Chapter 9 – Bogdan's POV
Time is an elusive concept, one that is lost to the immortal species. It's not seen or heard, but it's there all the same. Like air. Or hope. It's an endless commodity to us. Unlike the humans, we don't live in Time's spotlight. Instead we live in its shadows – our presence noted throughout the transformation of seasons, but never changing.
It's because of this that we don't think of passing time. I certainly never did. Yet now I find myself consumed by it. Every one of my thoughts is aligned with Time's heavy hand. My gaze flickers to the door. I don't want to care about the minutes I'm apart from my human, but my mind continues to count them anyway.
47 minutes and 26 seconds.
27 seconds.
I pace back and forth across the jagged floor of the room carved from rock. My feet pause near the end of the bed. The bedspread is silk, it's dark golden color reminding me of his hair when the sun hits it just right.
46 seconds.
His scent is still on me, tricking my senses into a false sense of hope. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. It's been too long since I drank from him. My immortal body aches for him, dependent on his blood like a human is to air.
57 seconds.
I grip the bedposts and force my eyes open. Splinters of wood attempt to pierce my unbreakable skin beneath the strength of my hold. What could the Primary possibly have to discuss that would take this long? I smelled his attraction, his desire for my human the closer we got. Whether it was sexual desire or attraction for another reason I'm not sure. But it was there, and his emotions were potent.
My shoulders stiffen when I smell blood nearing my room. It's a Secondary. Their scent is far less potent than a human's. It's weaker, less palatable. I turn before they're able to knock and shout for them to come inside. It's not as if I have a choice in the matter. For all intents and purposes, the human and myself are now prisoners in this world hidden beneath layers of rock.
A woman swiftly opens the door. She carries a soft smile across her lips, but the rest of her expression is cautious. She's afraid. As she should be. She takes a step towards me, and then another. The scent of her fear intensifies when she gets within arm's distance of me and comes to a hesitant stop.
It is far more difficult to kill a Secondary than it is to kill a human, but it's still possible. She must know this too. Or perhaps it's not me who she fears but rather the reputation of my species. The last real interaction the Secondaries had with us was during the last war. I can't imagine we parted with a warm embrace.
"Hello...sorry to disturb you."
I blink back at her, unmoving.
"Uhm, my name is Anna," she continues, straightening her spine. "I was instructed to bring you a meal."
Her attempt of confidence is almost laughable. Almost. If it wasn't for the clock gibbering inside my head, I might actually indulge in a warning chuckle. But as it stands, my thoughts are currently entranced by the hands of Time.
52 minutes and 12 seconds.
"Ah, splendid," I respond coldly. "And am I to assume the Secondary population has fine-tuned their skills of illusion or invisibility?"
She visibly shudders at the menacing tone of my voice and falls back a step. Her fingers twitch at her sides.
"I'm not sure I know what you mean."
आप पढ़ रहे हैं
The Consort's Will 《COMPLETE》
वैंपायरAs an immortal war brings humankind to the brink of destruction, the hope for freedom begins to fade to dust. Mortals everywhere ache for liberation, to rid themselves of the shackles binding them to the undead for 29 years of their lives. But one...
