Rejection on the Alpha #1

08. Drawing Blood

(New and edited)
CHAPTER 8: Drawing Blood

My eyes ventured down to the page as I stilled, his words not quite meeting the area in which information should be processed in the brain, given the shocking revelation, especially of the date stamped like a blaring bold alarm on the page his fingers end on, the image of Artemis, "That King has been dead for centuries. And he's no vampire, that kind of eternal life would be more troubling than a soul of the elements." The way Martin explains it has me looking up into his silver eyes.

I felt a connection with the picture.

He turns the page, three pages ahead and shows me something even more troubling, "That's the brother the notes have already explained, the jealous older one who should have gotten everything and yet nothing at all." There's a bitterness in his voice, like he can relate in some way. Something flashes, it's set in motion in his eyes, but I wasn't so swayed by emotion in a man's eyes, and the rarity of it.

"The brother's name was Alastair Ares Fawn, a head warrior to a ancient power collected from the Icelandic Kingdoms, or so it was told. A bitter match to no one, he was far more aggressive, too much so to be a King of anything. But a warrior, that was no problem." He shrugs, leaning back, "I came across these books when we took over the Julius clan."

I stare at the muscular back of the so-called villain Martin describes, no more than the side of a high, strong cheekbone, eyes that I couldn't see, a form that looked like a god, "What did they have to do with the Darkling Clan?" I ask him, just to lead the conversation elsewhere, but I was curious.

"It's not only them."

"What are you talking about?" I ask him, looking through the pages.

"You believe the elementals are the only species the Darkling clan are involved with, the reason why the Darkling clan fully separated themselves from so many others, from a council you truly believe is worthy to be a council in the first place." He tells me, grabbing the book and turning the page, he taps his thigh.

"What?" I ask.

"Let me give you a massage while I tell you a story."

I almost blanch at him, "Did you lose a particular memory of recent events or are you just choosing to ignore the fact you're a moronic, abusive son of a bitch?" I ask him.

He grabs my legs roughly and almost breaks the chair I'm on, "Do not test me, Celestine. You will not like the result, if you need another run through of the cage, I am happy to oblige." His voice slithers down me like a snake, I still, tensing where I am. He begins rubbing my leg.

"Long ago, there were once two brothers, the youngest son had the blood of a witch and the blood of an Ice King, the oldest son was purely an elemental of the water lineage. The first Queen, mother to the eldest boy, was an elemental of the water lineage, a warrior herself, she won the position of Queen...it's quite a tragedy..." He looks over to me, I felt my arm burn, the inked one pattern he placed upon me looked like one, until he rolled my arm over and showed me the scar I never saw get made, or even healed. A bite mark, fangs that tore into flesh but never broke bone.

I still with a sharp inhale, "It's not just a binding, but my mate mark." His sharp voice echoes.

I try to rip my arm away, glistening eyes that look up to his impenetrable ones, "You marked me without consent? HOW FUCKING DARE YOU?!" I roar, standing but I'm ripped against his chest and he digs my back into the wooden table. I yelp at the horrendous sting it jabs into me. He tilts his head at me, the other hand leaves the book and brushes my hair from my face.

"One day, you will see and you will accept." He whispers down to me.

The anger I had diminished when I felt the barrier I keep around my mind shudder by an outside, he scratches and smashes with fangs and claws in my thoughts, and then he floods in, crashing into me like a bloody cyclone.