”
Aric cut me off, his eyes flashing with a storm of conflicting emotions. “You were more than a servant, Elara. I considered you a friend, a confidante. Someone whose counsel, even if it was simply agreement, I valued. Someone I could trust with my thoughts, my burdens, unlike my brothers.” His voice softened a fraction. “I never burdened you with menial tasks. You were special, Elara. Very special. Almost as dear to me as Emilia, but where she offered unwavering loyalty, you provided honesty. A true friend, I believed, would stand by me, support my decisions, especially when my brother is so clearly in the wrong. But if you cannot see that, Elara, then…” He faltered, his gaze flickering away from mine. “I cannot… completely sever ties. You are precious to Xulin, and I respect the Godmaster immensely. However, I can only ask you to stay in your lane. As far away from me as possible. I do not wish to see you, hear from you, or even sense your presence near me ever again.” His voice softened a fraction. “Go, Elara. Please.”
Hesitantly, I took a single step back. This wasn’t a mere dismissal; it was an ostracization.
In Aric’s world, this decree went far beyond a simple separation.
It meant that if our paths ever crossed by happenstance, I was to vanish into thin air, perhaps with the aid of an illusion spell or a concealing fog. It meant absolute silence; no greeting, no acknowledgment, not a single word to pierce the deafening void he sought to create.
I never knew Aric had considered me a friend, but we had joked around a few times and shared funny secrets. Now, that fragile bond lay shattered. The only path to mend it, I realized, was to abandon my convictions and pledge myself to his cause. But that, I refused.
My resolve solidified. I wouldn’t back down.
I stood against him. Not for him, but for peace and I wished he could see that. The lives of millions hung in the balance, and I refused to be swayed by a misplaced sense of obligation.
I would not sacrifice peace on the altar of misplaced loyalty.
No, Aric. I would stand against you.
“Leave!” Prince Aric’s boomed which caused a tremor to run through the palace. Even the servants flinched, their movements betraying a well-honed fear.
Taking a steadying breath, I delved deep within, resurrecting a forgotten incantation from the dusty corners of my memory. Please, let it work. A silent plea rose to the heavens, answered by a surge of power that hummed beneath my skin.
The opulent surroundings began to dissolve, consumed by a swirling black fog that engulfed everything and everyone within.
It was agonizingly slow, a suffocating descent into the unknown.
Yet, with a final, shuddering breath, the castle – and its inhabitants – dissolved into wisps of black smoke. Silence. Then, in a blink, the fog dissipated, leaving me standing in a completely foreign environment.
Home. My stomach clenched with a familiar ache.
“Poor Aric,” I sighed, the echo of his arrogance still stinging in my memory. To be manipulated by his power-hungry brothers…it was a tragedy in the making.
This wasn’t a secret I could keep bottled up. Xul needed to know. Normally, I thrived on solitude. But this…this was too big.
For the first time, the weight of responsibility felt crushing.
For the first time, I wasn’t alone anymore.
Now, I was inextricably bound to the one person I craved, the one person who both terrified and exhilarated me – Godmaster Xulin.