Chapter 4

Ronan Canavaro sat at the council high table with his fingers brushing against the spot where this human had just slapped.

It was the first time in centuries since anyone, let alone, a lowly human dared to raise an arm against him.

“So, the girl possesses the rare blood we seek, you say.” Elder Meredith drawled out, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

The rhythmic tapping of her fingernails against the mahogany heightened the tension as all eyes from the round table stayed fixated on him. Ronan looked up, his expression hard as he leaned forward.

He cleared his throat, then spoke up. “Her memories could not be erased. Her mind could not be controlled. That’s nowhere near possible for a mere human.”

“And you’re certain that your powers weren’t weakened at that point?” Elder Darius chimed in as the corners of his lips lifted, but only for a brief moment.

“You know damn well that this has nothing to do with my powers.” he seethed, slapping his palm against the table. “Corvin witnessed the whole thing!”

“That would be enough.” Elder Meredith called out, silencing them before the situation escalated.

She looked towards Ronan who sat with his head bowed, fuming as he clenched his fists. Her eyes were filled with uncertainty, because for all she knew…Elder Darius could be right.

“We can’t be too sure.” She said, her expression softening after a long moment of stillness. “Get a sample of her blood before noon tomorrow. That’s the only way we can confirm,”

“And you. Darius,” she said sharply, her eyes sweeping over Elder Darius’ face. “Know your place. Especially when addressing his Majesty.”

A glare was shot in her direction, but Darius knew better than to open his mouth at that very moment.

“I’ll take that as my message being received.” she smiled mockingly. “That would be all for now.”

She waved her arm, dismissing everyone.

Ronan stormed out of the room in fury as memories of the conversation replayed in his head.  He hadn’t gotten too far from the room when something, or rather, someone slammed hard into his chest, before toppling over.

On the floor, a man who looked no older than thirty-five cowered in fear as his eyes met Ronan’s. 

Amon—an infamous vampire hunter that had been terrorizing vampires in the human realm.

He stayed frozen on the spot, caught between the choice of fleeing and pleading for mercy.

A few seconds later, the sound of footsteps dragging against the carpets on the wooden floorboards caught Ronan’s ears.

He turned around to see Corvin heading in his direction, while two guards dragged a woman, whose face was beaten to pulp along the floor.

“Your majesty,” Corvin addressed with a bow.“We found the one who ratted us out to Amon and his men.”

The guards tossed her at the feet of Ronan, who looked down at her with a glare.

“One of the maids. Turns out she was paid a hefty sum and a bunch of false promises to sneak Amon and his men into our world.” 

“And who was the fool who authorized her passage through the portal?”He questioned, folding his arms across his chest.

  

“No one. She stole the key when no one was watching.” Corvin replied. “What would we do with her?”

Ronan stared at her bloody lips and swollen eyes for a long while. Under his menacing glare, she looked anywhere but his face, fiddling with the hem of her gown as she awaited her verdict.

“She won’t be used as prey in our feeding ceremony,” he announced.

The maid’s eyes widened in surprise. Her shoulders sagged like a weight was being lifted off it.

“T-thank you, your majesty. I promise–”

“She's going to be turned into one of us.” 

His words sliced through the air, creating another wave of tension. Her lips trembled and then slowly, tears streamed down the corners of her eyes.

“Not by bite, but by a ritual. One which would kill her the moment she tries to betray her kind. Same goes for him.” 

Her arms tore off the grip of the guards and clung tightly to his feet.

“Your majesty, Please! I was only trying to get back to staying with my family.”

Ronan's upper lip curled into a sneer, before kicking her arms off his legs. 

“Take these two away from my sight.” he spat, turning away.

As they were both being dragged away, strings of curses and violent sobs broke through the hallway, but Ronan ignored it. Marching towards the one person that had been in his mind.

He stopped in front of a room, buried deep at the east wing of the castle, where his quarters were located far from where anyone stays. 

He reached into his pockets for the key, about to shove it into the keyhole, when the door creaked, hanging slightly ajar.

He was already moving before he'd finished thinking. He pushed open the door, as his eyes frantically swept over the empty room.

“I made sure to seal off the damn windows and she still escaped?!” He yelled, slamming his fists into the wall.

Ronan found the thread of Corvin’s mind like a pulse.

‘She escaped. Make sure she’s nowhere near the ceremonial hall.’

‘We have left the premises. It would take a while.’ He linked back.

“Freaking hell.” Ronan cursed under his breath.

His feet took him faster than the speed of light, dashing in and out of every room in the east wing of the castle, but still, she was nowhere to be found.

While running through the castle like a mad man, a hollow cold void made its way into his chest as the ground grabbed his shoes like he was running in quicksand.

“No, no, no. Not now.” he complained as the walls that once blurred beside him began to shift into focus.

Now, weakened, he was left with the strength of his legs and the adrenaline flowing through his veins.

His heart thumped as he dashed through the hallways, the ceremonial hall door now coming into view.

The door slammed open before he even touched it.

“Stop!”

All heads turned to the door, each face hidden behind a mask.

The metallic scent of wine mixed with blood, filled the air, almost making him drool on the spot.

The gathering before him bowed their heads in synchronization, acknowledging their king, but his eyes looked straight ahead, colliding with the teary ones of Blythe seated on the stage with her arms and feet bound by chains.

Beside her, a vampire stood frozen with his head bent at an angle that gave enough access to sink his fangs into her neck.

He walked to the center of the room, stopping inches before the two.

“Touch her,” he said, quieter now, and somehow worse. “And I’ll make sure your bloodline ends with you.”

“Y-your majesty. I never knew—”

“That you were about to mark my feeder?” he completed.

Blythe's head snapped up

Feeder?