Byhron
Finally.
The minute the order came from the messenger, Byhron had practically geared up and sharpened all his blades. He had been the first one ready to march out when the Lathra in charge, during Callath's absence, had pulled him aside and told him the three words that turned his gut to stone.
"You can't go."
Byhron glared in cold fury at the male. "What?"
"You heard me," Luhkas barked, eyeing him up and down. "You're injured and you haven't fed. Call one of the Kischmirs and sustain yourself, Byhron. What you're doing isn't healthy."
As the male turned on his foot to leave him there, Byhron grabbed his arm and clenched it, jerking him back. The male curled his upper lip back in a warning manner, but the threat skidded right off Byhron's skin. "Don't you dare lecture me, Luhkas. You know damn better than anyone that I'm fit for this; I'm going."
"You're not," Luhkas growled, ripping his arm free of Byhron's grip. "You're thickheaded and stubborn and you continuously disregard the feeding protocols. You must've fed twelve hours prior to heading out," He reminded him, staring him down with a hard look. "I know you haven't fed in days."
Byhron ground his molars. How easy it would be to just thrash the male and head out with the other Lathras. He was fine, he had fought battles on lightheadedness worse than what he was feeling now, and this was but a hunt. Walking. Talking. Occasional beating. A high profile female was missing and Luhkas wanted him to waste twelve hours resting, simply because he hadn't fed. Ridiculous.
"Don't bench me on this," He gritted out through his gnashed teeth, meeting the male's eyes with a firm hold. "I promise I'll feed the next time, just don't sit me out on this one." He ground his teeth one more time. "Please."
Luhkas shook his head and then squared his shoulders. "My word is final. Until you've fed and taken the proper time to heal, you're out, Byhron. Just rest," He said, now clasping his hand on his shoulder and giving him a more pointed stare. "Eat, drink, feed - fuck a female. When you're ready, gear up. I'll even have you march first line if you want to, but not before you're fit."
This time, the male gave Byhron one last hard stare before he turned on his heel and marched on, leaving Byhron shaking with rage in the barracks. The Lathras were waiting outside, all of them ready to march out into the villages and cities of Drala, to find the missing Lady Kahtrina.
All except him and a few other weak, injured Lathras who had been wounded prior to the announcement and were still regaining strength. The difference between them and him, however, was that Byhron could walk and talk, even if the occasional dizzy-spell rendered him a few seconds unsteady on his feet. It wasn't anything he couldn't handle. It was normal to him. Years and years he had done this. Only now in the moment it all counted, they decided to call him out on it.
Ridiculous. Fucking ridiculous.
Growling, Byhron turned on his feet and begun undressing himself from his layers of armor again, the leather slipping off his body and the metal wrist cuffs clattering to the floor. His chestplate he shoved onto the hangers on the wall again, before undoing his codpiece, throwing it away.
Ridiculous.
Roaring, Byhron punched his fist against the wall and then leaned up against it, breathing heavily. The world shifted for three seconds, his head begun spinning. For a moment, the rage disappeared and all he felt was the dizziness and the raw sensation scratching his throat, burning throughout his body.
Thirst...
Gritting his teeth, Byhron pushed himself off the wall and walked out of the barracks, keeping his steps as straight as possible. With determination, he headed down for the servant quarters, anger pumping through his blood.
They wanted him to feed? Fine. He would fucking feed. If it meant going out hunting - finding those fucking soul-corrupting mihr hunters - he'd recharge himself and wait until the fresh damn blood begun working. And then they'd have nothing to stop him with.
Nothing at all.
*
Gisela moaned softly as Byhron detached himself from her neck, licking up her wounds before drawing back and licking his own lips. His dulled body was buzzing and his head felt hazy. The fresh blood coursed through him and made him feel warm, replenished. But for now, weakened and tired.
"Thank you," He rasped and looked at Gisela - a Kischmir whom had volunteered herself upon his request to nourish from anyone of them - and watched as she slowly opened her eyes, biting her lips. She nodded back at him and smiled.
"It was my honor, Lathra."
Byhron nodded, then turned away from her, moving to his dresser to fish out a fresh cloth. He needed a bath. "You are dismissed then. Go get some sleep. Do you need me to walk you back safely?"
When he heard no reply, he frowned a little and then glanced over his shoulder, only to widen his eyes and then turn around completely.
Having opened her corset and allowed her fulsome breasts to be on full display, Byhron stared in shock as the female approached him, her hips swaying sensually as she did. "I was hoping I could spend the night..." She said, biting her lip again. Her eyes fluttered up to his as her cheeks stained. "Do you want my company?"
Byhron transfixed his eyes on her husky nipples that peaked in the cold air of his bedroom. The small pink buds pointed at him, tempted him, begged him to feed on them, too.
- Until the images flashed before him.
Naked, bruised and covered in blood and the semen of other males, he saw his younger sister lying on her old bed, crying so quietly and tiredly, sound almost didn't reach his ears. That image burned his retinas until he was forced to shut his eyes and shake his head.
When he opened them again, Gisela stood in front of him.
Silently, Byhron reached for her - seeing the spark in her eyes for just a second, until she felt him grasp her corset, watching him as he began tying it up again. Blinking confused and dejectedly, Gisela looked up at him. "D-did I do something wrong?"
"No," Byhron assured her, giving her a little smile. It was the honestly truth. "You are very beautiful, Gisela. Any male would be lucky to spend his night in your company."
If she looked confused before, it was nothing compared to what ran through her eyes now. "But... then why won't you..."
Byhron only shook his head, tying the last knot on her corset, before softly stroking her arms. He couldn't explain his reasons to her. She'd never fully understand. "Not tonight. I need my rest if I have to be fit for tomorrow."
Gisela's eyes softened and then a gleam of understanding lighted within them. She smiled back and Byhron could practically hear her confidence restoring itself; It wasn't her beauty that had failed her. "Oh, I see. My deepest apologies. I'll leave you to rest. Goodnight, Lathra."
Byhron nodded and then watched as she curtsied and then scurried to the door with a little smile. She carefully closed it, giving him one last smile, one he returned. The moment the door closed, though, it faded.
The female might've left without getting her feelings hurt, but Byhron had once again been reminded why he did what he did. That image of his sister was both his everlasting curse and his motivation; it empowered him every time he came upon a mihr hunter, every time he met a male that laid hands on a female who did not crave his touch.
It strengthened him. It weakened him. It tortured him. It made him able to torture back.
Tiredly, Byhron washed himself clean before he ventured into bed, laying himself down on his burly pallet, one arm over his eyes. The wound on his chest was already closing up, stinging as it braided itself together. By morning, he would've healed entirely.
Byhron let himself fall into a light slumber, keeping one ear in the conscious world as always. Never again would he sleep without paying attention to his surroundings.
Never again after that night.
*
Eight hours was as far as he could stretch it. By the streak of morning light, he had already been up for hours, tossing and turning on his bed. Finally, as dawn peaked in through the closed drapes of his small room, he sat up and started dressing. A Kischmir stopped by with a tray of breakfast which he quickly ate and washed down with a mouthful of water, before he then left his chamber and headed down to the barracks.
It was a quiet morning. The Lathras who had patrolled the walls to castle were coming back from their shift, tiredly yawning and not speaking as they undressed and headed back where Byhron came from. Byhron himself didn't speak either, simply changed into his leather armor, checking his weapons before putting on his metal. He was strapping on his chestplate when a voice from behind him broke the silence.
"It hasn't been twelve hours yet."
Whipping around and instinctively reaching for his dagger, Byhron pressed the blade to the throat of whoever had creeped up on him, only to find himself pushing a Kathmir up against a wall.
Him.
"You," Byhron snarled, giving the male a shove, pressing the blade harder against his throat that now jagged itself up, straining. "You don't fucking seem to get the concept of a promise."
Ahrron grunted slightly and gritted his teeth as the blade cut into his skin, drawing a single drop of blood from his vein. It pebbled down his neck. "I work here, just like you. It's impossible not to run into each other."
Byhron scoffed at the male and curled his lip back, just slightly so the Kathmir caught a glimpse of his extended fangs. The male zoned in on them. "Then I suggest you start fucking defying the impossible. Don't talk to me. Don't look at me. If you see me, turn and walk the other way."
"Why do you care so much?" The male countered, flinching when Byhron dug the blade deeper into his skin, watching as more blood pebbled out. "If you... don't care a single bit about me--"
"--I don't."
"--then why are you so obsessed with my fucking presence?" Ahrron bit back and cocked a brow. Byhron curled his lip further back when Ahrron stuck his jaw out and narrowed his eyes. "Well?"
Byhron growled lowly at the back of his throat, but let the male's word register. Why did he care so much?
Because he's too fucking intrusive. He sticks his nose where it doesn't belong.
That much was fucking true. Byhron therefore hissed and gave the Kathmir another shove before drawing back, letting him sag against the wall, breathing hard. "Just keep away from me. Next time it won't be your throat my blade pierces," Byhron warned him, sheathing his dagger back into his belt and turning back to his armor.
Ahrron snorted and rubbed his throat, watching his fingers come back with red. "Pussy..."
Byhron whipped back around, eyes blazing. "What did you say?"
The Kathmir's lips twitched. Slowly, the male straightened out and fixed his robe. "Nothing."
"Damn right nothing," Byhron warned, now turning back again to his armor once more. With an angry hand, he grabbed his wrist cuffs and slid the first one on.
"But like I said, it hasn't been twelve hours since you fed. You did feed, right?"
Byhron closed his eyes and took a deep breath. One... two... three... seven...
He opened his eyes again and then forced himself to focus on tying his cuff as he replied. "You need to shut your mouth right now, unless you want to lose your tongue." He could just cut it out. It would make the male so much more pleasant company to be around. All that silence...
He could practically hear the male roll his eyes behind him. "Fine. It's up to you. Go hunt while your body is still charging. It'll just mean I'll be patching your body up again when you come back."
Byhron moved so fast, the Kathmir never stood a change. He had spun around and fired his fist into the pit of his stomach before the male even fully finished speaking. He lunged over forward and choked on his breath, but didn't get a second to recuperate before Byhron thrust his knee into his abdomen as well, doubling the blow. The Kathmir lost his balance and sunk to the floor.
Anger dripping from his fingertips, Byhron gripped the male's hair and wrenched his head backwards while Ahrron clutched his stomach, out of breath. His eyes only just cracked open before Byhron rammed his fist across his cheekbone, causing the male to let out a pained hiss. His head whipped to the right and he fell down sideways onto the floor.
Byhron straightened himself out and towered above the male who laid groaning on the floor, struggling for his breath, his cheek already puffing up. He watched him for a second, then placed his foot on his shoulder and shoved him onto his back. The Kathmir only hissed slightly, but then opened his eyes and looked up at him.
His dark orbs were expanded, yet as forest green as always as they stared up at him with a challenging look. Even after that beatdown, he looked like he was fishing for more. Byhron gritted his teeth and considered following up on his wish.
All the things he could do to him...
Snapping out of it, Byhron stepped down on the Kathmir's shoulder for a moment, hearing him grunt in pain as his shoulder blade dug into the stone floor. He then removed his foot and straightened out as the male exhaled in relief. Without a word, Byhron then turned around, grabbed his other wrist cuff and stalked out of the barracks, not glancing back after the male who remained lying on the floor.
Maybe that would teach him to watch his fucking mouth.