Sovereign of Shadows

5

"I remember my master," I began, my voice giving the best impression of a shaky one. "He would exchange blood with his familiars. It created a bond that granted both parties extra power and strength. Of course it also provides us with a willing bloodbag that always has our best interest and is physically unable of betrayal. But this bond is only possible with alphas." Jasper steps closer, his eyes narrowing.

"And you thought it was a good idea to do this to Oren? Without his consent?"

“The way I remember it, he consented all right.” Acting innocent is out of the window. “Do you want to hear the whole story of waking up to him with his hands between my thighs? I just took advantage of the situation.” Nelron holds up a hand to calm Jasper before turning back to me. "Why Oren?”

I tilt my head, a hint of amusement in my eyes. "Besides finding him dry humping me? I needed an ally and a food source, and I simply took advantage of the situation. Having s*x with Oren was just an added bonus," I say with a casual shrug. "It's just bad luck for Oren that he's a werelion. I had no idea I was capable of creating a bond, let alone have any idea of what will happen next."

Jasper steps closer, his eyes narrowing. "You're lying," he snaps. "Twisting the story to your advantage. Oren wouldn't lose his head like that."

“I really blame it on my undeniable charms.” I shrug. “ I guess it’s not the first time that someone underestimates me. It wasn't premeditated, just an instinctual act of survival."

Jasper's eyes flash with anger. "You expect us to believe that? Oren is stronger than this. He wouldn't be so easily manipulated." I try to catch his gaze, holding a depth of sorrow and experience, hinting at the many years spent under the cruel dominion of his vampire masters. He is successful in avoiding my gaze again and it frustrates me. "Believe what you want. The fact remains that Oren is alive because of the bond. If you want to help him, you'll need to accept that. I could have killed him just as easily." I hope if I can push his buttons further I can catch his beautiful eyes and compel him as well. I would have an easy job, his ashen skin is already clammy, his eyes darting around the room, his hand slightly shaking.

Nelron takes a deep breath, trying to process the implications. "Is there a way to break the bond?" I shake my head slowly. "Not easily. It would require killing one of us. Killing me might result in his death too, it really depends on how potent my blood is. But for now, Oren is alive because of the bond. That much, I can promise." Jasper's expression hardens, but he stays silent, his mind probably racing with the potential consequences. The man looks at me with a mix of suspicion and hope, searching for any sign of deceit.

"We'll need to think this through," Nelron finally says. "But know this: if you harm Oren in any way, we won't hesitate to end this. No matter the cost."

I keep my snappy retorts to myself. A familiar bond is a powerful connection between a vampire strong enough to create them and an absolute disaster to the familiars. It is a one sided thing, ensuring we are at the top of the food chain in turn, if we allow the familiars to occasionally drink our blood, they will become stronger and faster for a short period of time.

With the question of the familiar bond settled, Nelron continues his interrogation, his eyes narrowing with determination.

I raise my hands, the chains binding my wrists rattling slightly, sliding up. "If you want more answers, remove these chains," I demand, my tone firm. "They cause me to drain Oren further. I'm not completely heartless. Also they burn me every time I move my hands."

As I lift my hands, my naked body shows under Oren's shirt, and both men shift uncomfortably at my bold display. Nelron’s expression hardens, but he doesn't move to release me. Jasper’s eyes roam the skin shamelessly, his face one of pure disgust but his body betrays him. I can hear his increasing heartbeat. "The chains stay on," he says tersely. "We can't trust you yet."

“I think I have already proven you these “ I lift my hands further and Jasper swallows audibly. Nelron’s eyes remain on mine “do not stop me if I want to cause trouble. The fact that I allow you to question me proves my point.”

The warlock resumes his interrogation, his questions precise and relentless. "Tell us about Mercer. Where is he hiding? What are his habits?" I lean back against the wall, scooting backwards, causing the hem of Oren’s shirt hiking up to my thighs, my eyes sharp and calculating.

"Mercer is a creature of habit. He prefers the shadows, lurking in abandoned places where he can manipulate things unseen. His favorite hideout is the old manor on the outskirts of the city where you grabbed me." Nothing they do not know already. It is common knowledge where the coven likes to hunt and who Mercer is. At least it was while I was around.

Jasper steps forward, his face twisted with anger. I playfully c**k my head and snap my teeth to catch his eyes, a hint of a smirk playing on my lips as he flinches.

"Mercer thrives on fear. He enjoys breaking people, both physically and mentally. He’s particularly fond of psychological torture. He likes to keep members of his coven in a cell for weeks, feeding them just enough to keep them alive, but never enough to satisfy their hunger, up to the point until they go feral. He sends his thralls that he gets bored of to the cells to be ripped apart. I have no idea what was the place where we found you, I can only guess it’s another one of his creative punishments guessed by the placement. You are not important to him if he let you rot buried under his mansion so why don’t you make our job easy and snitch on him? I am sure he doesn’t even care that you are missing." He lies, I am sure of it. The man visiting in those visions, whispering sweet nothings into my ear, urging me to go home to him would never abandon me. It was an unfortunate misunderstanding or I must have done something really bad to receive such a harsh punishment.

Jasper's fists clench at his sides, but he stays silent, allowing the other man to continue."What about his weaknesses?" Nelron asks, his voice steady. "Mercer doesn’t have any," I reply. "He believes he is untouchable, that no one can outsmart him. And no one has. He is a thousand year old vampire master, owning most of the shifter clans in the city through his generals. He also has an army of thralls. What could his weakness be?” I give up no real information, nothing that is not common knowledge.

The interrogation stretches on for hours, Nelron methodically trying and failing in extracting every piece of information he can. I answered each question with a mix of reluctance and defiance, my eyes never leaving Jasper, ready, waiting for a lapse in judgment. As the hours pass, Jasper occasionally interjects, sharing stories of Mercer's cruelty, his voice filled with barely restrained fury.

"Yes, that sounds like Mercer. He revels in destruction. Now remove the chains, I am bored and hungry. The sun is coming up."

Nelron's patience snaps. He strides forward, his fury palpable, and cages me against the bed, his face inches from mine. "You told us nothing we don't already know," he hisses, his voice low and dangerous. "You can starve here for all I care, but I will make you talk. With Oren knocked out, nobody is here to protect you, and I can think of a few creative ways to make you talk." Jasper shifts uncomfortably, visibly unnerved by the warloc's cruel display. He looks away, his jaw clenched, but doesn't intervene. Feeling the heat of Nelron's anger and his body so close to mine, I decide to make use of the proximity. I focus my remaining energy, attempting to compel him with my will but as I stare into his warm brown eyes, something shifts. An arcane power begins to radiate from him, growing stronger and stronger, until it feels like the air itself is humming with magic.

The warlock unleashes his magic, trying to break my mind. His eyes, now glowing with a sinister light, bore into mine, and I feel a searing pain spreading through my skull. His power is now immense, an almost tangible force pressing down on me, threatening to crush my will. My vision blurs, and I fight to maintain my sense of self, clinging to the scraps of my fading strength rapidly being siphoned into the chains on my wrist.

I feel Jasper's resolve has weakened. He shifts from foot to foot, glancing between Nelron and me with increasing discomfort. I play into it the best I can, trashing and whimpering under his power. My eyes finally catch his for a moment, the seed of doubt is planted in his mind. It is just a faint suggestion that the sorcerer has crossed a line. I can feel the seed take root in his mind. "Your name," Nelron demands, his voice echoing through my mind like a dark command. I try to resist, but the unfamiliar power is too strong. Some of the barriers in my mind crumble under the assault of his magic, and the words slip out, unbidden. "Elara," I whisper, my voice trembling.

Nelron's eyes narrow, and he leans closer. "Elara," he repeats, testing the name on his tongue. "Now, tell me, who are you really?" Memories surge through me, a flood of images and emotions I can no longer keep at bay. I remember the night Mercer found me, a wretched, weak creature. He turned me, promised me eternity and power, made me his Bride, and for a long time, I was his favored. But I failed him, and my punishment was severe. Buried alive in a coffin, I was left to rot in darkness, haunted by the knowledge of my disgrace. I had upset Mercer, and the guilt of it gnawed at my soul.

Nelron's magic digs deeper, but I seize upon a chance to derail him. "I can give you something more valuable than my suffering," I gasp, struggling to form the words through the haze of pain. "Mercer's favored... I know where to find her." The warlock's interest piques, and the pressure on my mind lessens slightly. "Go on," he urges, his tone a mix of curiosity and greed.

"Her name is Lyria," I say, my voice gaining strength. "She was the one who put me in that coffin. She's the one you want. She knows Mercer's secrets, and she's vulnerable. I can lead you to her." Nelron's eyes flicker with consideration, and I sense a momentary hesitation. His grip on my mind loosens further, giving me a sliver of relief. He turns to Jasper, who is now watching intently, the doubt in his eyes growing. "Is she telling the truth?" Jasper asks, his voice uncertain.

Nelron releases me, straightening up. "We will find out," he says, his voice cold and calculating. "If she is lying, she will suffer a fate worse than death. But if she is telling the truth... we may have a valuable asset." As they discuss my fate, I draw in a shaky breath, the pain in my head slowly subsiding. I have bought myself some time, and perhaps, a chance to turn this situation to my advantage. Lyria is indeed a powerful foe, but she also holds the key to my redemption. If I can lead the hunters to her, I might find a way to regain my place at Mercer's side. Or, at the very least, I can ensure that my betrayal serves a greater purpose.

Nelron seems satisfied, a smug smile curling his lips. The man possesses a striking and formidable appearance, his face and body reflecting both his inner strength and the otherworldly powers he commands. His face is ruggedly handsome, with well-defined, masculine features that include a strong jawline and high cheekbones. His skin has a healthy, slightly tanned complexion, a contrast to the pale hue of my own.

"Jasper, keep an eye on her. We leave at sunset," Nelron commands, turning to exit the room. Jasper nods, though his eyes linger on me for a moment longer, a flicker of uncertainty still evident. As they leave the room, I become acutely aware of the lingering scent of smoke and brimstone in the air. It's not just the remnants of Nelron's magic, but something more potent, more sinister. I wonder what the source of the warlock's powers could be. The room falls silent, and I slump back against the bed, exhausted. The ordeal has drained me, but I know I must stay alert. I can feel the sun rising, its rays beginning to filter through the small window. I hope the light won't penetrate too deeply, knowing that even a sliver of sunlight can be painful, if not deadly, to me.

But as the minutes tick by, I realize I need more than just a plan. I need strength, allies, and a way to turn Nelron's power to my advantage. With the smell of brimstone still heavy in the air, I wonder if there's a way to tap into that dark magic, to use it against him and Jasper. The thought is dangerous, but desperation leaves little room for caution. The sunlight continues to creep into the room, casting long shadows. I retreat to the farthest corner, away from the window, and focus on the faint whispers of magic that still linger. If I can harness even a fraction of that power, I might stand a chance. Time passes slowly, and I hear the faint sounds of the keep waking up around me. Footsteps echo in the halls, and voices murmur in the distance. Jasper occasionally peeks into the room, his gaze cautious, but he doesn't approach me.

As the day drags on, I feel the familiar hunger gnawing at me. My strength is waning, and I need to feed soon. I silently hope for another vision of Mercer, that he will somehow be able to show me if my actions please him. I realize with a start that Nelron has left Jasper to guard me, a detail that had slipped past in the haze of my previous pain and exhaustion. The door isn’t locked, and it occurs to me that they must feel secure in their stronghold, the heart of the vampire hunters’ fortress. This could be an opportunity. If I can destroy it from within, I would surely gain favor with Mercer. The thought strengthens my resolve.

I focus my remaining, rapidly waning power, and begin to plant subtle suggestions in Jasper's mind. I need him to see me as less of a threat, to underestimate me. My mental energy is limited, but I push through, weaving a delicate web of persuasion. "You don't have to be so vigilant, Jasper," I murmur softly, letting my voice carry the weight of my enchantment. "I'm not going anywhere. Nelron's power is overwhelming, and I've learned my lesson."

I can feel the seeds of my suggestion taking root. He relaxes slightly, his posture less tense as I hear his heartbeat slow on the other side of the door. I have to be careful not to push too hard, to feign compliance without giving away too much. I sense my familiar bond with Oren, but it is silent, an unnerving void where there should be a connection. I need him for my plan. Without Oren, my chances of success are slim. I focus on the bond, willing him to wake, to respond. The silence is deafening, but I can't afford to lose hope.

Returning to Mercer with a powerful shifter, his lost thrall, and potentially Nelron would ensure my place at his side. Destroying his enemies from the inside is the ultimate prize, a way to redeem myself and reclaim my position.I glance around the room, realizing I need to clean myself up properly, have normal clothes, and most importantly, rid myself of the magic chains binding my wrists. They subdue my powers, and I can feel their oppressive weight sapping my strength. The light filtering through the small window burns and weakens me further, a constant reminder of my vulnerability. But first, I need to feed. closing my eyes and focusing on Jasper, who is outside, guarding the door. I plant my suggestions carefully, weaving them into the fabric of his thoughts like a delicate thread through a needle. I imagine him feeling the urge to help me, to see me as less of a threat, and more as a person in need of basic comforts.

I remember Mercer's teachings of patience. He always emphasized the importance of playing the long game, a lesson I struggled with but one that is crucial for a vampire. In my mind’s eye, I see him sitting in a plush chair by the window, the starlit city spread out before him like a glittering tapestry. His sharp, aristocratic features are illuminated by the soft light, giving him an ethereal, almost otherworldly beauty. His long, elegant fingers play absentmindedly with my hair, a gesture both tender and possessive. "Patience, Elara," he said, his deep, velvety voice filling the room, making me obey without a thought. "Our plans require time and precision. The world is not conquered in a day."

I was always mesmerized by his beauty, the way his eyes would glint with an ancient wisdom and dangerous cunning. His presence was magnetic, irresistible. Even now, I can feel the echo of his power, urging me to stay calm and focused. "Think of the long game," he continued, his fingers tangling gently in my hair. "Every move must be calculated, every ally carefully chosen. Impulsiveness leads to mistakes, and mistakes are costly."

You don't need to be so strict, Jasper. I just need some relief from these chains, some decent clothes, and nourishment. I'm not a threat. Minutes tick by, and I focus all my remaining power on reinforcing these thoughts. I picture Jasper's face, his uncertainty, and push a little harder, making my requests seem reasonable and almost his own idea.

As I sit there, regressed into my head, the sun starts to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows that begin to swallow the room in darkness. I hear the faint echo of footsteps approaching, and my senses sharpen, attuned to every sound. Through the thick walls, I catch snippets of conversation between Nelron and Jasper, who are now speaking just outside. Oren is still unconscious, they say. The stronghold's healers are working tirelessly, but the warlock is preoccupied with creating a magical ring, a device meant to suppress the bond between Oren and me. The mention of the ring sends a shiver down my spine; Nelron’s determination to keep Oren away from me is infuriating. The familiar bond, once a comforting link, is now a muted thread, strained and nearly extinguished by the pesky sorcerer’s dark magic. Jasper’s voice carries an edge of urgency. "We need to hurry, Nelron. If Oren remains under her influence for too long, he might become a mindless slave to Elara. The damage already done is substantial, might even be irreversible. We cannot afford to lose him. With Cosmo gone, the bears need to name a new leader but they need to wait for the next full moon to do so. Losing the lions too would cripple us."

Nelron’s tone is calm but firm. “I want more information from Elara about Lydia. We need to extract every detail and remove as many powerful players from Mercer’s board as possible.” I brace myself, knowing that they will soon enter the room. I need to build my facade of compliance and trustworthiness if I am to play my part in this intricate game.