Chapter XVIII
Cassandra
With a full stomach and blood pumping through my veins, I finally feel satisfied, my body thrumming with energy and extraordinary strength. I can do anything.
I’m high on fresh human blood, and Izcacus leads me to the throne room, the double doors swinging open to reveal the domed ceiling.
With my palm in his hand as we walk, I admire the stained-glass windows that depict historic scenes.
Humans fighting each other with swords, past kings and queens, future rulers being born.
My eyes are drawn to a woman with long, black hair and eyes that shine so tragically it’s as if I can feel her sadness.
But before I can ask Izcacus about her, we reach the stairs that lead up to the throne.
It’s an opulent pedestal of black stone, with carvings of mythical beasts that climb either side before extending into towering points. The throne looks like a mini castle in itself.
With each step that I take as I ascend to the throne I feel energy pulsing around me, like the universe is telling me that this is my future to claim. That this is meant to be. The seat is unyielding beneath me, and pride shines in Izcacus’s eyes as I take what is mine.
“How do I look?” I ask him, flourishing my hands through the air, the attention making me feel giddy.
“Like a queen. I could not be more blessed.”
I roll my eyes at him despite my wide smile.
“And for my queen, I have a gift. Close your eyes, my love. I will be back.”
His voice is kind and sweet, so I close my eyes as he asks. The excitement builds as I wait. After a while, the anticipation becomes almost too much to bear, especially when I hear muffled screaming.
“You may open your eyes.”
My eyes shoot open, and I gasp in surprise at what lies at my feet.
A naked man tied up in ropes––there’s even a little bow.
As I start to say thank you, I pause, my eyes meeting the man’s before I realize.
I know him. It’s Dalton, one of Clayton’s closest friends.
A frown crosses my now stony face, and I look to Izcacus for answers. He grins victoriously.
“He was lurking near the castle with a knife while you were in slumber. Perhaps he thought that he could sneak in.”
My worst fears materialized. My fingers grip the marble armrest, the unnatural strength that I now possess damaging it, a resounding crack echoing in the cavernous room.
“Ungag his mouth,” I demand, keeping my voice steady despite the past that haunts me. Any euphoria I felt from the blood disappears as I face a harsh reality––my work has not been finished. I am not yet safe.
Dalton spits out the rope, and Izcacus hoists him upright. He kneels before me, his gaze piercing. Angry. Accusatory. “Fucken’ whore.”
All I see are shades of violent red. Dalton is Clayton, Clayton is Dalton. Every cruel memory echoes around me, and rage flares as I flash my pointed teeth at him with a low growl. Let him witness what I’ve become.
Disgust flashes across his face but I hold his stare, my tongue tracing the sharp points that would tear his flesh to pieces. With one bite, I could condemn him to hell. Satisfaction crosses my face, because underneath his false bravado is fear. I can smell it.
It helps to calm me, knowing that there’s nothing he can do. He will be dead by morning, and by my hand. Dalton is no more than a tiny, insignificant man who no longer holds any power. And this will be the fate of every man who thinks he can cross me.
Straightening my shoulders, I look down at him and smile politely, showing him that I am an unshakeable force. That I can be the queen Izcacus wants me to be.
“What are you doing here?” I ask saccharinely.
Dalton spits on the floor. “Comin’ to kill you. We know what you did to Clayton.”
“What did I do?” The words come out in a coy whisper, but I want to hear him say it. I want to know that Clayton’s gone and that I was the reason for it.
“You slaughtered him!” My smile grows wider as Dalton relives the moment. “He didn’t even look like himself. So many wounds…” He pauses, and I watch with delight as a faint sheen of green washes over his face. “You butchered him, and now we’re gonna do the same to you.”
My eyes drag up and down his restrained body. “A bit hard to do that when you’re bound.”
Dalton’s face mottles with shades of red.
I shrug lazily. “Too bad you’re going to die.”
Slowly, I rise from my throne. Each step down is slow. I want Dalton to see the inevitability of his doom. The fear will make his blood ripe. My tongue flicks out like a serpent. I can already taste how mouthwatering he will be.
As I stand before Dalton, I forcefully grip his cheeks together and he whimpers embarrassingly.
“Not so strong now,” I murmur. “You really are pathetic.”
My talons plunge into Dalton’s skin. His screams and cries for help are a delightful cacophony, and the smell of his pungent piss dripping to the floor causes me to laugh. Look how weak he is. It’s beautifully symbolic to inflict justice upon someone who thought themselves invincible.
My claws sink further into his flesh. Baring my fangs at him, I push deeper.
Blood spurts everywhere, the smell delicious, sweet like honeysuckles and berries.
My mouth salivates. There’s a loud crack, followed by a piercing wail of horror and distress as I snap through his chest cavity.
My eyes brighten with delight, watching the fear swim around in his own.
His scream splinters, and I grip his body with my free hand, forcing him to stay upright as he flickers in and out of consciousness.
My hands dig in, snapping ribs like twigs until I feel his heart racing beneath my palm.
His blood sings to me—heady, overwhelming as it bursts across my senses like a war drum. I’m high on the scent, consumed by a violent elation.
I look to Izcacus, finding that he’s wrapped his hands around his mammoth cock and is pumping rhythmically as he watches me with a dark gaze. My face splits into a deranged grin. I think I could like this.
With a furious grip, I rip out Dalton’s heart, watching it pump in my hand as his body crumples to the floor. It’s a mesmerizing sight. Blood drips through my fingers, the sound reverberating against the floor.
The organ squelches in my palm as I bring it to my lips. Izcacus groans in release while I savor the smell. I sink in my teeth, biting into the flesh, chewing through sinew. Warm blood spills down my chin as the chambers collapse while the arteries require more force to snap through the elasticity.
I don’t stop eating until I’ve devoured the heart of a man.
If I had been unsure of who I have become or what my purpose is in the world, I now know with sharp clarity.
I have become a devourer of men, the queen of monsters. This is my destiny.