"Well, look what we have here. A doll, aren't you?" His low, rough voice, carrying a cruel amusement, echoed in the hallway.
My heart thudded, feeling the hard pressure on my neck, and I felt I was about to be strangled. I couldn't move my neck.
"I-I'm not—" I tried to speak, but my voice caught in my throat.
His red eyes sparkled with malice, and the corners of his lips curved into a smile that made my stomach twist.
Had I escaped the claws of werewolves just to get strangled to death by a crazy vampire?
My back was pressed against the cold wall. My hands shook as I voiced out with every energy left in me, "P-please, I don't want trouble," I whispered.
"Trouble?" His grin widened, revealing sharp teeth that glinted in the dim light. "Oh, my dear, you are the trouble."
He leaned closer, his breath cold against my skin, and I could feel the faint hiss of his words wrapping around me.
"You know," he whispered, tilting his head, savouring the sight of me whimpering and struggling, "when I first saw you walk in, I was instantly stunned by your beauty. Then I smiled at you, but you ignored me…."
His hand tightened on my throat, gritting his teeth. "And I hate when weak creatures like you humans ignore me."
All I had wanted was to survive during the dinner and keep my head down. How could I have known that trying to survive would only make things worse?
His lips curled into something darker. "Or do you simply think you're important because you've become the king's bride?"
I shook my head frantically, tears stinging my eyes, threatening to spill. My chest burned, desperate for air.
"N-no… I didn't mean to—"
"Liar!!"
"P-please let me go," I stammered, choking from lack of oxygen. I was sure I would run out of breath soon.
He chuckled. "Let you go? Why would I do that? Why would I easily let you off the hook?"
"Well, maybe you aren't that useless." He leaned closer, taking a whiff of me. His other hand took strands of my hair, curling them and running his fingers down my face in a manner that made my skin crawl.
A wicked idea seemed to have formed in his head. "Why don't I take you to my chambers, huh? I would like to know myself what the king saw in you."
His eyes glimmered with delight, lingering on my body the way hands couldn't. "You know, he has never wanted a bride...but you. By the time I'm done with you, I'd be sure to tell him you weren't worth it."
Lust. I could feel the maddening lust in his eyes.
"P-please, no." I shook my head, hot tears finally spilling down my face. I couldn't contain the panic within me. "Don't d-do this."
Every plea fell on deaf ears, and the next moment, he began dragging me away. My fingers clawed desperately at his hand, but he didn't budge.
Why wasn't anyone coming to my rescue?
Why could no one in the castle hear my cries?
I wished Lady Katherine would come to my aid. The oddest thing was that there was not a single guard in sight.
He turned back for a moment, looking behind us, and there I got an opportunity. Without hesitation, my leg slammed forcefully between his thighs, and he let go of me abruptly.
His face twisted with pain. "You bitch!!"
I took the opportunity to flee, but being a human was my disadvantage. I was slower. He grabbed the back of my hair, yanking it so hard that a cry tore from my throat.
I stumbled, my feet barely finding the ground before he dragged me against him.
"Did you really think you could run away from me?" he hissed furiously into my ear.
His grip tightened. My struggles were futile.
"You already did enough," he muttered coldly. "Now let's see if your blood tastes just as sweet as you look."
My eyes widened at the realization of what he was about to do, but it was too late.
Two sharp fangs swiftly appeared in my view, aiming at my vulnerable, exposed neck. I closed my eyes, doomed to feel the harsh piercing in my flesh and the excruciating feeling of being sucked dry.
A second. Two seconds passed.
Instead of a bite, all I felt was the strong grasp pulling away from me before something slammed incredibly hard into the wall beside me. The sound of shattering bones echoed—I was sure.
Excruciating groans erupted from the familiar voice. I flinched at the impact and slowly, my trembling lids opened to the scene I had dared not dream about.
The vampire who had held me moments ago was no longer touching me.
He was pinned.
Pinned against the stone wall where he had been crushed. His body was lifted slightly off the ground, his feet barely grazing the floor. Cracks spidered through the stone wall behind him from the impact.
A hand—no, not just a hand. A gloved hand—was wrapped tightly around his throat.
My breath hitched. I felt a different kind of panic. A panic I hadn't felt when I was in the midst of scornful vampires, a panic I hadn't felt when my blood was about to be sucked dry. A panic that felt like I was standing before something greatly evil and dangerous.
The owner of that hand stood between us in the dim light. He was tall, unbelievably tall. His presence swallowed the space whole. Shadows clung to him like they were his clothing.
I couldn't see his face. I couldn't see anything at all. He had his enormous back to me, and a black cloak covered his entirety.
But I felt his presence.
It was suffocating, commanding, and it pressed against my skin far heavier than the vampire's grip ever had.
The struggling vampire clawed at the hand holding him. His earlier arrogance was gone, replaced by raw panic.
"Y-Your Majesty—" he choked, his voice breaking.
Your Majesty.
Those two words echoed in my mind, realization dawning on me, and in moments, my world screeched to a halt.
It was him. The King of Velmont was here.
My mind went blank, and suddenly, I couldn't process anything again. No fear, no terror, no horror—just an emotionally dead state, passively observing the scene unfold before me.
The horns, the red eyes, the scales, the terrifying reality of him that stories told, all concealed behind that cloak, I was sure.
A sickening crack echoed through the hallway. His grip had tightened more on the man.
A low, cold voice finally spoke, each word was measured and deadly calm. "You dare touch what is mine."
The air turned still.
The vampire's body trembled violently, his eyes wide with terror as he shook his head as much as the grip allowed. "I—I didn't—she—"
Another sharp crack, and a strangled scream tore from him.
"Time and again, you've disappointed me, Samael," his emotionless voice was uttered.
His hand let go of the man's neck. The vampire gasped in relief, thinking he was finally released. Without warning, both of the cloaked man's hands flew back to his neck.
This time, his hands held him in a manner that, in one swift movement, he tore the head off the neck, giving the vampire no chance to react.
Blood splattered on the wall as the decapitated head and headless body fell to the ground with a thud, blood spewing out of his neck in a pumping motion.
My eyes teared up at the scene, yet I was unable to react. The numbness of utter disbelief that, in front of me, a brutal murder had just been committed. I had never witnessed murder before.
My eyelids turned heavy, probably from the utterly grotesque view before me. I could see the cloaked man's head turning, but I didn't get to catch a glimpse of him before my head swirled.
I lost my stance, but somewhere in my giddiness, it seemed like I had caught two silver orbs staring at me. My eyes shut closed from dizziness, and the last thing I felt was a strong pair of arms catch me, preventing me from hitting the ground before I fell unconscious.