The King Of All Vampire Kings (Book 1) ✔️

|72|~Royal Traditions Part 2~

Unedited.
Claire POV.

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Suddenly, Nicklaus pulls out the chair, for me to take a seat. Then, he follows my lead.

"You may come, slaves." He directs the chosen's after the other vampire kings follow suit. They move in unison, like a choir singing together in harmony.

"Now that we're all are seated," he announces. "We can feast and discuss the matter at hand."

"Cut the Crap, Nicklaus! How about you enlighten us with why the hell you declared a chosen whore to be our queen?"

***

My neck snaps in Cyrus's direction, crimson red blood immediately drips into my vision, and my chest is ablaze, full of scorching hot rage. "Mind your tongue, Cyrus," Nicklaus growls.

The love and devotion in his features are long gone. Long gone! Replaced with passionate fury.

I can feel his body go stiff beside me. His soft and delicate fingers, which were just entwining with my own, are now sharp and claw-like talons digging, deeper than deep into my skin. Even with that, I refuse to let him go. My hand moves up his skin and grip onto his wrist.

Cyrus's red eyes lock with my own. "What," he asks with a sarcastic tongue. All I'm doing is voicing the concerns of the people. He can't be serious, right now. He is trying it. Out of all the barbaric creatures inside of this room, I've never expected Cyrus to challenge him, to challenge us.

The others vampire kings watch the scene with emotionless expressions and in complete silence, including Xander.

"You and I both know this has nothing to do with how anyone feels, but you." My grip on his wrist is slipping by the second. "Don't turn our petty dispute into a personal vendetta," Nicklaus warns. "It shall not end well for you."

Cyrus stands to his feet. "I'll take my chances. He is playing with fire. "You're bringing filth to our throne and you expect me to bite my tongue," he spits, staring Nicklaus directly in the eyes.

"Cyrus," my beloved voice is low, dangerously low. Somehow, the room still manages to shake. He is losing control and so am I.

Fury crashes through my entire body like a tidal wave. The dark and menacing presence breaks free flooding my mind, body, and soul. Without warning! Pitch black rage taints my inner light. My monster is in attendance, ready to pounce.

There is a storm of apprehended murder, brewing above our heads.

Each passing second, the room becomes more silent and more deadly. The air is filled with cruel and wicked anticipation. Cyrus's action is a wreck, a recipe for brewing death. My beloved is shaking violently. He is this close to snapping. His rage is scorching, burning brighter than the deserts sun. The darkness inside of his soul invades my own, darker than a fossil fuel of midnight coal.

Century's worth of memories consumes my brain. Nicklaus memories with him and Cyrus! He is fighting his demon, attempting to spare the king that he calls brother life.

"Cyrus,' I use a tone of reason out of respect for Nicklaus.

"You have no right to speak to me slave," mocks Cyrus, sealing the deal.

With a chilling roar, Nicklaus releases the beast. He moves in a blur. So quick I didn't even feel his wrist slip from out of my grasp. The scorching hot heat burns brighter with the movement of his feet. In a flash, Cyrus is up out of his chair, meeting Nicklaus head-on.