A tight sensation around my waist awakens me from my sleep. My eyebrows scrunch together as I struggle to gather my unfamiliar surroundings. I'm not in my room, that's for sure, and I'm definitely not alone in this bed. Fear almost begins to rise in me until I go to move my tired limbs. The dull pain biting into me comes as a comforting reminder of the events prior to my deep sleep. Well, it's mostly comforting and partially terrifying.
As I continue to let myself fall into the clutches of this foolish feeling of love, the idea of having to take the source of it away becomes ludicrous and almost impossible. I know that I have no other choice but to do so. Though, the moment I lose this, I do not know if I will have it in me to proceed as usual. I'm sure I'll foolishly search for Dorian every waking day and sleepless night, unable to let go of the sensation that ripped across my body as he bit into me with hunger and passion. Such a horrible future is not one I can look forward to. All I can do is fear it and hope to God it never comes. But I know it will come in due time. If not today, then tomorrow, if not tomorrow, then the next day, and so on. It will come, regardless of whether I want it to or not.
A shaky sigh expels from me as I carefully run my fingertips over Dorian's muscular arm that is slung over my waist. He groans in his sleep, then turns away from me. I almost go to turn toward him and wrap my own arm around his large build but I stop midway. This is not something I should indulge myself in. Besides, after what I did with Dorian, I've indulged myself enough for now. Still, I found myself wishing to return back to the warmth of Dorian's embrace after I carefully get out of bed. My eyes linger on the silhouette of his body against the moonlight pouring through windows before I quietly gather my shirt and put it back on.
When I'm just about to leave, I catch sight of my open journal, discarded on a nearby table. I hurry over to it, quickly snatching it up, only to discover handwriting that's not my own on the page. The handwriting is a perfect, almost machine-like cursive. Each word flows together beautifully as I read through the entry, smiling.
Recipe Num. 14
Cyra's Delicacy
Items:
* Cyra
* Dorian (No other vampire shall dare to use this recipe)
First things first, you must find Cyra. You'll be terrified at the mere thought of sinking your fangs into her, yet oh, so attracted to it at the same time. Once you find Cyra, all you must do from there is bring her in close to you. She will crumble into you at this simple gesture, just as you will when she kisses you. Kiss her over and over, slowly trailing down her soft skin. When she's lost within herself, bite her so that she writhes in pure pleasure. My final step is a reminder: give her more pleasure than pain so that she'll unravel into a beautifully chaotic mess beneath you.
Review from Cyra: She moaned into my ear more times than I can count, not that I'm complaining in the slightest. That only made it all the more enjoyable. Oh, but this is a review for her. I believe she liked it thoroughly, as she kept begging for more, even when she was growing weak from exhaustion.
Side note: If you tell Cyra you're going to lose control, she'll take your hand and lose control with you.
Now I'm being faced with even more of an internal struggle, and it's all because of the thought of Dorian writing this in my journal with the same wide smile on his face that is currently on mine. I force myself to set the book down before I have the chance to read the entry again. If I read it over, I'm sure I'll be able to pick out every little emotion that is hidden beneath each sentence. That is the last thing my fast-beating heart needs right now.
Momentarily, I look back at the bed where Dorian still lay asleep. The smile on my face begins to grow, making my cheeks ache.
"I'm no longer opposed to it," I whisper to him before quietly padding toward the door. As I pull the door open, I pause. "Good night, Dori."
The only response that's offered to me is a low sound, most likely coming from Dorian mumbling nonsense in his sleep. I laugh to myself and close the door shut, careful not to wake him.
If he stirs from his sleep, I'm almost certain he won't allow me to leave, not that I would mind all that much. He'd probably tell me off, scowling as he scoops me into his arms and...I shake my head vigorously as if to try to erase those forbidden thoughts from my head. Unfortunately, only more thoughts are invited in.
Thoughts of kissing Dorian again. Thoughts of touching him. Thoughts of him touching me...all over. Thoughts of a budding love that should not have been allowed to form in the first place.
I know I should snip the stem of that love and never let it grow again, but I refuse to act wisely now that Dorian's touch has been scattered across me. Like a brainless idiot, I'll let that love bloom and spread throughout my heart until it's all I can feel. I know it'll soon become the only thing I can grasp when all I'm left with is my bloodied dagger and the unbreathing body of the beast I have become entangled with.
Despite the gloomy future ahead of me, I can still smile, as I'm currently living in the present where Dorian is alive and well. I want to take every moment I have with Dorian and live it like it's our last. I'll make sure to do that, starting tomorrow.
I stop in my tracks, then slowly turn around to face in the direction I just came. Why not start now? No reason can be mustered against this lingering question. And so, I begin hurriedly tracing back my footsteps.
"Meow, meow!"
Two very loud and long cries sound through the hallway, forcing me to stop my hasty return to Dorian's room. The cries continue to come. I follow the noise down a bend in the hallway that leads in the opposite direction of my desired destination. My sights eventually settle on Cat, who's standing in the middle of the hallway, tail swishing about behind him as he stares at me.
"Were you looking for me?" I coo affectionately, reaching my hands out to Cat. "C'mon, let's go to bed, you little chunkster."
Cat skillfully evades my approaching hands and takes off running down the hallway. One glance is spared in the direction of Dorian's room before I run after Cat, determined to catch him.
That determination withers away into nothingness when I'm standing outside, barefoot and out of breath with Cat sitting on the ledge of a fountain. The tip of his tail taps on the stone of the fountain rhythmically until his tail breaks the beat, quickly swishing to the right and off the side of the fountain. His ears perk up as he stands, turning himself so that he faces the glowing water. Hesitantly, he lowers a paw downward.
It seems that the water has turned into an unlikely ally for me as I begin to sneak up on Cat. Everything is going smoothly until I lunge for Cat, only for him to bound off the ledge, leaving me to land face-first into the water. I pull myself upward, gasping for air. My drenched hair sticks to my forehead, neck, and cheeks. I feel like a drowned rat, one that is losing its patience and becoming very, VERY pissed.
I waste no time in bothering with fixing my hair, and instead, begin my chase after Cat once more. This time, I'm not intent on catching him to take him to bed with me but to give him a taste of his own medicine.
"Get back here, you little ass! Let's see how you like getting wet!" I call to him under this hiss of my breath, though he does not stop running.
I continue calling to him, switching between promises of head scratches to threats of allowing Callon to throw him in the oven from hell. Soon, I'm worn down to just breathless curses that occasionally float through a deep inhale or exhale.
My aching body forces me to come to a slow in the garden that meets the edge of the forest. I place my hands on my knees, bending over so. Through my heavy breathing comes the sound of Cat meowing. It's almost as if he's mocking my inability to catch him. I can already imagine what his high-pitched cries translate into.
"What a slow, foolish human! Maybe if you set aside those books and tried to exercise, you'd be able to run faster than an old crow with one leg!"
A breath halts between the threshold of my throat and lips. That certainly was not my thoughts sounding through the air just a few moments ago. I right myself quickly, mouth agape and eyes wild with bewilderment. The only person, or rather, animal, that voice could have come from was Cat. Such a thing is impossible though. Animals don't speak, at least not in my world. But, the thing I'm neglecting to consider is that I'm not in my world anymore. In the Kingdom of Bestias, where fantasy creatures galore roam the land, I shouldn't be surprised by any talking animals. Unfortunately, that's exactly what I am. Surprised and very weirded out.
"You can talk...?" I ask the obvious, still trying to wrap my head around the tough concept that defies all the laws of nature I know of.
For the first time in my life, I witness the sight of a cat sighing. His jaw opens and his small chest expands before all the air within his lungs is released. When his eyes fall upon my still-shocked face, he sighs again before stretching his front legs forward and then standing.
He spares a single glance in my direction, muttering, "To think I walk the same land as such repulsive creatures." His judgemental gaze sweeps up from my feet and to my face. "Big, stupid eyes full of no knowledge. A nose that protrudes out far too much. Ugly, dull teeth that will break at any inconvenience. Oh, the greatness of humans is nowhere to be found! Nowhere at all, nowhere..."
His muttering fades as he treads over the line of the forest and the safety of the garden. I put one foot forward, then another, and another, only coming to a pause when my feet are at that same line. The warning from Selene drifts through my mind, never get too close to the forest, especially at night. Her words fade away as I slide my foot past a patch of crabgrass that marks the end of the garden. I take one quick look at the dark manor, then, with a deep breath, I force myself to turn my back on it and disappear into the forest.
I wind my way through the maze of trees, using Cat's faint yet nearby voice as a guide through the darkness. If not for that, I most likely would have lost my way already. The view of Cat's small body trotting through the low grass as well as the now loud sound of his mutters finally greet me.
It's much more comforting to be nearby Cat, as I can't seem to shake the sense of foreboding that has fallen over me. Initially, it was just the simple prickling of skin, but now the hair on the back of my neck has risen. I can't help but feel like prey that has blindly wandered into a predator's den.
"Cat," I interrupt him but he just keeps going, ignoring me entirely.
"Humans think they're oh, so special, all because they're a rarity. Well, I'll say they're a rarity alright. I've never met a more foolish creature in my life, nor a creature as defenseless! It's a wonder that humans haven't gone extinct!"
"Cat, I think we should go b–..."
"And their voices! Their horrible, dragon-like roars are all they can muster it seems. What happened to the beauty of elegant speech, hm? Does it disappear with them? I suppose it does since they all talk in the same awful manner. It's quite–..."
"Listen to me!" I scream, and for the first time, Cat acknowledges my existence.
"'Listen to me!' It screeches," Cat mocks me, laughing with a throaty chuckle that should most definitely becoming from a full-grown man and not a small cat.
When I realize the distance between Cat and me is widening, I catch up to him, desperate not to be left behind. I fall into step beside him, but he is quick to hasten his pace to pull himself ahead of me. Scoffing, I easily match his pace, which makes him turn his head to look up at me. His human eye and feline eye stare at me, narrowing slightly.
"For the sake of Bestias, I give all my star-crossed wishes toward the end of all humans, especially this one."
Multiple lines crease across my forehead as my eyebrows shoot upward. "I've fed you like a king and given you a place to stay. What about that possibly warrants you to want me dead?"
A low hum of thought comes in response to my question before it is filled with words, "No reason is needed to desire the end of another. If you wish it to be so, then you do, and if you don't, you don't. It's as simple as that. But, humans always love to overcomplicate things with their feelings. I'll tell you, we higher beings don't need such–..."
He stops in both his tracks and his sentence after we pass through a grassy clearing. The clearing is surrounded by a ring of dead trees. Their bare, brown branches reach high into the sky, twisting and curling as if they are trying to capture the twinkling stars above. It's odd that only the trees that lay at the edge of the clearing are dead. Something had to have changed in the environment, but as far as I can tell, nothing is different about the forest.
There is something off about Cat though. His mutters no longer flow through the night air and into my ears, nor does he move forward. I take a hesitant step toward him. More steps follow until I'm in front of him to see that he's frozen. His mouth is slightly open, as though more mutters might come from him, but that cannot happen, not when an arrow is nestled into his chest.
In the aftermath of his death, remains his open set of unblinking eyes, stuck on their focus to the left. A sort of sickening feeling envelopes me as I recognize a tinge of terror in his human eye. Slowly, I turn my body in the direction in which his eyes are staring, then I too turn into nothing but a mere statue.
"I never would have thought that you would wander into the forest tonight," Aeolus smiles in the face of my frozen terror as he swings down from the branch of a tree. He lands before me gracefully, "And..." His blue eyes scan his surroundings, then return to me, "...you're all by your lonesome."
He raises his hand, splaying his fingers outward and to the stars like he's mimicking the tree branches. The moonlight from above makes his eyes glow, though it is not beautiful in the slightest. It's just purely terrifying, as that glow is the same as the one in the eyes of the creature I had imagined when I had wisely feared the forest.
"The stars whispered to me," He tells me as he drops his hand to rest it upon my fang-marked shoulder. The sting of Dorian's mark shoots up my muscles and through my neck, making me wince. "They whispered of the weakness of the fangs."
"The weakness of the fangs?" I quietly echo, unable to settle the curiosity within me.
Aeolus squeezes my wounded shoulder. The sudden pressure ripples through my upper body and down to my legs. My knees shake, daring to give out from underneath me. I attempt to keep myself upright. For, the moment I let Aeolus tower over me, I will surely be done for.
Unfortunately, the skin of my knees meets the unforgiving ground, and a sharp point presses to the center of my throat. I tilt my chin up to the sky, afraid to even swallow in fear of the arrow cutting through my skin. My eyes find Aeolus' malevolent ones that almost appear to be laughing at my demise. His attention falls down to the arrow his hand is holding against me.
"One slight push and this arrow will dive through fragile skin and tissue," He explains, slowly beginning to add pressure to the arrow. A warm liquid, that can only be my own blood, trickles down my neck. "You wouldn't ever be able to utter another fragment of a sentence again. Do you wish to lose your voice or keep it, human?"
No answer comes from me, except for the glare that I muster in my eyes. That glare wavers upon the feeling of a foreign object beginning to enter my throat. I swallow and pain erupts in the form of licking flames that travel down my esophagus. Tears prick at my eyes as I'm left with no other choice but to speak through the agony.
"Keep..." I struggle out, only to have the arrow dig deeper into me. "Keep, keep, keep!"
Desperation reaches my vocals at the steady increase of pain in my throat. I internally shun myself for giving in to Aeolus when his lips crest into a wicked smile that surely was crafted in the depths of hell.
"Then, say my name," He instructs me in a low whisper, still holding the arrow flush to my bleeding neck.
If all I need to do is say this elf-on-the-shelf-on-steroid's name, then I'll do it without any ounce of hesitation. "Aeolus."
Though, in my haste, I neglect to remember that the name of an elf is not like the name of a human. It is a powerful weapon that can make a storm come rolling in or cause a dragon to wake from its slumber, all because it was said by another. Only when a howling gust of wind sweeps through the clearing, do I realize this. In a vain attempt to escape, I go to run but the wind encircles me, forcing me backward and into Aeolus. His hands trap me against him as the wind roars louder.
Through the sound of the wind comes my scream, "Dorian!"
My cruel, hopeless reality sets in as I helplessly struggle against Aeolus. No one is coming to save me this time. Not Dorian, Callon, or anyone else. This is a battle I will have to fight on my own, but it seems I have already lost it.
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