Chapter 17

Alaric

Blood. Darkness. War. 

Three things that define me, and so I live to invoke such fear in people, a means of having them crawl back to me.

"Rule with cruelty, wickedness, and valor, it's the only way to survive," he often says.

Father, of course, and so I had to push myself beyond limits, slay as much as he desires just so he'd look at me, just so he accepts me.

I deliver death on his behalf because some folks don't deserve life.

Anyone who is a bother, meets their ancestors.

However, having this little rat in my arms and how clingy she was in the early hours piques me.

From the first day we met, she's been my frustration. Isn't she scared? 

She has never bowed to me, always tried her stupid, useless fight that turned me on.

I should have killed this pathetic girl who appeared in front of me, almost dying from the poisonous snap of the fraea.

But no, she's just another laboratory rat who will run wild and lose her sanity eventually.

She'd end up killing herself, like the others.

Now she's staring with those innocent eyes that render me speechless. 

She can't recall the drama she displayed and the dagger she used to slit me on my arm, thinking I'm the dragon that wants to attack her.

Her eyes settled on my arm several times, an indication that says I should back off.

I still have her drool all over me, her tears which soak my skin, and that hair which she constantly flung at my face when rolling around.

Annoyingly, I took my arm off her and said;

"Get off my bed"

She flutters her eyes, amused and her lips part softly. 

The pulse in her neck betrays her calm, quickening in time with the faintest flush on her cheeks.

Why's she still in that position, catching the moment?

"Don't get me pissed off over this!" I bark emotionlessly and wonder why I haven't engulfed her in a fire yet.

She rolled off, acting all clumsy and just moving backward, my shirt on her looks like an oversized gown.

She's so tiny and breakable. Her eyes didn't leave me and I'm like a new discovery to her.

I hate the fact that I keep meeting up with her and I'm sending her to the east wing.

Besides, she's a slave. My eyes followed every movement of hers and then I could sense grey from outside.

He's coming. I snapped my finger.

"Use the back door," I ordered in a low tone, and she picked up fast, running like her life depended on it, and then vanished.

A few seconds later, Gray stomps inside my room, looking all charged up and I growl, having to look at my image on his face.

"Do you have a death wish!" I roared and he quickly threw his hands up, switching back to his normal form.

He's a shape-shifter and always likes to impersonate me, except this time, he has fringes covering those eyes.

Now he looks like himself, a kid with dark hair.

I rose up from the bed, feeling heavy and having no thoughts in my head, except the fact that a woman's earring is laying on my bed.

I took off my mask, straining my shoulders and placing it on the desk adjacent to the bed before staring at gray.

"My baby is dead, Alaric," he complains in a sober tone, and the dark rings around his eyes prove he has cried.

His hair is ruffled from the fingers he had run through it several times.

Pathetic. Having to babysit two people today isn't something I signed up for.

He spread his arms for a hug, and I brawled with him, making him whimper. I'm not interested in his tale.

I hate that pet of his.

I do need to hunt with my dragon or I might pour my frustration on him.

"He is my emotional support, and a girl killed him, that slave who runs about like a homeless soul," he furthers, crossing his arms on his chest to console himself.

Her face suddenly flashes before my eyes, too perfect, too intoxicating, and yet somehow marked with stains.

Her honey-drenched voice that could cut glass, her body mingling with mine as she scooped herself closer to me all through the day for warmth.

It's...what do I call it?

The fire in my chest flares, cutting through my lungs as his voice didn't even register in my head.

I hate her kind but she's an intriguing puzzle.

"Alaric, I want you to serve me her head as a gift..."

"Grow up, gray, you're not a kid anymore," I cut in, and stomped towards where he stood, but he moved aside, swallowing hard.

I paced to my shoe shelf, to grab something that would cover my cold feet while that wailer cries in my ears.

"You promised father you'd do everything for me..."

"Not keep up to your stupid demands" I grunt, taking out a pair of boots from the shelf to wear.

There was silence, and when I turned to look at the 18-year-old, he was kicking his feet, wriggling his tail, and swearing in silence.

"You can do anything you want to do with her," I said, and he pivoted to look at me.

His face brightens up with a riveting excitement. 

The corner of his lips twitches upward in a ghost of a smile.

"But?"

Now, his face has a deep frown. I paced closer to him, and he staggered back, trying to avoid being close to us.

Heaving a sigh, I maintained the distance, putting on that cold facade, just the way I have been groomed.

I intend to touch him, but I can't because my touch is deadly to living things, and his soul will snap out.

That's why I always wear gloves. I cleared my throat, as his expression only proves I should complete that line.

"Don't make her lose any of her body parts, don't lock her up with dragons again, and..."

My eyes darken at him as I feast on the horror that curves on his forehead.

"Don't make her cry"

He furrowed his brows at me, puzzled as the rules didn't even favour him.

"What? Then how do I get my revenge?"

"Figure it out, it's your thing" I mused, wanting to end the conversation quickly.

He rolled his eyes in sarcasm, but then he gasped as though an idea had popped into his head.

Rather than giving him room to voice out his heart again, I moved towards the armory section in my room to carry a crossbow and arrange some arrows.

"Alaric! You're not wearing your gloves!"

I nod, quite bewildered by his assertion. Do I need to wear gloves when inside my room?

He was suddenly searching around to find something, then he jumped on my bed to snatch the earring from it.

He waves it at my face, with surprise clothing him as his mouth drops.

Not that reaction like her.

"A woman was here"

I still nod, quite confused by his thesis and whatever he was trying to buttress.

Arranging arrows in the quiver, I tend to ignore him until he says;

"Where's her corpse?"

I dimmed my eyes and then widened them. Did I touch that girl with my bare hands?

Gray flickers his eyes at me, waiting for a response as I run my fingers through my hair before they connect with my face.

It's not true, it can't be. Maybe I took the gloves off after she left.

"Is it the wolf girl?" He pressed on, so concerned as panics flushed him.

I raised my palms to my face, breathing hard and still shaking my head with doubts.

"No..."

"Yes! We have to kill her Alaric, the prophecy can't come true"