The first thing they did was hit Knight with a dart. He slumped against me, still conscious but he could barely move. Two large Lycans came up to us, shoved me aside, and picked Knight off the ground. They still had a wary attitude towards him, the unknown element amongst their pack.
“I really wish I was wearing some fucking pants,” he said weakly, giving me a slight smile. I wasn’t complaining. The only thing I hated was now all of our attackers would see his erection. One of the Hunters grabbed my arm and made me stand. Our two species stood on either side of the little clearing Knight and I had been sitting in. I watched as one of the Lycans helped Knight put on some shorts to cover himself.
“You kissed a fucking Lycan?” the Hunter holding my arm said, clearly ranking that with eating a rotting maggot. “I’d execute you myself for that if I could.”
Arthur came up to us and bitchslapped her on the face. Damn, he was a cunt. “Your judgment means nothing, Cassandra. As revolting as kissing a Lycan is, it’s not against the law.”
“It should be,” Cassandra whispered in defiance. Arthur gave her a warning look, silently asking if she wanted another slap, as he locked my wrists in irons and chains. Olivier replaced Cassandra on the arm grabbing, except her grip on my bicep wasn’t so tight. Knight was still hanging limply between his captors.
“Please don’t hurt him,” I pleaded with the Alpha of the pack, a blonde rugged man.
The Alpha looked me over, his face displaying a small amount of the disgust the Hunters were feeling over me kissing a Lycan. “He’s a Primal werewolf. It’s too dangerous to let him live.”
“He’s not dangerous,” I told the Alpha, pleading for the man I loved. “I watched him. He only attacked to protect himself. Don’t kill him just because he’s different.”
“Enough,” Arthur declared sharply. “We’ve lingered here for too long. The Order is waiting.” Arthur reached for the arm Olivier wasn’t holding, but she pulled me away.
“Let her say goodbye,” she said firmly to Arthur. He sighed and nodded to her with respect. “Be quick,” she told me.
Knight lifted his head to look at me and smiled weakly. “Remember your promise, Lis.” Stay strong. Stay strong for him.
“I love you.” My voice wobbled and I held back the tears that wanted to overwhelm me. I’d never meant anything more in my life. I loved him. I would always love him.
His smile deepened, and he stared at me with love and respect, in honor of everything. The pain, the struggles, the laughter, and the passion. “I love you, Lis.”
Arthur stepped forward, grabbed me, and slung me over his shoulder. As he and the Hunters walked in the other direction, my eyes didn’t leave Knight’s face until I couldn’t see him anymore.
I pushed out my senses and focused on him so hard I could feel his mind inside my own. He gasped at the sensation, and when he could catch his breath, he said one thing to me.
“I’ll find you again.”
I snapped back into my own head and felt my blood reserves fade away as I lost consciousness, taking away the only thing I had left of him.
Child of the Outcast
Born Vampire, Book two
NSFW Edition
1. Dead inside
I‘d never felt such agony. Pure, debilitating agony.
That’s what awaited me as Arthur dragged my lifeless body into the doors of the castle, past my peers who gave me more than a passing glance with their fucking judgy faces, and to a halting stop at the staircase. I was so goddamn numb. Dead inside with grief, and so removed I didn’t even give a fuck that the other vampires were whispering and staring at me. What did it matter? I didn’t have the strength to feel shame.
I waited for the tug from Arthur at my bound wrists. He wasn’t gentle. The skin under my binds was an angry red. If I was a human, there would be no skin left. I needed blood to heal, but since I had become his captive the week before, he gave me no more than a mouthful of gross bagged blood every morning. Any strength I’d had from it was slowly ebbing away like a fading tide.
“What have you done to her?” I heard Othello’s indignant tone across the room where Arthur stood with him.
“She’s a prisoner of the Council,” Arthur’s scratchy voice explained. “Her treatment isn’t your concern.”
Knight’s beautiful perfect face washed before my eyes and I felt the sting of tears. Was he dead? Had they already judged him without first making sure he was as violent as they thought he was? Had he even been given a chance to plead for his own fucking life? I couldn’t picture his eyes dimming and his body going still. A small sliver of his lifeless corpse slipped into my mind and I felt my sanity fading away.
“What have they done to you?” Othello said again, this time much closer to my ears. I glanced upwards and barely registered that he was standing in front of me. He stunk of dead flowers, as usual. Gag.
“They took him,” I murmured in a broken tone, and a sob escaped my lips. “They let him be taken away to die.”
“Who, my pet?” He lifted a hand to stroke my hair but I shied away from him. “What is she talking about, Arthur?” he demanded.
Arthur didn’t answer, probably deeming the information unnecessary. “Has the Council arrived?” he asked instead.
“Yes, they’re all here. And they’ve begun the discussion of guilt.”
Good. The sooner they decided my fate the better. I hoped they picked to execute me. I wanted to die. If Knight was dead, I wanted to die. Being banished would just mean I’d have to do it myself.
The conversation over, Arthur grabbed my restraints and started pulling me up the stairs. I stumbled several times as I wasn’t focused on anything except my internal turmoil. Not even caring about me, he dragged me up the staircase and the restraints on my hand started cutting into my skin, dropping blood on the carpet. I caught my footing at the landing and followed Arthur down the dark red-carpeted hallway.
“You really know how to treat a gal,” I mumbled halfway down the hall. He glanced at me and saw the blood coming from my wrists.
“You’re a prisoner,” he said evenly, uncaring with his stupid apathetic fuck face.
“And you’re a bag of dicks,” I retorted. “Funny how you have zero humanity. I bet you came out of your mother’s womb and said, ‘Hey mom, you deserved all that labor pain. Fuck you.’” Maybe the pain was talking, or I needed to vent my anger. I knew how rude I was being, and I didn’t give a shit.
“If you were any other prisoner, I’d…” His jaw clenched, holding in the rest of the sentence.
“You’d what?” I stepped faster to catch up with him. “You’d slap me? Beat me? You’ve already proven you don’t care about anyone but yourself.” I tugged on my chains until he stopped walking. “How did they know where to find him? How, Arthur? Was it you? Did you tell the Lycans? Tipped them off for a sweet little payoff?”
“It wasn’t like that,” he ground out.
“You turned him in, you bastard. He did nothing to you and you turned him in.” He tried to move forward but I held tightly and more blood dripped from my bonds.
“He was dangerous.”
I tugged again and again. The scent of blood was filling the air. “You didn’t fucking know that. The Council ordered you to find me, not him. You decided to turn Knight in, because you hate everything. You could’ve just let him go, but why the fuck would you want to do that?”
That icy blue stare turned to me, and he unclenched his jaw enough to speak. “He was dangerous,” Arthur repeated.
Pulling on the chain, I moved closer to my captor until we were almost chest to chest. I could smell him and it made me sick. My purple eyes glared at his cold chiseled face.
“I’m dangerous,” I informed him.
He looked away and without me holding him back, he continued walking down the hall. When he stopped again, he unlocked a familiar door and unlocked my chains before shoving me inside and slamming the door in my face. I placed a hand on the white wood of
the door. The lock had been changed and the security chains removed. This door no longer locked from the inside.
I was a prisoner. A prisoner in my own rooms.
All my hatred and rage settled on the figure outside of my door. I pressed my mouth to the crack between the frame.
“You killed him and you didn’t have to. Never forget that.” My legs slowly folded and I slumped against the door in a broken heap.
I had become a criminal for sparing a child’s life. A Lycan child, but still a child. Even now, after all that had happened, I didn’t regret what I’d done. My only regret was that Knight would be killed for my mistakes. The solitude constantly reminded me that Knight was probably dead by now, and my sorrow slowly carved out a deep well of emotion I couldn’t climb out of.
I didn’t move from my spot at the door for hours. Every movement outside my door made me jump, waiting for Arthur to burst in and drag me back downstairs for sentencing. He never did. Was he sitting on the floor too, or did he get a chair for his psycho ass? Maybe he should put up a tent so we wouldn’t have to look at his bitch face.
The second day was harder. I slept by the door and woke up cramped and hungry. My wrists were still damaged, the skin peeling in some areas. I could barely feel the pain but it was making me so thirsty.
At 8 am on the dot, Arthur opened the door and tossed in a bag of blood like I was an animal in a cage. He quickly shut it again and locked it. Outside the door, I heard him talking to whoever had brought the blood. I was too thirsty to pay attention and dove for the bag, tearing into it and slurping up every drop the plastic had to offer. As soon as the blood hit my stomach, I felt a wave of nausea and then my wrists started to heal. Losing blood to fix the injury made me thirstier than I was before. Prisoners didn’t deserve a companion, I guessed. My muscle mass was already receding. Living on Knight’s blood had made me the strongest I’d ever been. Now I felt weak and helpless.
I slid the empty blood bag under the door and lay spread eagle on the entryway carpet, staring up at the vaulted ceiling. No popcorn ceilings in this castle, no sir. Everything was perfection. It was all a façade. A lie. A smoke screen to make you think we lived a perfect immortal life.
I hated this castle, and everything it represented. It represented a society that outcast me for sparing a child. A society that sent a Hunter after me who thought killing my boyfriend was okay.
Sweet, beautiful Knight. I’ll never see your face again.
The door opened again and Arthur stood with a tray of food. I looked up at him from the carpet and lifted my middle finger for his appraisal. He laid the tray down next to me and shut the door again, flipping the locks like they owed him money. Without getting up, I felt at the tray’s contents with my fingers and lifted bite after bite of eggs, bacon, and biscuits to my mouth until it was empty.
The passage of time barely registered and it seemed like I’d just eaten breakfast when Arthur opened the door again. He picked up the empty tray and replaced it with one that had my lunch on it. His job done, he stood in the doorway watching me. I was still staring up at the ceiling. I wasn’t in the mood to look at him.
“If you ask if I’m okay, I swear to god, I will stab you with a pencil,” I spat in his direction.
“Your wellbeing is inconsequential.” I scoffed out a laugh. “I am, however, tasked with making sure you stay alive until your trial.”
That made me look over at him. “Trial? Oh, isn’t that fancy. I get a trial. Is it a trial by fire? That would be perfect. I plan on going up in flames any way.”
“As I said, I am tasked with keeping you alive.” He dipped his chin at me and I understood what he was getting at.
“Ahh. Wouldn’t want me killing myself before you can execute me. Cute. Didn’t know you cared.” I looked down at the tray and saw it was a bowl of chili with enough peppers to kill your taste buds. I pushed it towards his foot and turned away again.
“Eat,” he commanded, toeing the food my way. Some of the chili spilled out onto the tray.
“I don’t like peppers. If I am to have any sort of freedom, I will not eat what I don’t enjoy. You can eat it, I don’t care. Now go away.”
Bending, he took the tray and left, and I was free again to get lost in my musings. When I wasn’t picturing Knight’s dead body, I relived every moment of my time under James’s control. How he’d held me close to him and I’d felt so fucking helpless. I’d never let anyone make me feel that way again. And sweet Sara. During my blood binge, I had become her abuser, ordering her around like a servant. I felt like a traitor. I’d fought so hard to protect humans and I’d mistreated one. I hoped she could forgive me for my abuse.
Days were marked only by the sunlight returning after darkness. I was beginning to creep up to the edges of my sanity. How long would I be in here waiting? I’d never been a patient person, and this tested every bit of resolve I had. I just had to wait it out. Soon, any day now, Arthur would come to get me, and the Council would find me guilty. I had to hold onto that hope.
The carpet was my only friend. If I moved away from the door, I wouldn’t be able to hear anything outside. Days passed, and the only interruption from the ceiling was Arthur bringing blood and food, and the occasional trip to the bathroom.
I’d cried so many times, I could no longer cry. I simply lay there, thinking about Knight dying because of me. He didn’t deserve any of this.
“How long has it been?” I asked when Arthur emerged again, holding a dinner tray that he set beside me.
“Two weeks,” he answered. Fuck. Two weeks already. What was taking so damn long? “You smell rank. I suggest a shower before you start merging with the carpet.”
“If we’re on the subject of rankness, you haven’t showered in two weeks either. Don’t think I can’t smell it. The stink has been creeping under the door for days.”
He was gone before I could start throwing my food at him. He’d learned early on that I cared more about making him suffer than eating, plus I had a good throwing arm, and seeing him with a canned peach on his face was hilarious. Annoyingly, he was right though. I smelled bad. It was time to leave the carpet.
I got up, stretched, and took a two hour bath. Maybe the water would wash away more than dead skin and carpet fibers. Finally clean, I put on a robe and wandered around from room to room. I stood in Cameron’s old room, and seeing it empty made me feel even worse. I pressed my face into the carpet, hoping against hope I could catch his scent just so I could feel better for a few seconds. Alas, the carpet had been shampooed after he moved out, and no trace scent remained.
Was he happy?
Cameron deserved a full and happy life. I wanted it for him more than I wanted almost anything else, beyond to see Knight again, and maybe sucker punch James a few times. I didn’t expect happiness in my life again, so I wanted it for Cameron that much more.
If he was living a good life, I could find a little bit of comfort.
2. A crappy jailer
The days were beginning to blur together. The only marker of time passing was the consistent supply of bagged blood every morning, and the trays of food. I often wondered if Arthur should just install a doggie door to slip the food and blood into, so then he would never have to unlock my door. At least my cell was nicely decorated and had working plumbing. It was achingly lonely being in solitary confinement. Even someone like me, who didn’t thrive on social interaction, was hitting my limit. I would’ve traded my blood ration for the chance to see someone other than my own reflection and Arthur’s stupid face.
I wasn’t the type to talk to myself, so I didn’t even have myself to interact with. The silence was noisier than a busy sidewalk. Arthur, the ass, had taken my phone, and with it my music, so I couldn’t immerse myself in Copeland or Tchaikovsky. I couldn’t sing along with Gershwin or show tune it up with Sondheim. He might as well have taken all my books away. I did at least have those to escape into, and it was quite literally the only comfort I had once I stopped lying on
the carpet. With nothing else to do, I went through at least two or three books a day, diving into Narnia and building the pyramids brick by brick.
I still sat by the door while I read. I was never far away from it. When I’d read through a nice chunk of my very large book collection, I decided to take action. Was I truly without rights? I wrote up a note of things I’d like to be purchased with my credit card and quickly slipped it under the door around the time I knew Arthur would be giving me my bag of blood.
He slipped it back under, because of course he would.
“Ass,” I complained to the door.
“I’m not buying you makeup,” he retorted. Oh, so he could actually hear me. He’d just been choosing to ignore me this entire time. He was such a bag of dicks.
“You didn’t even look at the list, butt face. I want new books to read, I’m almost out of shampoo, and I can’t do my laundry in here. Is your prisoner supposed to run out of clean underwear?”
He sighed and I heard him scratching at his face. “Fine. Slip it back under.” I did, and listened to him opening the paper. “You put ‘I’ll pay 1,000 euros if someone will strangle Arthur’ on the second page.”
“Feel free to post that around the castle,” I said sweetly.
“You really want to live without clean underwear, don’t you?” He shoved the note back without my credit card. Great. He’d probably run up my bill buying porn and hookers.
I laid down on one of my couches and fell asleep. Lilacs drifted into my dreams. The scent woke me up and I saw Balthazar sitting at my feet. I sat up and fell into his arms. As I held him to me, I realized I needed him now more than ever.
“Don’t leave,” I begged him, clutching him close. “I’m so fucking alone. Please don’t leave.”
I could feel him smile against my shoulder. “You don’t want me here all the time, pet. It would get very boring.”
The Born Vampire series: A Reverse Harem Paranormal Romance (The Complete Series, NSFW Edition) Page 18