His Little Fae

Melancholic Bloodlust (I)

"Stop kidding yourself, Gabriel." I coughed, glaring viciously up at him. "You know full well that I haven't shifted. That whatever power I have now is nothing in comparison to your strength. Royal blood or no."

And I'm just out of training.

Goddess, I shouldn't have pushed myself so hard. If I had known...

He smirked at that. I stumbled onto my feet once again and pushed myself away from the tree.

I already felt dizzy, my head spun, and my thoughts tumbled around with no real order. My body ached and that was just one attack.

A blue flame sparked at my fingertips, but I had no time to let it grow. I needed time.

But it was clear the goddess wasn't on my side as Gabriel ran a hand through my hair, and tore painfully at the strands. I could feel blood trickling down the back of my head, most likely from that slam into the tree.

He fisted my hair, those eyes flashing in disgust. "Goddess, everytime I look at you I see your Mother."

My anger fueled at that, and I clenched my jaw, my eyes cracking open to meet his own. Both our irises burned a molten gold. And before he could pull back, I used the close distance to press my palms to his chest.

He thought nothing of it, his mind drowning too deeply in his own hatred.

A second later he was off me, his henchman staring disbelievingly at the flames that had erupted from my palms and incinerated their leaders' shirt. It was small, nothing in comparison to what I had unleashed during that ambush with Jayden.

"You bitch," Gabriel bit out, and I kicked the tips of my sneakers in preparation.

Glancing at the four vampires, he flicked his eyes back to me. "Hold her."

They hesitated as I flexed my wrist, their eyes landing on the ornate dagger I had grabbed from Gabriels belt before flinging him away from me. But a moment later, they were on me.

I held them off as best I could, my body leaning on it's own instincts. A roundhouse kick to the abdomen was enough to get one off me. The other three; however, weren't so easy.

Without hesitation, I slid the knife across the chest of another in a sweeping arc. It wouldn't kill him, but Goddess, it would hurt.

He staggered backwards, his blood seeping into his torn shirt, and I turned to the third man. Too slow. I was too slow, and too sloppy and my legs still ached from training.

The fourth vampire flashed behind me, his sharpened nails digging into my scalp and drawing blood. He tugged at my hair mercilessly, just as Gabriel had, and I recklessly threw the dagger at the vampire in front of me.

If possible, his white skin turned even paler, those eyes flashing a brighter red as it scraped his thigh.

I instinctively called the dagger back, just as I had done in the training hall in front of Damien. It was my only weapon, after all.

But just as I spun it backwards and moved to jab it into the vampire behind me, he grabbed my wrist, his fist tightening in my hair while he angled my head to the side.

He was stronger than the others, his scent carried more prestige, just like the man who'd grabbed me by the neck more than a month ago. "I've never tasted the blood of a royal hybrid," he mused as I held back a groan.

With a sudden force, he tore the knife from my fingers and flung it half heartedly into a nearby brush, the steel glinting and disappearing.

My heart beat with anxiety, and I instinctively rallied my magic, but it was too late. Those inexplicably cold fingers curled around my dainty wrist once again, while patches of my hair tore from my scalp and left behind a bleeding mess.