My Sire Is A Myth

Chapter 17

  He sent me flying into it, my chest was the first to collide with the stone wall breaking a piece of rock, I hit the ground with my back clutching my chest. I was sure I had broken bones.

With the energy I had left, I squeezed my rib cage back in place with a snap, a grunt leaving my lips; it left me gasping on the floor. 

I looked around the room, it was similar to Avery's just this one had no window.
I got up and slowly crawled to the iron bars, my shirt was torn and dirty, covered in patches of blood.

Slowly I went to the bars and went to look through but hissed at the sharp pain that flooded through my hand.

A burning smell filled the air and I narrowed my eyes at the sight of my burnt hand. I froze as I saw that my onyx ring was missing and a high window on the wall outside the cell room I was in, covered the iron bars in sunlight. 

My hand healed fast, but that didn't stop the burning anger that rose in my chest towards Sir Castor. Taking my ring meant I was completely at his mercy of which he had none. I grunted in frustration.

"Hello?", a soft voice rang through the air.

"Avery!", I huffed in surprise, she must have woken.

"What's wrong?", she spoke softly.

"I'm in the cell beside you", my tone was harsh.

"What happened?", she carried on with a whisper.

"Don't worry", I said not wanting to give her more to ponder on.

"Tell me", her sweet voice was persuasive.

I chuckled "You can't stop caring for others even if you're in knee deep shit can you?"

She chuckled humorlessly "I think I'm further in than just my knees," her voice lost the smile at the end of the sentence.

"What will happen?", she murmured.

"I  don't know", I didn't want to give her false hopes. There wasn't any. If they wouldn't find her attacker soon she would eventually be killed. I cringed inwardly at the thought of her getting hurt or even killed. 

"Who put you in here?", she sure was persistent.

"Sir Castor", my answer was bitter.

"He seems rude", she sounded angry. "Why do you respect him much?"

"Do I?", I wondered what made her ask that.

"Yes, the way you talked to him in front of me."

"Well he demands respect, he's the king's brother."

I heard her gasp "The king."

My eyes narrowed "You know about him?"

"Yes", she breathed. "He was here right before you came, they brought me up to him and he looked so", she stopped and took a breath "mesmerizing, he looked different then the rest of you. But he was so mad, he called me disgusting and cut my cheek."

My jaw clenched, imagining the king in his pureblood form raking his nails over her face.

"And all I had done was thinking he looked beautiful", she whispered.

"Beautiful?", for me the king looked well like a pureblood not beautiful at all.

"Yes", her voice was low "just like you."

My breath hitched "You're beautiful too." Her confession gave me funny feelings.

"Thank you", she sounded embarrassed "but don't say that, it hurts", I was taken aback at her bluntness. I was glad I couldn't see the pain on her face which was evident in her statement.