Aim to Participate: An Anthology

In the Tower

Ethandriah's back met the stone wall. The man standing before her was no human. He was the very thing of her nightmares. The height of his cheek bones, the angular cut of his jaw, and the sharp canines in his smirk had all tortured her dreams for nearly two hundred years.

What had caught her unawares was the piercing blue of his eyes. And the arrogant tilt of his smile. He knew everything, and wanted everything. Apparently, she had been on that list for some time.

"It is hard to come across elf anymore. So many humans with bland blood." He took a step forward. She had nowhere to go.

"I have a proposition for you." He twirled his ornate cane and gave her a toothy grin. "I can free you from this miserable place, and all you have to do is let me drink once."

The sky was not dark. Blackness was not swirling around them. The morning sun danced over the stone floor and lit the room quite nicely. This was not a nightmare, nor was she dreaming. Still, her fear made her irrational. She ran, thinking she could pass him.

He caught her around the waist. The smell of her blood beyond tempting. But Arctur was not a weak Red Blood. He did not drink without permission. That did not stop him from taking a deep breath close to her neck.

Ethandriah inhaled as well, fear and confusion coagulated at the top of her stomach. His arms were surprisingly warm for a creature of the night. But she did not wish to be in them. He released her before her elbow met his stomach.

"Now, now. No need to get violent. You may stay up here if you wish." Something fell from his pocket, as he moved for the window. A flower, she'd read they were called. It had white petals and a yellow middle that were held up by a green stem.

"Wait."

Arctur had not expected her voice to slide over him like silk sheets. There was wonder in her eyes. An emotion he could only remember feeling. She turned that wonder to him and he realized the mistake he would be making if he did not leave.

"What is this flower called?"

"A daisy." He watched the curiosity and sudden joy dance across her face.

"Are there more?"

"Yes."

"I want to see them."

The tables were turning. He had to get away. But she caught him before he could spread his wings. She tilted her head, offering her neck. If he took a bite...that was it. He was not a Red Blood. He was not weak. He did not need the bond. But if he wanted his freedom so bad, then why was it so easy for him to back her against the wall?

Ethandriah's nails dug into his coat as the fangs pierced her neck. Something in the way he groaned told her that he would not be drinking only once.