The Queen's Slave (Book 1)

Forty: Eternity

"True love is eternal, infinite, and always like itself. It is equal and pure, without violent demonstrations; it is seen with white hairs and is always young in the heart."

-Honore de Balzac

My teeth ached from gritting back my rage as the guard drug me down the hallway by my arm. The manacles holding my wrists bound seemed to shrink around my wrists, warning me that just because I was not collared, there were no guarantees that I wouldn't suffer should I try to shift. So here I was, gritting my teeth and swallowing back the primal rage that threatened to blanket my vision at the feeling of the guard's hand on my waist, holding me against him. My mind wandered to my mother, her dirty hair and bright eyes the last thing I saw before I was shoved from the dungeon. A new sense of desperation tore at my heart. It was no longer just myself I had to lookout for, but my mother too. I would do everything in my power to get her out of that disgusting cell. As we wound around and around, following the staircase up, I'd gathered that we were heading to the top floor. Thankfully, it wasn't long before we stopped in front of a door.

Before the guard could knock, it swung inward, revealing the interior of the room. I rolled my eyes in annoyance as I was roughly shoved inside. It was the same layout as Elizabeth's room, only the walls were painted a dark red, the curtains black, giving the room a mysterious and righteously dangerous vibe. One window completely adorned the wall to my right. A sharp metallic scent hit my nose as we strode forward, the smell of the fresh blood awoke the beast in me. She opened one eye, but finding nothing, settled down into slumber.

Real help you are. I drawled, sarcasm dripping from my words. Obviously I didn't expect an answer from my otherwise unpredictable consciousness. My eyes landed on Ezekiel, standing with his back to us as he dropped the girl's lifeless body to the floor. My nostrils flared, taking in her human scent even as the last of her soul fled, erupting a chill down my spine. The pastel pink dress she wore was torn and bloody. I curled my lips into an expression of disgust as he turned towards me, wiping the blood from his mouth with a white handkerchief.

"Oh good, you're here." I did not wither under his gaze, but rather stood tall. Predator verses predator. Now, my beast awoke, flooding my body with heated awareness, causing the manacles to grind my bones together in warning. A chilling grin worked its away across Prince Ezekiel's face. He spoke to the guard without looking away from me. "Clean this up please."

I stared at him as Baron carried the body out of the room, shutting the door silently behind him. My blood was boiling, my instincts screaming at me to bury my fangs in his neck and take his blood the way he had taken from thousands of innocent people. My mouth ached as my canines descended, pushing against my lips. I paid the pain no mind as I grudgingly shoved my beast back, locking her within the cage in my mind. She snapped and snarled at me, but thankfully gave in. I flexed my fixers and was relieved as the manacles gave and allowed me to breathe a little easier.

"What is it you want?" My voice was flat and cold. I fought the urge to step back as he came to stand before me, his fingers brushing my cheek, tilting my head to the side. My fingernails dug into my hands, just shy of splitting my palms open. I forced myself to relax as his nose brushed the crook of my neck and shoulder, inhaling for a long moment.

"Interesting." He mused, stepping back. His gaze perused my face with sick fascination, before he turned and headed towards the far wall, grabbing a bottle of whiskey. The scent alone burned my nose to oblivion, but I knew I was in no position to turn the drink down.