Slave To The Fang

1, Lo, it begins

Before we start, I would like to remind everyone that this is a fictional book set in a fictional universe. This is NOT real life and it is for fictional purposes only. Nothing I write is meant to trigger anyone so I apologize in advance I suppose.

Kyryaan's POV (21 years ago)

Do you believe in fate or destiny?

The air was ashy, dry and yet exuberated that sense of calm that only a coming winter could. The walls of the mansion were buzzing like they always did, reverberating a rhythm that only its inhabitants seemed to vibrate. My mind was a blank canvas as usual as was my heart. This emptiness I felt, this deep hole in me that never seemed to get filled no matter the merriment....it was the one constant thing in my life, not the enjoyment that seemed to go on forever within these walls.

Sometimes we want so bad to affect our fates, our destinies but I had learnt a long time ago that it was pointless. I had decided to just let it be. Maybe this was my purpose, to be this person who sang music but the lyrics never meant much. How could it?

Tap tap tap, the leather of my shoes made contact with the floors of the hallway I was walking in. Alone, now that was a familiar concept. The shiny and polished black leather of my shoes were a deep contrast to the bright red and perfectly embroidered tapestries that hung solemnly on the walls.

The evening light shone through a window up ahead but as usual, that brightness that many people sought comfort in was just another boring contrast. Another thing that was always there. Yet affected me in no way whatsoever. I sighed and moved on my way.

I thought back to the blood slave in my bed, how her writhing form had orgasmed and then spammed in pleasure when I sucked the blood away from her willing neck. She was not dead, no not yet anyways. She was useless to me, a common whore and a slave who thought offering herself and her blood to me was going to increase her rank. It was incredible how silly the thoughts of common humans were.

Humans. Lowly creatures who had only the excitement of their short mortal lives to live up to. Except, they were all really living to die. I may have envied them in the fact that they could still feel the excitement in things while I couldn't not but they were pitiful and their mundane existences could only hope to reach up to the grace of that of vampires. A shame.

"Lord Kyryaan. You have some blood on your lips." One of my high ranking soldiers, one I could almost consider a friend said with a bow, our subtle friendship, the only thing that could permit his impertinence.

I let out my tongue and slowly licked away the blood on my lips, my tongue grazing my fangs just before I tucked them back in. The man handed me a handkerchief and rose from his bow, a small smirk playing on his lips.

"Hmmm. My meal was fussy." I said simply as an explanation and his smirk widened. I found no humor in it, it still didn't give me that spark, that excitement. My soul was still as hollow and dark as it was before. Some might call me unempathic but you tend to lose track of things when everything in your life feels black and white and nothing gives it color. Nevertheless, a smile rose to my lips. I had grown accustomed to this. Presenting something else and feeling another. I was the happy Lord. I had a reputation to keep. And yet no one knew the darkness that plagued me.

Or rather, no one cared enough to look.

I wiped the rest of the blood from my lips and moved further on towards the banquet hall. The man followed me prattling on and on about something I really didn't care about but I listened and nodded here and there.

Walking through perfectly sculptured double oak doors, I walked into the candle-lit banquet hall. Food, spiced, well-seasoned and delicious looking was set and steaming, their delicious scents wafting through the hall. Most of my high ranking officials were sat on seats around the large table, chatting and joking among themselves.