The King Of All Vampire Kings (Book 1) ✔️

|11|~Dogs & Leeches~

Claire POV.
Edited.

Water drips on my forehead, bringing me slowly into awareness. Shivers travel down my spine when the cold, damp air escapes my lungs. I lift my head slightly, listening to the sounds of hissing and howling coming from all different directions. 

My back is cramped and my legs are sore from sleeping on the hard cot. The water still continues to drip down, further provoking my body's discomfort. The smell of urine, feces, and vomit hit me hard and strong, causing me to gag. I make my way towards the toilet, as memories of before, I lost consciousness flash like a movie, playing inside my head.

King Nicklaus, his beloved . . . the human who lost her life because of me . . . I killed her.

Hot tears are the only warmth I feel, as they flow like a chaotic river down my cheeks. Vomit erupts the moment my body hits the floor in front of the toilet. I empty out my stomach, moving my golden hair out of my face just in time. My entire body trembles and shakes while my tears continue to flow, staining my red cheeks.

I fight to gain control of my pounding heart.

Once I finally find the strength to calm down, goosebumps trace along my skin, and the coolness of the air sinks into my veins. I manage to crawl my way back onto the cot. I press my body against the stone wall and place my head in between my knees, balling my body into a protective shell.

The growls seem to become more distant, as I lose myself, drowning in my own personal pit of guilt.

I don't know how long I stay in that position. A minute. An hour. Perhaps all through the night. But I'm sure that I never move and the guilt of causing her death continues to swallow me whole.

I have never been that human scared of falling asleep in the dark. In fact, I have always welcomed it. I have prayed for the day when my life ends for good, encased in a deep sleep, tucked away safely in darkness for the rest of eternity. But tonight, or today, is different. I can't sleep. Every time my eyes close, that poor sweet girl, head detached from her body, continuously pops into my head. Every single time.

Tugging of chains and a low growl from the jail cell across from my own break my train of thought.

"You didn't last long," a soft feminine voice says from the far back of the cell.

The darkness surrounding us makes it hard for me to see the figure's movements. I sniff and wipe away my tears, deciding to ignore the voice, until the figure decides to make its way to the front of the cell. The small light hanging in the center provides me with a perfect view.

I gasp as soon as the figure is in plain sight. It's the beast woman, or at least, what's left of her. She is much thinner than the first time, literally nothing but bones. Her long jet‑black hair is still matted and now tangled with blood. Her chocolate skin has purple and black bruises as well as numerous marks of fangs, but the right side of her face completely captures my attention. There is a strange, unique silver scar slashed across her face. It starts right above the corner of her eye and ends about mid-cheek.

Despite all the damage that her body has endured, she's still deadly beautiful. And in its own way, the scar only adds to her beauty.

I pull my eyes away from her face as she leans closer, holding the bars of the cell to support her fragile body.

A chilling chuckle leaves her lips before she tilts her head to the side and asks, "Why are you back here, human?"

"Why are you here, werewolf?" Sarcasm drips from my tongue as I question her back.

I don't like the way she utilized my species while asking me a question. The last time I checked, we were both behind bars, enslaved by the quote, unquote superior race. What gives her the right to look down on me?