Beast of the Damned #2

* Chapter Twelve *

~ KINLEY ~

To tempt a beast, that is my ticket to ensure my place among the vampirie is warranted. It's hard to concentrate on such matters when the one I'm supposed to be enticing has his fangs within biting distance of the heart he's threatened to rip from me.

"How can it pulse after escaping the organ that commands it?" Tristan lifts his cheek, swiping his thumb across the remainder of blood smeared on the back of my hand.

An illuminating glow coming from my dresser pulls my attention away from the ashen vapors creeping out from the shadows of my dimly lit room. The opal from the necklace I woke up with is aglow. It brightens then dims, brightens then dims.

Tristan lets go of my hand and touches the scarlet sheen on his cheek. "I can feel every strike. Every squeeze that sustains your life." The ebony energy within Tristan comes alive, its stilled placement once again shifting with the ever-dropping temperature around us.

The shadows in my room liquefy, joining the black vaporous streams of energy crawling their way up my dresser. They glide over the pendant, dimming its light as they climb their way to the mirror.

Within the glass, red eyes pierce out against a figure comprised of veiled shadows. My skin jumps, a loud bang coming from the other side of my chamber door.

"Don't open that." Tristan rises, the wonderment of my freed, pulsing blood no longer of interest.

"Kinley, it's me, Zaidan. Are you all right? Open the door." Zaidan's voice filters through the thick steel of my chamber door.

I glance back at the mirror; the shadows trapped within are moving like the flames of a roaring fire.

"Please, open the door." The knob rattles accompanied by another loud bang. "It's not safe for you in there."

"Zaidan?" I cautiously reply, unsure if the reason it's unsafe is that Tristan picked up his sword or if it's the shadowy figure in the mirror I should be worried about.

"Yes, yes it's me. They are coming for you. You have to open the door."

"The exiled have breached the castle?" Tristan halts me from reaching the door.

"No, the guards. You've been found unworthy of the gift of immortality and sentenced to death. You have to let me in. We have to get you out of here."

Unworthy. The word drills into me. Rancid table scraps unfit for even the hounds.

"As we speak, the Council is releasing Thron from the coffin." Zaidan tries the knob again. This time, I'm unable to hear the jiggling as Thron's venom-laced teeth fill my mind, his enraged thirst echoing in the confines of my trembling body.

"They sent his son to distract you. My mother wants you dead. She's poisoned the Council against you. Hurry and let me in before it's too late."

My gaze drops to Tristan's sword. He isn't here to defile the angel within me. He's the warden holding me captive until my executioner arrives.

The heavy metal of Tristan's sword clunks to the ground. His powerful arms wrap around my waist so swiftly my feet come off the floor in my mad dash to the door.

"Let go of me. Let me go. Zaidan! Zaidan, help me!" I scream, trying to pry Tristan's arms off me.

"I can't let you open the door. It's not who you think it is."

"Hurry, Kinley. I can hear them coming. We are running out of time." Zaidan pleads.

"I can't. I can't get free." The struggle to get out of Tristan's hold is futile. He keeps my back crushed against his chest, toes shy of reaching the floor.