Bound To Cazmus

CHAPTER ONE "Chantelle, why must you put up a fight, you know you will not win. It only angers him and you know the outcome of his anger. How do you think it makes me feel, your brother...I'm the one that has to clean the blood from your body, the one that has to look at those wounds–" "I'm fine, Maxwell. I just–" "No, you're not, you're not okay, I'm sick of your lies, Chantelle. You're eighteen years old. You've been here since you were eight years old, you've been used by him since you were sixteen. You cannot hide the fact you want him dead. Just as much–maybe even more than I do. And as your big brother, I'm going to get you out of here one way or another." "Silence yourself, Maxwell. If he hears you plotting his betrayal, we will both perish," I cautioned, glaring at him as I hoisted my gown over my knees and stormed toward the closet to grab a new pair of stockings. The mere thought of my brother's death was unbearable. Orpheus would kill us the second he found out. Even if Maxwell was his right-hand man, he could easily replace him. "I don't care. Your safety is all that matters. I will end him tonight, the moment midnight strikes. And you must flee, never looking back, cross the border, and you will be safe. They dare not pursue into Dramér territory; they would perish in the attempt." "You should care, Maxwell, you have a family, a wife and two children! Don't be selfish and get yourself killed. Orpheus will kill your wife, he'll turn your daughters into s*x workers for the werewolves, and they'll end up just like me. I'll do it. I have nothing to lose, Maxwell. If this doesn't work out, then so be it." Maxwell's eyes held a pained expression as he averted his gaze from me, his fist clenched tightly. It was clear he had more to say, but he chose to let it go. With a nod, he reached into his bag, retrieved a sharp wooden stake, and handed it to me. "Once you cross the border, seek out Prince Cazmus. Tell him Queen Victoria and Duke—" "Prince Cazmus will kill me; it would be like walking into a lion's den, Maxwell." "No, he will listen to you if it's about his father. King Voltaren's death is what changed Cazmus. Queen Victoria has bound Cazmus to her with his father's blood. She controls him, and as you know, only the Dramér bloodline can control other demons. She's manipulating Cazmus with magic, aiming to take over Calzaer. She attempted this with King Voltaren's dragon, but since dragons are linked to their masters in mind, body, and soul, she perished alongside Voltaren." I struggled to comprehend the situation. The witches and sorcerers remained concealed, moving in silence with a barrier that rendered their scents undetectable. Cazmus had induced a deep slumber in his dragon, Calzaer, due to its sense of his rage, which led it to destroy anything in its path until Queen Victoria intervened. It seems she compelled Cazmus's obedience through blood manipulation, which would explain her survival against all odds. Cazmus harbored intense animosity towards Victoria for usurping the throne following King Voltaren's demise. Subsequently, Cazmus endured centuries of torment and numerous assassinations attempts as a child. Victoria's lifeline was the blood of Dramér, extracted from Voltaren, which she ingested, allowing it to assimilate into her bloodstream, bestowing upon her Voltaren's powers. "So, by aiding him in liberating himself from his mother through her demise, and by dealing with the sorcerer who provides her the blood... why do you wish this of me, Maxwell?" "If you succeed in positioning Cazmus on the throne, he could release us from the werewolves' grip. We could be a family once more. Moreover, he might liberate you from Orpheus, should you request his mark. Then, free from Orpheus's shadow, you could forge your own path." As I prepared to respond, the sound of hastening footsteps prompted us to compose ourselves. I quickly stashed the wooden stake back into his bag and made for the door. "Master Orpheus grows impatient; descend immediately," a servant bellowed from the stairwell. "I'm on my way," I replied, then turned to Maxwell, planting a kiss on his cheek. "Stow this beneath the sofa, at the edge, and stay safe, Maxwell," were my parting words before I left. I had an inkling of how this night might unfold; Orpheus's behavior was all too predictable. "My dear..." That detestable voice summoned me the moment I stepped into his study, where he and three other men were seated, each cradling a glass of his preferred red wine. Their leering gazes stripped me of my dignity. "Master," I acknowledged, positioning myself on the floor beside his chair. Orpheus indulged in a vile fantasy; he treated me as less than human. He forced a collar around my neck, demanded I sit and sleep on the ground, and even compelled me to crawl behind him before an audience of werewolves. "You're acquainted with these men, Frank, Danny, and Jef," he stated. His brothers. They bore a familial resemblance, though Frank was blond, Danny dark-haired, and Jef's hair was white. Their eyes shared a deep green hue, lined with wrinkles and crow's feet, betraying their mid-sixties age. Orpheus, several centuries their senior, paradoxically appeared the youngest. His golden hair and youthful, muscular frame belied his true age. I loathed him and his cruel practices. "I am, master. It's a pleasure to see you all once more," I replied, forcing a smile of feigned delight. However, Orpheus perceived the facade, his hand descending to clasp my wrist tenderly, yet his grip conveyed a starkly different sentiment. "Did you put those stockings on? You know I love them." He whispered, pulling me onto his lap, his face buried into my neck as he wrapped an arm around my waist. I swallowed back the vile that raised within my throat. I could feel his fingers trailing up my dress, pulling it up to expose my stocking. "Yes...master." "Very good...we were just talking about them, my brother's, they wish to have a look. Why don't you be a good girl and give them what they want?" Everything was a blur after that, I only knew he was upset, so upset that I told him I didn't want to... he wanted me to give myself to his brothers. But, I couldn't, not again, I was tired of being forced. He beat me...used me, repeatedly that night. Until I felt numb. Until I stopped fighting him, and blacked out. When I woke up, he was on top of me, sweat dripping down his neck, as he grunted, he welcomed himself in me...on the living room floor, near the front door, just as I predicted. "Marbella...My sweet, sweet, pet." He would whisper in my ear, his voice was haunting, it sent shivers down my spine. Fear would paralyze every inch of my body. I could barely breathe that night, his hold around my neck blocked my airway, My nails clawed at his wrist, as tears pricked at my eyes. A sob pushing past my lips. Hearing him call me the name he picked out for me, the name he told me to go by. It made me sick to my stomach. "O-Orpheus- Please...I-I." "Oh, Orpheus, I promise I won't do it again, I promise I'll stay and be a good pet, Master–Enough with the empty promises, you'll say it and then turn around and do it again." He mocked my words from earlier,his green eyes growering down at me. A look of hatred filled his eyes. "I do not enjoy beating you to the brink of death, Marbella, I just yearn for your respect, you should be grateful I saved you from that rotting cell, the least you could do is obey me, Marbella." Before he could even finish, I reached for the wooden stake that was hidden underneath the sofa and pierced his heart, not deep enough to kill him, I didn't have enough strength for it, but it was enough for me to push him off of me and stand, I didn't bother putting my clothes back on. The haunting memory of his expression from that night eluded me. I struggled to recall the details of his face, yet his visage appeared in my dreams, an unsettling blur with a devilish look that lingered in my mind. However, I vividly remembered his prone figure on the floor, clutching his chest as his pallid skin took on a purplish hue, etching an unforgettable image in my memory, as he reminded me."You can't run, Marbella...I own you, we are connected– BY BLOOD, BY SOULS!" He shouted as I sprinted out of his palace, tears running down my swell, brushed cheeks. "You are mine, Marbella. No matter where you go, I'll find you! You ungrateful–" That night, I ran for my life, crossing the border in hopes the guards wouldn't kill me the moment I crossed. However, I fainted the second I was over the border.