All Chapters of Bloodbound: A Consort For The Vampire: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Caius' POV Vampires and humans alike smell death. Their brains process how it reeks of decay, rotting flesh, bowel movements, and lost hope. They all shy away from it, their inevitable ending. As a vampire, I can also sense the coagulation of blood, how it changes from a vibrant, warm flow of life to a chilled liquid with no purpose. That very smell is with me now. It settles just below my nose, curdling into an immovable presence, so pungent I can almost taste it. The further I move away from the lab and down the hallway, the stronger it becomes. The radio hisses against my hip. No updates have been given since departing from my dearly beloved. It is doing me more harm than good at this point, so I click it off. Faint shouts and cries of pain whisper in the distance. I carefully follow the sound, but the way it bounces and echoes against the walls causes bouts of disorientation to their source. It’s as if the very walls are taunting me. My frustration builds. The tunnels bre

Caius’ POV The whispered words, so soft and broken, slip past my impenetrable skin cells and reverberate against my bones. A chill follows thereafter, a foreign feeling. Oddly human. Perhaps a macabre foreshadowing of what’s soon to come – the experiences I will surely have once I am forced to take the serum.Caspian’s small mouthpiece picks up my human’s voice and carries through the chamber of hell. Beneath his sacrifice is a backdrop of agony, the cries and pain of humans and vampires alike weighing down the air like a living nightmare.This is no longer a war. A war implies two sides fighting against one another. What started as a war has turned into a massacre of two species, entirely. Caspian works his jaw tighter and tighter. He doesn’t anticipate this response. If he truly knew anything about my human, though, he would have expected this. Self-sacrifice and a bleeding heart are unique characteristics of my human, both his greatest weapons and biggest downfalls.“You’re not

Caius’ POV In Evans’ eyes lie the same message we have shared between one another for quite some time. A silent promise, to keep my human safe, no matter the cost. They move towards the door, leaving me, my human, Beau, Bonnie, another Secondary guard and Naman’s followers behind.Two of Naman’s followers begin to convulse. The third glances at his allies, and realization dawns. They drank their deaths. My human must realize it too, because another wave of sadness pushes through me in waves, emotional shackles that ties our bloodlines together. He hangs his head in defeat, but there are no more tears left to cry. Not even from my human.“Bonnie,” Caspian says, yelling over the painful cries of death from my fellow vampires. “Five minutes. No more.”Caspian then stares at my human, a look so feral and so potent that my fangs elongate in warning.“Consider these five minutes as my final gift to you, Kieran. An apology as well as a thank-you of good faith. By now, you must realize,

Caius' POV The words hang in the air between us, heavy and irreversible. My human's eyes hold mine with a certainty that makes my dead heart ache—if such a thing were possible. He has thought about this. He has considered the consequences. And still, he asks.“Change me to a vampire,” my human says again after a bit of silence.I continue to stare at him. The flickering torchlight dances across his features, illuminating the sharp lines of his jaw, the soft curve of his lips, the desperate hope burning in his eyes. He is so beautiful. So fragile. So utterly human in a way that I have come to cherish more than I ever thought possible.“Caspian is obsessed with me, and it's not just for my blood. He’ll keep me no matter what form I’m in, but at least if I’m changed, he can no longer use my blood as a serum to kill vampires.”“No, human. I cannot risk it.”The words come out harsher than I intend, and I see the flicker of hurt cross his face before he masks it. But I cannot. I cannot do

Caius’ POV Wind whistles across the field of grass. Each blade bends to its whim, the collective movement like a fluid picture beneath the summer's sun. It’s graceful, as a whole, but if a single blade was pulled and subjected to the breeze, it would tremble in disarray.Beneath the microscope of Nature, it would endure the humbling experience of isolation. A single blade plucked away from the rest. Exposed and alone. Hidden, yet longing to be threaded into the earth once again.My thoughts continue on in this fashion, poetically macabre in their own right. They press down on me like a weight, heavier and heavier, until the feeling of isolation turns inward, caving into my still heart, and forcing splinters of proverbial ice to form around its border. I shoulder through the threshold of the door. The wind continues its song around me, beating the flaps of my coat and coercing the tendrils of my hair to participate in the dance of life.I bend down and trail my fingertips atop th