"Come back to bed, love." A chocolate smooth voice teased within an assortment of scarlet linen and plush pillows. An arm dangling lazy off the edge of the bed, clever fingers reaching for their match. But Cato had already slipped out of the bed and begun dressing, ignoring the hungry stare of his bed slave as she gobbled him up—her heart (and lady parts) throbbing at the sight of him. While many Vampyrs were portraits of immense masterpieces, Cato was the finest Servitor of them all. High cheek bones and finely carved jaw, his pale skin shining like he had swallowed moonlight—his chocolate hair looked almost black in some glances.
Again his bed slave unleashed an irritated sigh, tired of trying to bring him back to bed. It was a constant cycle with Cato, he would ravish her every night but as soon as the sunless morning came he barely even looked at her let alone tried to bed her again.
"Where are you going?"
"Ardian castle," he said casually.
"Whatever for?"
"Astaroth wants me to deliver a message to the flesh eater king."
She cast him a dark glare, her stare seemingly darker than the writhing shadows around them. "How convenient," venom on her tongue. She tossed a lock of moon white hair off her shoulder and gathered up the blankets as she stood. "That the human you claimed just happens to be in the possession of Lord Demetre and Astaroth has ordered you to go to him and you are in such a rush to tend to Ashtaroth's wishes."
Pausing, Cato looked to where she stood. His eyes piercing through her entirety. Under his imperious gaze, his bed slave tried her best to retain her death like stare. His eyes fell over her shoulder, to the door beyond. Wordlessly, he swept past and snatched his white shirt from where he had discarded it on the floor and strode right past in nothing but his britches. "I want you out by the time I get back."
" Am I right," she whirled, feeling her throat get a little dry. "Am I right that you have grown to care for her."
He slammed the door so hard the shadows in the room recoiled.
~
He hadn't bedded anyone in months, the last woman he took to his chambers was incinerated and he knew exactly who did it. But the woman was a human slave, and no one even batted an eyelid to her death. During said months it had been his hand wrapped around his manhood. But last night with Kara had been...shit it was out of this world. He had forced her jaw wide and opened her mouth and watched his seed fill her rosy cheeks. But after, it was not Kara he imagined but Rose. He didn't imagine fucking her to until morning like he did Kara, he didn't imagine touching her at all. Though he couldn't deny certain areas of his body were itching to feel the heat of her skin.
No with Rose it was different.
With Kara braced over the troughs and valleys of his chest, he imagined Rose sprawled in his embrace in her stead as though that was where she was meant to be, where she will always be, where he wanted her to be. His fingers tangled in the soft curls of her hair as she slept soundly, comfortable to simply just be. And he imagined that when she woke, when those amber eyes that looked like puddles of honey met his, she would smile at him and greet him with a kiss. There would be no fear in her eyes, she would see him as himself—a monster, a king, a beast—and want him close anyway. When he looked at her it felt like he could hardly breathe but at the same time she was the air in which he needed. She was on the edge of disaster, a flower amidst an earth quake—beautiful, disastrous, tragic.
One can hardly fathom how agonizing it must be to see eternity in the eyes of someone who will not live to see the sunrise.
It was her he imagined killing right after. His bloodlust was getting worse and worse. First it began with blackouts from the hunger and then sleepless nights, and then the gnawing along his temples that felt like a drum. His anger was getting worse. It always had been a problem but now...it was unchecked, and he did not want to give into it.
So many Flesh eater kings have given into the Flesh eater madness and if his hunger goes unchecked, it affects all in his line, all in Attahelm. It was his curse after all.
The madness will take from you your sanity, your court, your line. Until there is nothing left but hunger and insanity and chaos. He'd lose his throne and his mind, and it was all because of Rose. The safest place for her, out of Astaroth's grip, was Attahelm but the only danger she in was being alone with him.
Dean rose from his bed and let Kara's arm fall off him. Noticing his sudden movement, the Wite rose too, a sketch of alarm on her perfect face. "Sweet lover of mine, where are you going?" she tucked a wisp of blonde hair from her face as she watched him dress into a shirt of fine grey cloth and dark trousers.
He didn't look at her when he answered. "I'm spending the day with Rose."
Kara's red eyes darkened. "Why are you wasting your breath on a mortal."
"She's my guest, Kara."
Dean heard her suck in a breath that sounded more like a viper hissing, plotting to sink its fangs into his neck and seed him with poison. Kara huffed as she crawled out of bed, nude from their antics last night. "Why not just kill her? If you don't I will."
"No one touches her." Dean, half unbuttoned, was a spill of storm clouds of emotions though his face was set in an undiluted coldness. That coldness was sharper than anything else, especially when it came to Rose's wellbeing. He was ready to tear Rhazien to shreds for letting her watch the training yesterday, he almost did, had Rose not stepped in and practically kneed him in the balls. He didn't know which was worse, the fact that she watched him kill or the fact she was not fazed by it.
Ra above. Why wasn't she fazed by him? Why wasn't she afraid? She had been but now that fear had turned into an older, darker taste. The spark in her eye whenever he challenged her sent shivers down him.
A hollow shell of Kara's voice answered. "As you wish."
Just then, Alke bustled into the chambers and bowed with invisible skirts. Grateful for the distraction, Dean gave her one order, "You will be Kara's hand today. Do make sure she stays out of trouble."
Casting him another bow, Alke nodded. Kara Saemos watched the Flesh eater king walk right out of the room without a goodbye, without a last look. As though she were a bed slave and not the daughter of a high noble. She had spent centuries trying for Dean's hand, her father had been trying for centuries more. Even before he became King. And still, she was not enough for him. But she will get the crown, she will marry him. And if Rose was an obstacle that she had to get rid of, then so be it.
"Alke, who tends to that human scum?" she asked with sweet venom.
"My sister and I, milady."
A grave smile appeared on her rosy lips, her fury tempered with desire. Cruelty sat easier on her shoulders, you see. "I want you to report to me everything she does, whom she speaks to and if she is around Dean, everything they do."
Alke was holding Kara's gaze for longer than most would have. "I only take orders from my king, milady."
"Then you must get used to taking orders from your future queen."
Working her jaw, Alke bowed. "Of course, milady."
~
The space was filled with painstakingly beautiful reliefs burnished in bronze. The walls were lined with ironwood shelves holding ancient tombs, washed by the strangest golden light but Rose could not see the source. She trudged up the colossal stairs, cursing while her feet got tangled by the hems of this ridiculous cream dress. She woke up to so many of them this morning, boxes of gowns and gowns—Ra above how can have one so many gowns. There were bags too, bags and pretty tops and shoes, heavens, the bloody shoes. She recognized that the bags and shoes came from the surface, but the gowns were clearly from Hel. Most of them rich in colour; deep reds, blacks and royal blues so she picked this one because it was brighter. The sleeves were sheer bells sleeves, the Bardot upper half was embroidered with flowers. It was beautiful, and the flower crown Afet had teased her into wearing was currently sat on her hair. Her hair had been curled gently by Afet's magical hands.
Cursing again, she picked up the hem of her dress and walked up the last flight of steps. In the vast space, her footfalls were almost silent, as though the polished floors sucked in her movements. More steps ran along the sides and branched out into a balcony that ran ringed the entire observatory. There were more shelves upstairs, it seemed. On the ceiling was a depiction of the solar system, the sun and stars and planets, planets she had never heard before and planets she knew all too well from physics class. It was all written in the old Vampiric tongue, but the letters were too far for her to read.
"I take it you're fond of astronomy."
His voice drifted to her and made the hairs on the back of her neck rise.
"Mine is a fondness, I think yours is an obsession," she tilted her pretty head and watched the Flesh eater king swagger down from the balcony, some tension flowed out of his shoulders as he approached. Those scarlet eyes drinking in every inch of her.
A dark smile danced on his face as he said, "Do you like the dresses?"
She clicked her tongue, ignoring his sweeping gaze. "They're all ugly."
His laugh tugged on something low in her gut. "And yet you make them look so beautiful."
She did look stunning, she'd regained the weight had lost around her hips and legs. Her waist slimmer and hips wider. Dean must have noticed too, considering his eyes had not left her for a moment. She wasn't even sure he had blinked yet. The cream gown clung to her curves before spilling into a puddle of fabric at her feet. She was breathtaking, delicate and lovely to look at.
"You—you didn't have to, you know." She rubbed her arms. "I don't need everything."
"Those clothes Alke had you in were hideous."
"Oh my god they're horrible."
He smiled and he gestured to the plethora of shelves. "Choose your weapon."
She tossed him a bitter smile as she headed over to the shelves. "A stake would be good."
"Are you always this volatile?"
"I prefer the term tactic."
"Ra spare me."
"Your gods can't hear you, my king."
His approaching footsteps and steely gaze made Rose want to hide herself in the pages.
~
They danced amongst pages and pages of books. Poured over manuscripts of fallen heretics and theorems of mad men, tombs of Vampyrs long since forgotten. She had wrangled out history from old scripts and seized stories from their graves and brought them to life again. Dean read her books she couldn't understand while he sat in a velvet arm chair, and she nestled at his feet to listen intensely. Her favourite was the great mythos by a philosopher named Rutsu Kase who was turned some four hundred hears ago after her obsession with Vampyrs led her to meet Vastos Fjor, a Volri and predecessor of Lord Astaroth. He became infatuated with her and turned her to be his wife. The next book Dean read to her was the seventh book of the Olhelm codex written by a scholar called L.H Toyne, it had writings detailing the history of witches and the conflict between vampyr and witches, not only just the witches but Nephilim—half heavenly being half human. This conflict had spanned years, a millennia. Had spanned Bygone eras and had never been resolved.
Why not just give the Arkaine back? Rose had asked, looking up from where she sat at his feet.
Even if we had it to give back, it wouldn't be that simple.
I think all of us need peace, when you fight wars, sometimes it's no longer about winning, sometimes it becomes above who had stand the longest.
He showed her an installation of the cosmos which had to be triggered by light. She hadn't called forth the light in a few days and found herself nervous, but Dean tapped the daylight ring on his finger and smiled. So she called it forth, it came rushing towards her—giddy and excited—and exploded from her skin like a dying star. When the light hit the light beams, it bounced and created zigzag beams that eventually hit a large circular orb in the middle of the room. The installation enveloped the entire observatory, projections of stars and galaxies that moved with a single wave of his hand. She watched with a quiet smile as Dean would pull and push planets away, expand galaxies so Rose could see them in their entity. They watched stars die and nebulas form, meteors strike satellites and obliterate them into nothing but dust.
It was difficult to ignore the calm, sweet satisfaction on Dean's face. The awe he had, the love he had. She realised, quite quickly, that Dean was a scholar and a philosopher. A nerd who loved science and knowing, who liked understanding. She understood why she was such a puzzle to him. Galaxies could be dissected into explanations, planets can be tracked and recorded—there was a start and end and an in between, an answer to most questions but she...she was a question he could not solve.
"Which book?" Rose called from the shelves as she ducked in and out of them.
"It's green leather bound, it should have Roheh written on the front." They'd tackled history but Dean wanted her to embrace religion. Learn each god by name, learn all their prayers and who it is they serve. She only knew of Ra and Yala from Thalia but none else. She scoured the shelves but did not find a book with Roheh written on it. There were endless volumes, and she knew Dean had probably read them all. Hells, he had five hundred years under his belt, of course he did.
Pulling herself up from ravaging through a bottom shelf, she turned, irritated from the unsuccessful hunt. She was just about to head back down the steps to the main room when something thudded behind her. The sudden sound made her power flare in panic.
There on the floor was a black leather-bound book. Strange, it must have fallen from a shelf. As she went to pick it up, it jerked, arching from the floor and landing again with a thud. What the—
It jerked again, hopping towards her. She jumped back and almost raced down the shelves to get Dean but something in her made her stop, something in her made her crouch by the book and pick it up. And when she did, her skin started to glow iridescently. The text on the front was an old tongue, not Vampiric, but she read it clear as day.
The tongues of Asgar Dehlm.
Without thinking, Rose hurried out of the maze of shelves and stumbled down the steps. Dean heard her coming, and when he saw her hurrying towards him, her skin lit like the very sun, he dropped the scroll in his hand.
"What is this book?"
He looked at her skeptically, his hands reaching to touch her shoulders, but he paused, taken aback by the way she was glowing. "You're glowing."
She held up the book in his face, her eyes looking like fire. "What is this book."
"I can't read the title."
"The tongues of Asgar Dehlm."
His eyes—sickly like blood—fixed on her. Dread pooled in her stomach in anticipation of his next words, the sentence that could make the world give out beneath her feet.
"Nothing," he said, the lie so smooth it was almost like silk.
"Don't fucking lie to me."
He sighed, reaching for her. "Rose."
"No," she sidled out of his reach. "Don't Rose me. You said you would help me figure out who I am, but you aren't even giving me all the pieces of the puzzle, it's like you want me to stay in the dark forever."
"Wasn't it you who said as soon as I figure it out, I'll have no use for you."
She scoffed. "I want the truth, Dean. Not some half-spun lie."
He stared at her for a long moment, his eyes flickering like he was struggling to leash his temper but also struggling to figure out whether it was worth telling her or not. But she wouldn't leave without an answer, even if it takes her the whole bloody night. And this place had never-ending night.
Silently, he took the book from her, and her skin stopped glowing, like a light had been turned off. He couldn't stomach looking at her so settled to stare at the book instead, stranded between anger and weariness, his tongue toying with his bottom lip.
"Asgar Dehlm is a place, the tongues of Asgar Dehlm is the language of the celestials who reside in Asgar Dehlm."
"Who are the celestials."
His gaze suddenly cut to her and there was iciness in them, something brooding behind his lids. "Not who but what."
He put the book on a table and gestured for her to follow her to the back of the shelves to the left, at the back of them, there was a massive relief. Another oddity. This relief was away from all the rest, hidden in its own solitude. The relief depicted strange creatures with knotted limbs and animal heads with human bodies and many eyes, many legs, and many heads. One was a serpent with wings and five heads, another which looked like dozens of spiders merged into one with a single face. One looked like a floating sun with antlers, and another was a single eyeball with thirteen wings. They were grotesque and vile to look at, unnaturally bent. There was one, though, one that drew Rose's attention more than any of them. It had the face of a woman with short hair and jewels carved into her brow, breasts that sat nicely in a breast plate and a necklace hanging from her neck. She had the body of a lion, her claws sharper than knives. But on her back were wings of a falcon, so big they took up a whole side of the relief. She was beautiful, mesmerising, haunting and dreamlike.
As Rose stared into her depthless eyes, the strange woman stared back. And the more she stared, her body locked entirely, like she had sunk into a mind that was not her own.
A battle. Bloody and gory. The woman's teeth buried into the neck of a poor soldier. No not a soldier, a Vampyr. Her hair matted with blood and mud, but her ferocity had yet to fizzle out.
A cave of blood. The woman's fur soaked with red, symbols like light falling from her rosy lips and into the swirling pool of blood. Words forming on her mouth, words that made the blood churn. And then she was gone, pulled beneath the surface of red.
A chamber somewhere in the mountains. The same animal woman lounging in a bed of ebony silk, her paws dangling over the edge, her kohl smeared eyes deep in slumber. A man slipped through the doors on silent feet, walking slow enough so not to wake her. Dark skin and yellow eyes. He woke her anyway, or better yet, she sensed his approach. Rising from the bed, she stretched out a paw, that paw melted into a hand, and she pulled him into her embrace.
"Rose?"
Rose inhaled deeply and blinked those visions from her mind. Her heart was pounding, her body feeling suddenly foreign. She found Dean staring at her with worry. "I'm sorry, those...those things...have a magnetism."
He gave her a strange look and she waited from him to see into her mind, but it didn't come. His eyes narrowed as though he was trying but he pursed his lips and turned back to the relief. He can't see into my mind. He didn't see what I saw. What did I see.
"The celestials are cosmic beings that have no true physical form, so they take on many. They are older beings, many believe they created everything, the witches believe they created them. Many say they were higher than the old gods of the world, many believe the old golds were servants of these creatures. The tongues are the Vesen's source of magic, sometimes it requires blood and sacrifice, the loss of something to birth another. When spoken the tongues can create universes, destroy planets and annihilate races. They can twist the very fabric of time and space with a single word. It's dangerous."
Again, Rose looking to the relief. To the plethora of things and monstrosities depicted. "If it's dangerous, why do the Vesens use it?"
He shrugged. "For centuries, the Vesens have been getting the upper hand and something tells me they have something that we don't know about."
"Something to turn the tide of war?"
"Something to destroy all Vampyrs from the face of the earth. If the Vampyr hunters don't kill us themselves."
Destroying Vampyrs wouldn't be a bad thing, Rose thought. "I thought Vampyr hunters were only in movies"
He looked at her then, his face scrunched. "What are movies?"
"You know, for a man who has a literal observatory in his castle of horrors, I'm surprised you haven't binge watched greys anatomy yet."
"Do I even want to know what that is?"
Ra above. A thought slammed into her, and Rose fought a grin. "Are you allowed to leave Hel?"
"Leave?"
She let herself finally smile, mischief in her eyes. "Let's go," she grabbed his arm and started pulling him away.
He dug his feet in to stop them. "I'm sorry."
"Let's go!"
He gave her a wry look.
"I'm not going to run away, not yet anyway."
Suddenly, panic slashed his features, he almost put his hand on her wrist. "You want to run away?"
She'd thought about it many times, had even memorised the hall ways and exists but the castle, it seems, doesn't want her to leave and changes the halls and corridors almost every day. She'd told it to fuck off plenty times and sometimes she hears it laugh at her pathetic attempts. "I would if I could but apparently, you aren't the only one keeping me prisoner." As if in answer, the walls of the observatory groaned. Useless ass. "Look, you want to learn about humanity, there's only so much I can teach you and there's only so many books you can read. If you want to learn what it means to be human, you need to live like a human. Even if it's for a day."
He chewed on his lip anxiously. "I cannot return you to Mistward, you've been missing for over five months."
Fair enough. "Do you have the means to go anywhere?"
"A simple transportation spell would work."
"Where do you want to go?"
"Where do you want to go?"
"Prague," she smiled. "I've always wanted to go. Nearly went there for university but my aunt refused to fund me."
Taking her arm, Dean stared walking. "Let's go, angel."
"Ew, don't call me that." She shrugged out of his grip.
"The fact you hate it makes me even more inclined to do it."
"Asshole."
"Prick."
As they left the observatory and raced down the hall, a girl wearing the guise of a shadow peeled off the walls and watched them bolt away. Arm in arm, one of them grinning, the other threatening to drive a stake into their heart for the noise. Alke watched her king and the human girl fade away into the dark. Turning her heel, she disappeared to inform Kara.
~
Alke straightened herself. "I managed to hide within the shadows in the observatory but not for too long, Demetre would have sensed my presence."
Kara paced back and forth in Dean's chambers, sick to her stomach with cold fury. The rage was eating her like maggots from the inside. "And?"
"He was teaching her our history. He read her the great mythos and a codex from L.H Toyne while she sat at his feet and listened. He showed her his installation—"
Kara's head turned abruptly towards the Servitor, her lip curling in feral anger. Dean had never let her step a food in his observatory, never showed her the mass of books he has, never showed her in grand installation. He'd ever given hers that much attention.
"Did you see where they went after?"
Alke was quiet for a moment, the conversation still singing in her head. Let's go. If you want to learn what it means to be human, you have to live like a human. Where do you want to go? Prague. "He walked her back to her chambers and told her that he had to meet with Rhazien to discuss the training of his flesh soldiers." The lie was smooth and easy. "He said he will be gone for the night, won't be back until morning." Rhazien refused rooms in the castle and settled on a little house in the city, despite being the general of all the king's armies, he prefers humility, living in conditions not fit for his status.
Kara chewed her nail, ruining her manicure. "I see. Very well, that was all?"
A nod.
"Get out then."
Alke bowed. "Milady."
When Alke slipped out of her king's chambers and into the chilly hall, she loosened a panicked breath. Her skin turning a deeper shade of grey. She had just lied to Balderik's daughter...and if Kara ever found out, Alke would die a painful, horrendous death.
She hurried down the hall, as fast as she could and entered Rose's chambers. She had to cover for the girl, even if she was human scum. She tousled her bed, shook the covers a little and brushed her hair from her face. Stilling herself as best as she could, she began weaving the air before her.
"Vos teskos mon treserrai."
An image of a sleeping girl began weaving on the bed, skin stitching together slowly and then all at once until a beautiful portrait of Rose lay with eyes closed on the bed. Her hair a mess, her nightgown askew. Small rises and falls of her chest could be seen from where Alke stood. "You owe me, human vermin," Alke said to the fake Rose in the bed.