“Are you questioning my authority?” The look on Tyron’s face confirmed he didn’t hold much store by his father’s authority. “I said release her.”
A movement in the shadows caught my eye.
“I’m sorry old friend, but we cannot stand back any longer. It is clear your son has no intention of letting her go, and we must insist upon it.”
Relief flooded through me as Hemming strode confidently into the room, closely followed by Sebastian, Seff, and Arta. Sebastian advanced towards me, and I offered him a weak smile.
My relief, however, was short lived.
“Traitor.” Tyron hissed at his father, signalling to his men for back up. “How could you? Not killing them is one thing, but inviting the enemy to our house? You’re a disgrace to Vira.” Tyron stood defiantly before me, an angry shield.
Sebastian stopped short and considered the unfurling situation, his eyes pools of fury at my condition.
“And you’re not?” Sirus screamed hate at his son. “We rule with intellect and guile, not rape and murder. It is you who is the disgrace.”
Tyron flicked his fingers at Durus and Daryl. They understood the meaning, and in the blink of an eye, they crossed the room and took hold of Sirus.
“Times change…and so do rulers.” Tyron drew a sword from a nearby suit of armour, swung the blade with great accuracy, and severed Sirus’s head clean off. It rolled away and landed with a thud against the wall, and before the vamps let Sirus’s body fall to the floor, Tyron took hold of the severed torso and licked the wound.
I felt sick to my stomach. Tyron was a depraved, insane individual who deserved to die in the worst possible manner.
“You have gone too far this time. Your actions will be condemned by the whole community,” Hemming snarled. “I advise you to be prepared.”
Tyron was unconcerned. “He was old. His time has passed. It’s time for some new blood around here.”
“You try to justify your crimes?”
Tyron turned his back to Hemming and addressed Durus and Daryl. “Gentlemen, we appear to have a problem with vermin in the place.” They sniggered excitedly, knowing he wasn’t talking about the rat in the dungeon. “Guards!”
“Afraid you’ll lose without backup?” said Sebastian. “It’s been a while since I killed a piece of scum like you, but I think I remember how.”
Tyron curled his eyebrow. “You don’t have the balls.”
“Shall we test that theory?”
“Be my guest…Daryl.”
“I have no beef with Daryl,” Sebastian said.
“You’re on my territory now, and here I make the rules, here I am god, you are nothing. Besides, I’m a little tired from killing your cousin earlier, so I’ll be sitting this dance out. I’d prefer to be a spectator to your death.”
“In your dreams.”
The sound of grinding stones echoed through the hall. Around the circumference, openings appeared and more vamps materialised from every orifice. There must have been at least twenty. We were surrounded. I looked at our pack of four. They didn’t stand a chance.
The Lovells signalled to each other, stood fast, bowed their heads, and began to shake. Before my eyes, they transformed. A dozen more wolves appeared out of thin air to join in the fight. The vamps were quick to respond. They crouched and pounced, fangs bared at the unexpected intruders, who answered the assault, leaping up and clawing out at their attackers.
YOU ARE READING
Foxblood: A Brush with the MoonFantasy
Complete at 75,000 words. One incident is all it takes to change your life. For Sophie it happened the day the fox attacked her. When Sophie moves to university, she is finally happy; reunited with her best friend and spending time doing the one thi...