The King Of All Vampire Kings (Book 1) ✔️

|35|~ You can't talk sense into the senseless~

Slave Boy in media. His name shall be revealed eventually.

"Commander," Nicklaus calls out.

Seconds later, two strong hands already have their grip on my left upper arm. Mr. Meany starts to manhandle me, roughly dragging me toward the top of the staircase.

"No, get the hell off me!" I yell in his big, mean face, attempting to break free. "Argh! I swear when I get free, I'm going to play ping-pong with your balls."

He doesn't budge, not even a bit.

"Asswipe! Jerk!" I mumble.

He still doesn't loosen his grip no matter how many names I call him. I see the slave boy shaking in his boots at this point. Most likely, he pissed his pants. On the other hand, Nicklaus's glowing red eyes are lit with excitement. He's circling the boy like a vulture circling its meal, a predator cornering its prey.

This isn't happening. No, this can't be happening! We have just been in this building for less than five minutes.

Within three minutes I have already sentenced a poor slave to death. I don't get it. This must be some sick joke. What's the harm in looking at another slave? This is ridiculous. Unbelievable. Absolutely absurd.

I continue my attempt to break free from Mr. Meany's iron grip. All the other slaves are now watching with horror-filled expressions.

"If you do this, I will never forgive you!" I yell as Mr. Meany pulls me up the stairs.

He doesn't say anything. Nicklaus doesn't even look my way.

"You're a monster!" I yell again.

Mr. Meany continues to haul me up the staircase.

Nicklaus turns around to face me.

"I know, firecracker," he admits, smiling.

God, I hate that smile. That sick, beautiful, and sadistic smile.

Okay, I'm lying. I love that smile, but seriously, who kills a slave because his chosen decided to look at him? This is some sick sh*t. Barbaric, wild, and absolutely unacceptable!

Nicklaus's eyes are now bloodshot red.

Thud, thud, thud. My heart is thundering in my chest, sounding like a beating drum. I'm so tired of hearing that goddamn sound, then everything goes in motion the very moment my two feet hit the top of the staircase. I feel like I'm watching a movie about a lion getting ready to pounce on top of a flamingo.

Nicklaus grabs the poor slave boy by his neck—all eyes are on them—but Nicklaus's eyes are locked on mine. He turns the boy to face me, squeezing his windpipes so hard. I'm sure the boy is now mute.

King Cyrus says nothing, amusement in his eyes. He's tickled. Now I understand why he received the title Ruthless King. He doesn't even care that one of his slaves is about to be drained on his lobby floor. For no reason, there's no pity or sympathy in his wicked eyes. Nope, none at all. He's smiling, thrilled.

What type of man gets a kick out of another man dying? I know what kind: a sick one, sicker than sick!

In the next second, Nicklaus wraps his arm around the poor slave boy's neck and sinks his fangs into his flesh. You can hear the human boy's skin as it rips. 

The boy's screams fill the air as his blood pours out of his wounds. My heart flutters rapidly as reality hits me: Nicklaus is really going to kill him. I can't believe that I'm the cause of another soul being taken from its body. I can't believe that I have been so foolish, so stupid, and dumb. This is my fault. I let my guard down, knowing damn well that I'm dealing with a barbaric king. He is unpredictable. How can I allow this to happen?