Slaying the Blood King

♤•Chapter 11•♤

My eyes blink against the light of the sun as I stare out into the expanse of the village. Green grass dances against the cool breeze. In my home realm, this would feel like spring. I suppose it is no different here. The willow provides a nice shade against the sun, which I've learned hurts the fey more, and that is why we wake at night. The human part of me longs for it's warmth. It longs for me to go out into the sunshine, taking in the greenery.

I look towards my door, listening to the silence. Everyone is asleep by now, the only noise being the bustle outside as nature follows it's normal routine. Though it isn't convenient, I want to explore; I want to get a feel for what this world is like.

I rise, dressing in my sparring uniform, before hurrying out into the corridors of the willow.

All is silent as I pad down the vine toward the first floor. The Fey sleep during the day, and though I had become accustomed to the sleep schedule, the thought of not being able to save my people has had me anxious. Every step I take shoots pain from the muscles in my calves, reminding me of the sparring Albesk and I have endured the past three weeks. The pain helps keep my mind at bay, and my improvements have kept my spirits high that I may be fit enough to be an assassin in five months. The thought alone makes me thing of him.

Antonious has barely summoned me the last few weeks. All conversations had been kept brief. It kind of hurts in a way. I really started to feel something, but in my heart, saving our people is more important than romance, but damn, every time I look into his eyes, I'm reminded of what I miss. There is really nothing in the world that can make me feel the way he does. Even Albesk trying to cheer me up with his cocky attitude does barely a thing to rid myself of the depression I feel. It's as if the life was sucked away from me.

"Where are you going?" his voice calls from behind me, as if my mere thoughts of him could suddenly summon him. I turn around and find him staring at me, a hint of interest in his amber eyes. That is all he gives me though; no smile and certainly no nearness. It's as if the mere sight if me has pushed him away.

I shrug, casting my gaze in mock-annoyance toward him. "Why does it matter, sire?" I ask him. The tone of my voice causes his eyebrows to knit together, and I can tell I've already pushed some buttons. Good, I think inwardly. Let's see how he deals under pressure.

He doesn't respond. In fact, I find myself giving a small yelp when he slams me against one of the walls in the corridor. My heart begins to pound as he stares at me with such intensity; causing me to squirm under the weight of his hands as they press me into the wall.

"You're right. I am the 'sire'. I'm whomever I damn well please to be. So when I ask one of my subjects where she is going, as her sire, I believe I deserve the answer," he whispers threateningly close to my ear. I give an involuntary sudder. Not because his voice scares me, but because it doesn't. In fact, I feel more aroused by his sudden closeness it almost feels wrong, and by the way he keeps staring from my eyes to my lips with such intensity, I'd be foolish to believe he didn't feel the same.

Clearing my throat, I address him. "I was just going to step out to enjoy a bit of the morning. I really needed fresh air," I said, staring intently into his eyes. A small smirk plays at his lips then, and before I can say anything, he has my hand and is pulling me back up the vine.

"Where are we going?" I ask. I stare at his jawline from behind and notice the slight smirk playing on his lips. "You'll see," he says.

When we pass his room, I start to question everything, then quickly scold myself when I realize where my thoughts had taken me. We go so far up that the walls start to narrow, causing us to have to side step the rest of the way. It feels like it goes on forever until light starts streaking the walls yellow, when suddenly, we are standing out in the open air overlooking the whole forest around us.

Colors of green, pink and yellow jut out everywhere as the leaves and buds of spring furrow out around us. The sun barely streams through the willows's branches and leaves, and a cool breeze starts tossing my locks of hair into the wind. My breath catches at it's beauty.

"It's beautiful up here," I say, turning toward Antonious. I find his eyes are already there to meet mine, as if he had been staring at me instead of the world below. "It is," he starts. "I often come up here when the sun rises to see the beauty in the day. There is so much bustle and bother that we miss when we sleep. I appreciate the gifts Mother Moon has graced us, but sometimes, finding the light of day has a more calming effect," he finishes, holding my gaze with his intense amber stare. I can only nod in response, letting the music of nature and birds around my lull my mind into a daze.

"I love it," I finally say, keeping my gaze out into the woods. When I look above the tree line in the expanse of the blue sky, I find my eyes landing on a spec. The spec seems to grow, and grow. At first I think it's a bird, but as it drawls nearer, I realize that I am terribly mistaken. Gigantic wings start to take form, and before I know it, I'm whisked into the tree, being pulled by a very frightened-looking Antonious.

"What is it? What's going on?" I ask hurriedly as stumble down the glowing vine within the tree. My heart pounds in my chest, knowing something is amiss. I barely got a glimpse of the object flying toward us. Antonious doesn't answer. Instead, as we descend further into the willow, he knocks on every door, shouting repeatedly that "we are under attack!" Everyone starts filing down the tree one by one. Finally, having had enough, I yank on Antonious's robe, causing him to stumble before turning to me. "Tell me what's going on. I need to help," I tell him.

"There's a dragon outside," he says exasperated. "We are under attack."