A/N: So, just like all the other specials, this is going to be a pretty dark ride! This will be the start of Wolfe's backstory and will be pretty long. I'm probably going to split the whole special into three parts or something~
Don't read the next sentence if you don't want any spoilers, but, just in case, I put a warning for what this special will have.
For this special, expect a lot of depression, mental illnesses, heavy child abuse, and basically a whole train wreck of stuff! I warned you ahead of time...
Please enjoy this chapter though!
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Wolfeskikblokasretinhas juin Drakon ilun Escallopinuous Foxitilium le Roi's POV
My father was a strong king.
He was a werewolf with dozens, if not more, long deep scars over his body that proved his strength and battle prowess.
A werewolf.
This meant that during the day, he seemed nothing more than a physically capable man.
But under the moonlight, he would become a beast—his skin transforming into tough hide and thick, sharp fur while the rest of his body warped into that of a fearsome wolf.
My mother was also a werewolf.
Albeit she wasn't as powerful as others, she was strikingly beautiful with her long flowing red hair and her eyes that nearly dripped of honey.
They were the king and queen of Macrog, the country of demons, devils, and all evils.
When I was born, there didn't seem to be much wrong.
I was a healthy young boy who took after his mother's appearance, having both her red hair and golden-honey eyes.
My father, the king, in his joy of being able to conceive a boy on the first try, granted me the name of Wolfeskikblokasretinhas, which meant "sharp-eyed wolf" or "intuitive wolf" in the ancient language.
I have no idea why I had been given such a name, but it wasn't like I had a choice in such a matter.
Then there was the customary ceremony in which my green eyes would be granted to me.
Green eyes were not hereditary.
They were a curse.
After a king or queen births a child, they had exactly one year to grant their child green eyes through a ritual before the king or queen died from a heart attack.
Their death would then prompt their child to receive green eyes, which meant, either way, the child was going to get green eyes whether their parents died or not.
But this was closely guarded information that was only known to the royal family and close confidants.
Thus, my father bestowed green eyes upon me without too much hesitation.
It wasn't too difficult really.
All that was left for me to grow up as a fine werewolf worthy of the title of the crown prince of demons.
But instead of growing as a werewolf, I grew up as a healthy vampire.
Which could only mean that my mother had committed infidelity.
How could a vampire be born from two nearly-pureblood werewolves otherwise?
I could only have been an illegitimate son.
My parents had a political marriage that involved no love, so it didn't come as a surprise to my father that my mother would have done such a thing.
My father didn't love my mother.
But at least he loved me, his son.
Though, that all changed when he found out I wasn't his son.
Everything he ever felt for me through our father-son bond was replaced by shame.
He had given green eyes, proof for the right of the throne, to a b-stard child his wife presented him.
.
.
.
My dry throat tightened and I nearly cried from the constant voice in my head that was practically ordering me to drink.
There was a wine glass in front of me filled to the brim with deep thick red blood.
My mouth watered at the sight of it; my fangs instinctively appearing as the sweet smell wafted up my nose.
"No. I can't. Mother and father will hate me," I whimpered.
In my mind, everything was dyed red.
My hands were red, my clothes were red, even my eyes were red now.
No.
I picked up the wineglass and threw it on the floor, letting it shatter to pieces on the ground and splashing its contents everywhere.
My head ached and buzzed from what I had done.
I'm not a vampire.
I can't be.
I'm a werewolf, just like everyone else.
Mother and father will love me.
But even though I had smashed that glass of blood to pieces—emptied its contents on the ground...
The smell of blood continued to draw my eyes onto the red puddle on the ground.
My body grew unbearably hot.
My body began to shiver.
And finally, my mind went blank.
The next thing I knew, I was on the ground on all fours, licking the blood straight from the floor.
Just like a dog.
Sharp broken shards of glass mixed with the blood cut and sliced my tongue, my hands, and my knees as I hungrily drank up every last drop without stopping.
So good...
It tasted so good...
It tasted so good that my whole body went numb in ecstasy.
It tasted so good that I cried.
Cried over the fact that, in the end, I was only a slave.
A slave to a cup of blood.
.
.
.
Before my father could make a new, legitimate heir to the throne with my mother, he died from assassination by the time I became just barely seven-years-old.
Which meant, there was no other heir to the throne than me, the only one with green eyes but no blood ties to the royal bloodline.
"Are you kidding me?! There's no way we can put that kid on the throne! He can't become king!" yelled an older man to my mother, the current queen dowager.
"Do we have any other options? My son is the only one here with green eyes, and you know very well that only those with green eyes have the right to the throne," my mother scoffed in reply.
"He isn't even related to the king in any way though! He has no royal blood in his veins," he loudly retorted.
"He has my blood. That is enough," my mother replied sharply.
"It isn't. Without the king's blood, he's simply the son of the king's wife. It isn't the same. He has no relations with the founding family, due to your shameful mistake," he argued.
"So what if it is shameful? He is still the only heir with green eyes left. I understand that he is still a bit young to be the king, but I'll support him from behind and help make decisions in his stead," my mother replied calmly.
Under his breath, the man murmured something along the lines of 'you snake.'
In the end, my mother got what she wanted and I was crowned the king of Macrog.
I became the one-and-only king of all demons, devil, and evil at the young age of seven.
But at the time, I didn't understand much of everything, so instead of becoming a proper ruler, I became my mother's pet.
My mother had all the power and, in return for complying with her wishes, she gave me a steady flow of blood.
If I attempted to refuse her, she would skip weeks without giving me a single drop, letting me go slowly insane until I had no choice to drop to my knees before her and beg for forgiveness.
She would offer me mercy and slowly I fell into a deep pit of being tamed.
I was happy when I was rewarded and afraid of what would become of me for disobeying.
"I must be obedient. Just for Mother," I murmured on my knees with my head rested on my mother's lap as she sat on the throne meant for kings.
"Good boy. I raised you well," she said sweetly in that nasal tone of hers.
Yes, this was for the best.
Mother would love me this way.
.
.
.
"You want me to approve...you want me to make slavery legal...?" I asked my mother, who was smiling at me with a wide grin.
"Yes. Just imagine how much we could improve our economy this way. With free-labor from slaves, we can lower the price of the market and create a surplus of materials. Many of the other nobles agree with me as well. It's a good idea, isn't it?" my mother asked me gently.
I bit my tongue and hesitated.
"...But...I think-"
Whack.
My mother slapped me across the face full-force before I could even finish.
I looked up to her with wide eyes as she glared down at me darkly.
"What do...you think?" she said a bit darkly.
Immediately, I dropped to my knees and groveled before her, practically kissing the floor with my face.
"Mother. I'm sorry. I spoke out of turn. I'm sorr-"
She kicked me in the face and I could feel my nose break.
But the pain was nothing in comparison to the fear I felt because of what else she could do to me.
"M-Mother...I'm...sorry..." I whimpered and begged.
But it was already too late.
"Go to your room. We'll talk again when you've cleared your head," she said through gritted teeth, her nose flaring from anger.
"N-No...! Mother...please..." I cried, but she didn't give me another glance as she turned away from me and walked away.
My tiny child's arms were forcefully gripped from behind and dragged away, and I could do nothing but limply wait for them to throw me into my room forcefully.
They locked me away there in my room, which had not even one window for me to gaze out of.
It was dark.
It was cold.
It was scary.
And I was alone.
"Mother...I'm sorry...I won't do it again...So let me out...please...?" I whimpered as I scratched against the metal door of my room with my nails.
A prison.
It was just like a prison.
Soon, a day passed and I could feel my mind go a bit cloudy.
Thirsty.
I was so thirsty.
"...Mother...I'm sorry..." I cried.
From a small hole in my room's metal wall, maids would toss in bits of bread for me to eat and splash some water in for me to lick off the floor.
I tried a bit of it and gagged.
Foul.
Everything tasted so foul.
How was it possible for someone to feed off of these strange substances?
It was nothing like blood.
Nothing like sweet, savory blood that tasted of harmony itself.
Blood...
As I thought more and more of blood, my thirst continued to grow and grow.
And eventually, my body grew hot.
My throat tightened and my eyes grew blurry as I collapsed to the ground.
Hot.
My body felt so hot...so uncomfortable...
And my desire for blood went rampant in my mind, leaving me writhing on the ground with a fire constantly burning in my chest.
I grasped onto my chest with my hand.
"Blood...Mother...Please..." I begged, even though I knew no one would ever respond to my cries.
I bit and chewed on my lip, splitting it open, drinking the blood that spilled out even though I knew it would taste like nothing.
It wasn't the same.
I needed real blood...delicious...sweet...savory...blood.
My body began to sweat and convulse uncontrollably from the thirst.
The feeling of pure desire and heat overcame me.
And I felt like I was going insane from the never-ending torture.
This all happened on the first day.
And true to my mother's words, she would only speak to me again after I had truly learned from the terror of psychological torture.
By then, I had become exactly what she wanted.
Her dog.
In return for begging for forgiveness once more, she held it in front of me.
A single serving of blood...served in a dog bowl.
I didn't refuse it.
I begged for it.
I dropped on my knees and cried and begged for it...promising her to never get in her way again.
And only then did she place the dog bowl on the floor for me to drink.
I lunged for the bowl immediately, lapping it up with my tongue as my mother laughed.
"Good boy," she said as she stepped on my hand, which was on the ground, with the back of her heel.
"...I love you, Mother. I love you," I said blankly as I continued lapping away at the blood, having gone insane.
"I love you too, Wolfe," she chuckled in reply.
Blood...sweet...refreshing...good...so good...
There was no strength in my body left for shame.
All that was left was the craving for affection and blood.
The loneliness, the terror, and the sadness I felt mixed with the undying desire of blood was like a drug that made me go crazy.
A part of me felt addicted to it and another part of me wanted to die because of it.
I wanted to die.
But I craved for love...for acceptance...for my mother's hand that would always feed me blood...
And at this time, I was just barely ten-years-old.
.
.
.
"You must be perfect, Wolfe. You are a king," my mother whispered into my ear.
"Yes, dear Mother," I nodded blankly to my mother.
I had grown to be nearly 13-years-old, which was old enough for my dear mother to begin giving assigning lessons to me.
"You must be perfect," she repeated.
"Yes, dear Mother..."
She held a long metal sword with a smile.
"I love you, Wolfe," she smiled.
"I love you too, dear Mother."
Her words were as tempting and sweet as a demon's...which was fitting since she was the queen of demons.
And with her sword, she stabbed me straight in the foot.
"The first step...is to get you used to pain. So that you feel nothing, okay? Wolfe?" she asked me as she twisted the sword around in my foot, causing the greatest wound she could in one pierce.
"Y...es...dear...mo...ther," I gasped as I held myself back from screaming.
It would heal later in a few minutes, thanks to the vampire blood in my veins.
And once it healed, my mother would again stab me in the same place.
Over and over again, this cycle repeated for a full week until I truly couldn't feel any more pain in my right foot no matter how many times it was stabbed.
"Good boy. I'll reward you later, okay?" she grinned.
"Thank you," I said happily in surprise, my eyes brightening.
"I love you, Wolfe," my mother said.
"I love you too, dear Mother," I said.
I felt like I was being a good son for once.
Mother loved me.
.
.
A Few Months Later
.
.
"This is insane...it's not normal, your majesty. Why...Why do you let her treat you that way...?? You're...the king...right...?"
I turned my head to face the irritating palace maid that had started following me since a few days ago.
"There is nothing wrong. Get back to work," I said through gritted teeth as I continued on my way back to my room.
"Something is clearly wrong with this, your majesty. You just...let her stab you...? Repeatedly...? For days on end...? For what???" she said as she grasped onto my hand, stopping me from leaving.
"I am the king. Who gave you permission to touch me like that?" I growled as I faced her once more.
"A real king wouldn't be treated like that. Your mother...she's insane," the girl murmured.
I grew dark the moment she insulted my dear mother.
"How dare you...Who do you think you are...?!" I said loudly.
"I'm a maid, your majesty. And I've seen plenty enough to tell you that something needs to change," she said defiantly.
"Mother is extremely gracious and compassionate. If you dare say another word, I will smite you where you stand."
The annoying maid finally went quiet from my words.
But just when I thought it was over, she spoke again.
"Then kill me. I don't care. But right now, you need help...and I'm not going to stand down no matter how many times you threaten me..." she said, her voice shaking a little as she stood up to me.
She was short.
And puny.
It would only take a second for me to crack her neck in half.
I glared down at her, but she didn't run for it.
"...How annoying," I said as I bit my tongue and walked away.
I wonder...why I didn't just kill her then.
.
.
.
"You will practice with this, Wolfe," my mother said as she handed me the metal sword she had used to stab me with for the past few months.
"Yes, dear Mother," I nodded.
The sword was heavy.
Very heavy.
I had never held a wooden sword before, much less a metal one.
"You will become strong, Wolfe."
"Yes, dear Mother."
She stared at me with a soft look in her eyes.
"You must be perfect, Wolfe."
"Yes, dear Mother."
"I love you, Wolfe."
"I love you too, dear Mother."
Then, she left me alone...
...In a giant cage full of wild beasts tamed by her.
"Attack," she said when she finished locking me up in the cage along with the beasts.
For hours on end, the beasts bit into my flesh, but at that point, I had already lost my ability to feel pain.
Healing over and over again...no matter how many times the beasts ripped off my limbs with their teeth, they could never hope to compare to my inherited healing capabilities.
I charged at them, with my untrained hands gripped around a metal sword whose proportions weren't fit for me.
Again and again, this cycle continued.
But I was unable to kill a single beast.
And when the sun finally set, my mother opened up the cage herself and stared down at me, in tattered clothes soaked in my own blood.
"Dear Mother...I-"
She slapped me.
"...I'm disappointed in you, Wolfe. Not even a single one...?" she muttered angrily as she saw that not even a single beast had crumbled from my clumsy attacks.
"I'm...sorr-"
"Don't even try to make excuses. Excuses are for the weak and, Wolfe, you will not be weak."
"...Yes, dear Mother."
"You must be perfect, Wolfe."
"......yes...dear Mother..." I murmured and winced when she glared at me.
"Why are you so quiet?! Do you think even mice will lower their heads to you when you speak like that?!" she said loudly.
"I'm s-sorry...dea-"
She kicked me in the leg, and due to my fatigue, I fell to the ground.
"...So weak..." she murmured.
"...mother..."
"You must be strong, Wolfe. You must be perfect."
"...yes..."
"You are my illegitimate son, Wolfe. You can't be looked down upon. You can not shame me. You are the king. I gave birth to the king. So, you must be the perfect king. You must be looked up to. Don't you want to give your mother a good and easy life?"
"Yes...dear Mother."
"Go to your room and reflect there for a month. And when we speak again, I expect you to get rid of this awful personality of yours," she ordered coldly.
"Mother...!"
"Don't talk back to me!" she screamed as she pulled my ear and gripped it with her nails, causing it to bleed.
I went silent then.
Not from the nonexistent pain coming from my ears, but the fear that she would extend the time she had set for me to be locked away.
"Take him away," she yelled to nearby guards as they did as they were told.
A weak king with nothing.
The guards didn't even hesitate to drag me by the collars and lock me up in my room like a prisoner.
And when they closed the creaking metal door with a small clang, I was left all alone again.
In the dark.
With nothing.
Why...
Why can't I just be perfect like Mother wants?
Why can't I become good enough?
Why...won't Mother love me...?
"...Why am I so useless?"
Why...
Why...
Why...
"...It's not your fault though," said someone from outside my door.
I turned my head sharply toward the door in surprise.
Not once had anyone ever responded to my cries before.
I thought I was imagining things.
"You aren't weak. You're actually stronger than most of the people I met. Most people wouldn't be able to survive the mental and physical torture you've gone through your whole life, you know."
The voice was feminine and familiar, and it was a bit shaky as it continued to speak.
"You are good enough. You're really really really strong. And you're just 13-years-old. You just lack confidence, that's all. You should believe in yourself some more, you know?"
"...What are you talking about...?" I murmured.
"And you're not a bad son at all. You're a good son...a son who would do anything to make his mother proud. You just have a terrible mother. Anyone would be able to see that."
Her words were warm.
Very warm.
But they made me sick to the stomach.
"...Really...?" I asked out loud to the voice.
"Yes."
"My mother told me-"
"Whatever your mother told you was wrong."
"My mother is always right."
"You just think she is. But trust me. I have never met anyone fouler than her."
"Don't you dare insult my mother."
"I only despise people worth despising. And your mother. She is worth at least that much."
"Don't insult Mother!!!" I yelled at the top of my voice.
There was silence for a while, and I thought I had managed to scare the voice away—that she left after realizing that I was a hopeless cause.
...This was for the best.
"...Do you love your mom...?" the voice asked me all of a sudden.
"...Yes," I replied simply when I realized the person was still here.
For some reason...I felt a surge of relief when I realized they had not left.
When I realized I wasn't all alone again.
"No...I mean...Do you really love your mom...?" she asked me.
"Of course."
"Why..."
"...Well...she feeds me blood when I'm good."
"That's it?"
"And...And...And Mother loves me back."
"..."
"She cares for me a lot. Everything she does is to help me."
"..."
"Are...you still there...?" I asked.
"...Yes."
"...You should leave."
"No...This is so stupid. Your mother...What she gives you isn't love. It's obsession and greed mixed together in a smoothie labeled 'love.' It's not..."
"What are you trying to say right now?"
"Your mother. There's no way. She does not love you. She just says she does. She just wants to own you...like you're some sort of object. You don't even register as a 'son' in her mind. I mean-"
"Mother loves me. She said so."
"Your mother lied."
"..."
"I mean...even you. You say that you love your mother too. But...do you really love her...or are you just repeating it over and over again to please her...? To make her love you?" the voice asked.
Her words.
It felt like she was trying to unlock the secret little treasure box that I kept hidden up in my mind.
"No...I love her..." I murmured.
"Are you sure?"
"..."
"You hesitated, so I'm just going to take that as a no."
I didn't speak after that, and neither did she.
Time passed in utter silence, but it was actually strangely relaxing.
I assumed that the girl left...after all, why would she stay here with me?
Or at least, why would she want to?
In the silence, I let my mind drift off.
Mother...
Mother is my only family.
I love Mother.
I must love Mother.
That girl who spoke to me from across the door...she was confusing me.
She was leading me astray from everything I thought I knew.
Which meant, she was absolutely untrustworthy.
I can't trust her.
No matter what.
And then I drifted off to sleep.
.
.
.
For days after that, the girl would come to visit me, even though I begged her multiple times not to.
"GO AWAY!" I screamed from within my room.
My hand gripped my chest and I gasped to breathe.
Blood.
I needed blood.
"Are you okay?!" the girl asked loudly from outside.
"GET OUT. GET OUT NOW," I yelled.
My throat was tight and it became difficult to speak.
Her very existence was bothering me.
"You sound like you're in pain-"
"LEAVE."
"..."
And then I could hear her footsteps as she walked away.
My mind was melting into nothing but bloodlust and I collapsed onto the ground within seconds.
Blood.
Ah...How much I desired that girl's blood...
My mouth watered as I envisioned the savory-sweet taste fill my mouth.
The feeling of biting down into her flesh and sucking, letting the blood steadily stream into my mouth.
Fresh blood from the source.
I wonder what it would taste like...
How wonderful it would taste...
I felt my body melt away until there was nothing left but that voice in the back of my mind, tempting me with endless dreams of red.
Hot...My body was so hot.
As if an undying fire had been lit in my chest that was burning away all the sanity I had left.
"Are you still there?" the familiar feminine voice said from behind the door.
I snapped back into reality.
What was I thinking?!?!
Drinking her blood?!?!
"I...um...brought you something. I hope you don't mind..." she murmured, her voice sounding a bit hoarse.
"I told you...to get out," I said a bit darkly.
Why wouldn't she just leave?
Leave me alone.
This girl irritated me to no end and she had no idea how much I hated her.
Hated her for insulting my mother.
Hated her for talking to me.
For keeping me company.
For confusing me.
"Yeah...I'll...leave this here..." she said weakly as she opened up the small hole in my room's metal door and slid in a small cup.
A cup of blood.
Certainly, there was not much blood in it at all.
Perhaps it would only take two tiny gulps to finish the whole thing off.
But, to me, it was more priceless than gold.
The next thing I knew, I was already licking up all the contents of the cup hungrily, like a starved beast.
Blood.
Blood...!
It tasted so good.
So wonderful.
I had never tasted blood sweeter than this.
And even when I finished up every last drop, I continued to lick at it and breathe in its scent, savoring every last bit of it, until even the scent of blood went away.
"Are you...happy...?" the girl asked me from the other side of the door.
"More..." I growled.
The amount of blood given to me didn't satisfy me at all; it only made me crave for more.
My mind went blank now and I crashed into the door, slammed against it—doing everything I could to break it down and escape.
And the strength I inherited as a vampire actually managed to make a huge dent in the thick metal door.
"S-Stop! Wolfe, what will happen if you actually break out of there?! Your mother will kill you!!" the girl from outside yelled at me, bringing me back to my senses.
I collapsed on my knees again and groaned.
What was I even thinking...?
Control...
I needed control...
"S-Sorry...but you sh...ould go. I'm not...safe...right now..." I murmured as I bit my tongue to stop me from doing anything stupid.
"No. I'm staying right here, thank you very much," she said nonchalantly.
"What...?! Why?!" I yelled at her.
Did she not understand anything?!
"Because you'll get all lonely and sad again," she replied.
"I won't."
"You will. Trust me."
And with that, she stubbornly stayed by my side all night long as I struggled against my urges to break down that door, meet the girl outside, and drink her blood dry.
For the next few weeks, there was not a single day where she would fail to visit me and, each day she came, she brought a tiny cup of blood with her.
Each day, her voice became more hoarse as well.
I didn't question where she got the blood from.
I could more-or-less tell what she was doing.
I wanted to beg her to stop.
To stop feeding me her blood every day like this.
But every single fiber of my body screamed at me to not do it—that, if I did, I would lose my only source of blood and be forced to go through weeks of torture.
And, when she brought me her blood each day, I couldn't stop myself from immediately grasping the cup of blood with my hands and gulping it down quickly, savoring its taste, even though I knew I didn't want to.
I didn't want to.
But I had to.
Because that is exactly what a vampire was.
.
.
A Few Months Later
.
.
After I was let out of my room, I found out the identity of the girl who continuously fed me blood while I was locked up and spoke to me in my times of loneliness.
It was the annoying pace maid that I had met a few days prior to my imprisonment.
Her name was Diana, a strange name for a demon, even if she was quite low-level.
She had lovely green locks and crystal clear blue eyes with a smile that perfectly complemented her features.
Nowadays, I can't go even a single day without seeing her.
Even if we don't stumble across each other accidentally while roaming the large palace, before I know it, my feet move on their own and I find myself knocking on her bedroom door for a visit in the middle of the night.
Just like today.
"Your highness...? Is that you again?" she asked as she quietly creaked open her door to peek out at me.
The moment her eyes landed on mine and her lips uttered my name, my heart began to beat irrationally and I could feel my body grow hot as if every part of me was yearning for her.
Strange.
It was truly strange.
"You come to visit me quite often these days. Won't your mother kill you if she finds out?" she said in a low whisper as she quickly dragged me into her room, checking the halls to make sure no one was looking.
Her room was incredibly small and humble, which made sense since she was just a maid.
"I'll be fine," I said casually.
Of course, that wasn't true.
It took everything I had to make sure I was well-hidden when coming here.
If I was ever found out...
Mother might...
"So? Why are you here again? If you needed me, you could have just requested for me, you know," Diana said with a scary look on her face as she continued scolding me about how dangerous this was and how stupid I was acting.
I didn't pay attention to her words though.
I was drowning in the sound of her voice...the way her face scrunched up when she was mad...and the way she swung her arms as she clumsily expressed her anger.
"Do you get it???" she asked me once she finished.
"Yeah..." I said absent-mindedly, which she didn't let go unnoticed.
"Were you even listening to me?!" she yelled.
"Yep," I nodded.
She sighed and let me relax in her room quietly.
"Seriously...I'll only let you stay here for five minutes. I'll escort you back to back to your room," she said.
I wasn't paying attention though, because my eyes were drawn to a large scar on her wrist.
The moment she realized I was looking at it, she hid her hand away behind her.
"It's nothing," she mumbled.
"Is that how you fed me your blood?" I asked her, my irrational irritation rising.
"...It looks like you already know...haha..." she laughed awkwardly.
I envisioned her in my mind, taking a kitchen knife and cutting her wrist open, letting the blood flow into a cup for me to secretly drink.
Did she cry?
Was she scared?
Did it hurt...?
"Don't do that again. I'm serious," I growled, accidentally letting my fangs show.
"...sure," she said as she turned away from me.
"I'm not kidding right now," I said once more.
"Think about it reasonably. If that evil witch of a mother locks you up again, someone's got to feed you or else you'll go crazy. Who else is going to do it besides me?"
I ignored it when she insulted my dear mother.
I was used to it already...and for some reason...I didn't mind it too much anymore...
"That's not the poin-"
"That's exactly the point. Besides, it not like you can refuse it anyway, so just accept what you can get. You're not just going to waste the blood I put my heart and soul spilling just for you, right?" she asked me with a pout.
...She was right.
If she even waved a drop of blood in front of me, I would cave immediately.
I could do nothing to stop her.
Even now...my eyes were drawn to a soft spot on the side of her neck...
"Don't do it again, please. For me," I asked, this time more sincerely, with a pleading look in my eyes.
She didn't answer and opened her door.
"I think it's time for you to go now," she muttered as she pointed for me to leave.
And I did.
.
.
The Next Day
.
.
"Mother...wishes for my presence...?"
"Yes, she has called for you," a servant said with a small bow.
"Take me to her," I said calmly as the servant led me to the throne room.
Why would Mother ever want to meet with me at this time of the day?
Did she add another class to my schedule?
For some reason, the sound of my own footsteps sounded eerie today as if I were walking to the deepest pits of hell on my own two feet.
These days, I felt strange.
I used to absolutely love being in the presence of Mother.
But nowadays...it just wasn't the same.
I was filled with almost...a sense of dread.
It must be because of Diana...she had confused me too much.
And for some reason, I didn't even care that she did.
The hallways were dark and smelled slightly musty as the servant led me to the throne room door.
The giant door opened with a loud creak and I peeked inside to see Mother comfortably sitting in her throne with a wine glass in hand.
She was staring as I walked up to her.
"Good evening, Wolfe."
"Good evening, Mother."
"You may leave now," my mother waved to the servant, who complied immediately.
Then there were only the two of us left in the room together.
I gave a deep respectful bow to my mother, to which she only nodded in reply.
It was silent and she didn't say anything as she stared down at me.
The silence spoke volumes though, and I could feel a sudden chill go down my back.
"Wolfe," my mother finally said.
"Yes, Mother," I replied, a little stiffly.
"I heard you were getting along quite nicely with one of the palace maids."
And that's when my blood went cold.
---------------------------------------------------
A/N: Sorry, for ending the chapter a bit suddenly, but it was just getting WAY TOO LONG. Like dear goodness, I don't know I'm able to balance my schoolwork with this story every week like this.
Anyway, does anyone have a guess or a theory on what will happen in the next part of this special~? Well...I hope you can all agree on that: Wolfe's screwed.
Also, to all my dirty-minded readers, whom I know exist in vast quantities out there, have some holy water. You guys always manage to make the slightest remarks dirty so...I know what you all were thinking when Wolfe was getting...ahem...thirsty. ಠ^ಠ
Thank you to all my readers/voters/commenters and everyone who wished me a happy birthday last week! You guys were especially sweet and my mood has been great all last week because of it~ So, thank you!
Okie byeee!
Word Count: 5965