Always As You Say (Book One In The Waven Series)

37

A/N Yaay! Accents gone, so that means from now on, please for the love of god tell me if I missed anything.

Being here was jarring.

His soldiers split their path for me, just as they always had, though before it was out of fear, fear of what he would do if they came anywhere close to touching me. Before, their gazes had held less open contempt.

For as much as I had been a soldier, I hadn't really. How could I have been, when I was treated so differently. When I was so obviously being molded into something other than they were.

Though I suppose that no longer mattered, soon they wouldn't be able to see me as either. As a soldier or as what I had always truly been, a weapon. No, instead they would have only the right to see me as I would be, whether they wanted to or not.

With that in mind I walked on through, though I stopped again shortly after, for the sight before my eyes was one I never thought I'd get the chance to see, never thought I would have to see. For there amongst the soldiers was our Amara, and clearly she belonged, belonged more than I ever had.

"I see, you have spotted your friend then have you Nikolas? Don't tell me you came here to talk to her?"

And suddenly, it didn't matter so much that she was here, that she was alive, because there he was, The Waven.

"You know why I'm here." His eyes lit up, worn face lifting itself into that familiar smirk of his.

"Of course I do. I'm the one who told you to come." He was walking towards me, ignoring the looks on his soldiers faces as he did so.

I could see why, why he couldn't bring himself to look at them, as for every person staring on in horror, faces filled with apprehension, there was someone looking on at me in awe, looking at him with faces triumphant as though they and not me were the ones responsible for his fall.

"Well? Are you going to kill me or what?" Oh what patience has he.

"What's the rush?" At this he looked around, almost in exasperation, and without a word turned and walked back through the path he had created, knowing that as I was here, I would follow.

~~~~~~~~~

The ceilings there were far too high, they made everything around them look dwarfed. Though the affect did not quite reach him, for he stood his full towering height.

If anything the height of the room seemed to emphasize his own, making him seem larger than life just as it shrunk me and all else within its confines.

"I've been waiting for this for a long time, Nikolas."

"Could you tone down the dramatics, maybe? You've been dying for less than a year, you can't be that anxious to get it over with." As condescending as I knew I sounded, that was how he looked at me now.

"Oh no Nikolas, no I've been waiting alot longer than that.

I knew you were going to kill me from the moment I saw you, standing there looking so powerless.

I knew I was going to give you the power you never got to have." Yes because giving someone you think looks powerless, literally everything, sounds like a great idea.

Which, thinking about it now, is probably something I should say to him, not just myself. And so I did, to which he replied simply,

"Of course it does, it's the only idea that makes any sense. Someone who's had to live without power will have thousands of things in mind that he never got the chance to use it for.

I know you won't waste it."

"So what?

Do you really think, if I had plans for power at all, they would be anywhere near in line with your own? Do you honestly believe that I would do with it the things you have done?"

"Of course not, I'm not an idiot Nikolas," You sure as hell sound like one,"But I also know that that isn't really a bad thing.

I've been building towards something Nik, I just haven't gone about it like I should have. But you? You will do this right. You are perfect."

The look on his face was practically predatory, as though he were taking credit for me, for whatever it was he thought I would do.

With steps as quick as lightning he had me up to the wall, hand at my throat and nose trailing the length of my jaw.

"Well, at least you will be." And with that I felt a pain, his knife.

He had dug it from my pocket and now had it in his hand, had it at my throat; it was impossible not to compare our current position to the one that I had Anthony in earlier. Though then I had intent, I couldn't quite figure out his own.

Had no clue as to why he dug that knife in deeper, widening the gape, before directing the blade onto his own skin, his own wrist, creating a wound just as deep and clearly just as painful there.

Noticing my eyes on his own he smiled that crooked smile, and attached his mouth where my blood flowed out, forcing my head to do the same to the wound on his wrist, sucking in my blood as I did the same to him.

"There we are. I'm sorry Nik, you weren't supposed to hurt today, only I was. But really, it's not my fault you let them bleed my blood from you, I wouldn't have to do this again if you hadn't done that." Did he mean Amara, Amara who had joined him, who I used to think had saved me.

I was getting dizzy, flowing through a semi-consious state as he bled me and forced his own toxic blood to replace my own.

He was talking, saying something, something important, something that I knew once but had forced myself to forget. I knew he was talking, knew what he was saying, but I couldn't hear him, not really, couldn't move either.

But no, if that were true that would mean I wasn't awake, at least not properly, and if that were true he would be angry, he hates it when I fall asleep, wants me to be conscious.

So yes, I could hear him, though the words were blurring as they formed. And, oh.

Oh no. I have to move, have to.

I thought briefly that I heard a door open, but I couldn't have really, because at that moment I screamed far too loudly for the sound of a door to possibly penetrate the sound emitted.

Stop moving. The Waven, that was him, wasn't it? Had to be, for I wouldn't tell myself to stop moving away from this incredible pain.

Except, now the pain was gone, now I was fully awake and looking down at The Waven. Looking down at him, for now he was smaller than I, though still he stood with a look of triumph as I grabbed that knife from his grip.

Looked up at me with a face absent of fear as I took him by his throat, ignoring the screams of protest by those who had spilled into the room undetected at the sound of my first scream, a face showing a pride never before shown to me by the man who owned those features as the knife dug in.

And then, as the blood started to flow, that pride ebbed from his gaze, replaced by the pain, the regret that started to show as I smiled down at him, as I reached his jugular and bit down instead of continuing to cut, as my fangs extended and ripped that vein apart, ripped his head clean off.

Behind me the screams had stopped, all that was heard was a gasp, single and soft and broken, so I turned around, and there, held in place by Amara herself, stood Anthony. My Mr. Beautiful.

A/N

Welp, accents are gone.

I suppose that means that if the story's still awful I can't blame it on anything other than my writing.

Shit, did NOT think this through.

Lol, anyway.