The Drakaths
Jayce
I pick up one of the books that are sitting on the table beside me; these are the transcribed versions of the tomes. The cover is plain black with a subtle granite effect, featuring a bold white font that reads The Book of Immortals and is transcribed by Liam Westwood.
“What’s this?” she asks, taking it.
“These are the copies that are distributed among our allies,” I say.
“So, these are the versions with some parts omitted?” she asks curiously, her curls falling over her shoulder as she reaches for the book.
I raise a brow. “Not that it’s any of your business, but the majority of the books don’t have anything omitted, like this one.
So, you’re not missing out,” I say with a hint of arrogance, holding up my own, which is the original.
I had asked for the originals to be sent to me as I wanted to read through them all once more while I deal with the drakaths screaming down my fucking neck.
I feel ill. Although I know it’s not real, it’s taking a toll, and it’s as if I’m not fully here. They weren’t wrong. I’m not sure how much more of this I’ll be able to take.
But I don’t want that to be the solution – her marking me.
“Just asking. You really need to chill; I hear there are certain things that are excellent to cool one down,” she remarks with a small, dare I say it, smirk on her face.
“Hm, I’m sure there are, but how about you pay attention to the book in your hand and get researching,” I reply, refusing to play into her words.
There’s something about her that’s different… Is it a new change that came about recently? No… She had it before her dad died, a spark she lost when he died. It’s kinda sexy.
“Yes, Alpha,” she murmurs, and I hate how that fucking does something to me.
I frown, looking away and staring at the page, despising how she takes my focus.
She’s currently playing with a strand of her hair, her eyes fixed on the page.
Her glamour is on, but even if it’s supposed to dull her beauty, it fucking does nothing.
She’s still the most fucking gorgeous woman on the planet.
“Do you want to pay attention to the book in your hands?” she suggests with a mock innocent pout, proof that she caught me staring at her.
My eyes flash, brows furrowing as I glare at her. “I was just wondering why the fuck you’re here.” A soft laugh leaves her, and I’m ready to fucking snarl, but instead I clench my jaw and turn my attention back to my book.
The books that were transcribed by the others were ones that I had simply skimmed over. And especially those I didn’t think were relevant; maybe I should go through all the immortal species just in case – who knows what else may fucking show up.
“Hey, you two,” Grandma says as she pops her head into the lounge. “I’ll be out for a bit; there are some things I need to tend to. I’ve left the lasagne in the fridge. I’ll get one of the staff to pop it into the oven for lunch.”
“No need, I can do that,” Sienna offers.
Grandma looks between us. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, absolutely,” Sienna replies with a smile.
Grandma smiles slightly. “Well, I was thinking of getting Emma to make some chips on the side, if you wanted those.”
“I can manage that, too; you don’t need to worry about us.”
I frown. Stop making yourself comfortable; this isn’t your house, I say through the mind-link.
She ignores me as Grandma tells her where some stuff is. “Help yourself to anything; consider it your own house.”
Really, Grandma?
Sienna smiles. “Of course, thank you, Grandma Red,” she answers sweetly.
And stop calling her Grandma, I think. I frown as Grandma takes her leave. She’s had to take up certain duties that Mom used to do… The stabbing pain at the memory makes my annoyance wash away.
Once the door shuts after Grandma, the silence in the house is excruciatingly loud. I can hear the clock ticking and the sound of the birds outside.
I turn the page; even that sounds loud. Sienna sighs as she kicks off her shoes and tucks her legs under her, resting her elbow on the armrest of the sofa. The silence is almost unbearable when she begins humming softly.
That’s a tad better, until the drakaths’ snarls and shrieks return; I try to focus on her voice rather than them. I’m going to fucking lose my mind. I massage my temples, trying to focus.
“So, the drakaths were a people created by the god, Set,” Sienna’s voice breaks through my ringing ears.
I blink and look over at her. “Hm?”
She looks at me, a flicker of concern crossing her face. “It’s the drakaths, isn’t it?”
She knows the answer to that.
“Hm.” I don’t give a clear response.
“Can you not just sit next to me?” she asks.
“I could.” I stand up, refusing to look at her as I move from the armchair and drop onto the sofa beside her. She reaches over, placing her hand against my neck, just where the drakath was tearing into me, again and again.
A wave of reprieve washes over me as her touch forces the drakath to dull into nothing.
Fuck, that feels good…
I don’t realise I’ve closed my eyes until her knuckles brush down my neck, leaving a tantalising trail of sparks in their wake, and my eyes snap open.
“What were you saying?” I ask. Even though I know I should move away from her touch, I don’t.
“The drakaths, they were created by Set; he is a darker god, if memory serves,” she muses as she moves her hand away from my neck. I miss the feel of sanity and her touch, but I’m not about to say that.
I reach over to the original version of the Book of Gods and flick it open until I find a page and skim down it. She leans over my shoulder.
“Set… He’s the god of chaos, darkness, and destruction. He’s also the creator of vampires, known to be extremely manipulative,” she murmurs as she takes the book from me and scans the page.
I frown. “Wait, you can read it?”
She pauses, then looks down at the page and touches my mark on her neck as if just realising now. “I guess you marking me gave me that ability,” she whispers, sounding impressed.
“Mom and Grandma couldn’t,” I point out, frowning slightly.
“You are the Deimos King; you’re different from your father and grandfather,” she says, her fingers tenderly caressing the mark.
Stop that…
“Hm,” I say curtly, looking away as tension stretches between us.
She looks down at the page, clearing her throat. “So, the fact that the drakaths ended up where the vampire species reside can’t just be a coincidence, can it?” she asks.
“Perhaps not. That could have been a land that was once Set’s, making it easier for his species to survive there.”
“Maybe,” she murmurs. I look back at the book at the chapter about the drakaths when I come across a passage that catches my attention.
“The drakaths come from a Will that a goddess helped create, a Will that then birthed vessels – the drakaths. They are all extensions of the Will; they are not independent beings, despite being considered an immortal species. They do not procreate, as it is the Will who grants them life within the hive. They are extensions of the Will itself. When one dies, its memories simply return to the Will, and more are simply created to replace those that are lost.”
Sienna closes the book she’s holding, her fingers still tucked into the book, keeping her page as she turns her full attention to me. Something that I shouldn’t be noticing.
“So those cocoons we saw, those were how they were birthed, and that egg that everything was branching off, that was the Will,” she states slowly.
“Well done on figuring that out,” I say sarcastically. She rolls her eyes.
“Alright, smart guy, what else?”
I look down at the book. “They were a species that was meant to eliminate the vampires who had stepped away from their worship of Set. Unlike vampires who have their own ideals and thoughts, Set made sure the drakaths obeyed him and him alone.” I read.
“He controlled the Will, for the one who controls the Will creates the legions.”
“Do you think that means if we destroy the Will, it would destroy them all?” she murmurs.
I skim down the page, shaking my head. “I don’t know. There’s nothing on how to destroy them.” I skim through the next few pages, pausing when one word pops out. “Well, here’s an interesting bit.”
“What is it?” she asks.
“The drakaths had issues with the demons, but there’s nothing more, just that.” I frown, feeling a tad frustrated.
She purses her lips as she plays with a strand of her hair. “And both Ahren and I felt something near the dome, not to mention how our barriers looked like it. Maybe Ahren can find something. I’ll message him. Can I use your phone?”
I nod, passing it to her as I continue reading, waiting for her to finish texting.
“Their abilities… They drive their victims to madness,” I begin slowly, my finger tracing the line I’m reading, my vision blurring, and I’m struggling to focus.
“The wounds are not just simple wounds. They mark the victim. Once it touches them, it awakens a connection to the Will, which then begins to poison their mind, driving them to insanity. It doesn’t matter how strong they are; sooner or later, the poison and madness seep into every thought until they break. ”
She takes the book from me as if realising I’m struggling. “Most who are wounded by the drakaths die swiftly after losing their minds, not lasting beyond the first few hours of being inflicted, but for vampires it’s worse,” she reads.
She pauses as we both digest what we have just read before she continues.
“The curse was made for them. Their immortality keeps their bodies alive while the mind rots from the inside. They don’t die quickly; they linger, trapped in a slowly unravelling nightmare designed to erase their kind.
Their centuries of power all turn against them because that was Set’s purpose from the start.
To teach them that they belong to him. That he will make them yield, that he is the one who can take their lives. ”
I nod and look over at her as I tap the page lightly. “And according to these texts, the aim for the drakaths was to eliminate the entire vampire race.”
Sienna doesn’t say anything, nodding as she hugs the book to her chest, a small frown on her face. “Then the vampires need to move away from the Siberian Wastelands.”
I close the book, the snap loud in the silence, my mind heavy. The drakaths, the Will, the curse – it’s starting to make sense. They’re here for a reason, most likely to wipe out the vampire race; they are instruments of divine punishment.
“Yeah… It seems the vampires have been the intended target from the very beginning.”
She nods slowly. “But then one thing doesn’t make sense… Why did I have that dream? Why was the egg – the Will – calling to me? What part do I play in all of this?”
I stare at her, not having the answer to that, but seeing the worry in her eyes, I speak without thinking, my voice softer than it should be. “I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out, alright?”
She nods. “Alright.”