His Lycan Princess | 18+

Death Comes Forth

Clinging to the edge of the pit, my world teetered on the precipice of an unforeseeable dilemma. Was I safer inside the pit or outside of it? It was hard to tell. The forest went deadly quiet. No birds dared to chirp, no bugs to whir, even the leaves on the trees had stopped rustling. The only thing that stirred now was the mist all around me and the fear inside my chest. I couldn't shake the dread coiling within me as I awaited the enigmatic being that emerged to answer my cry for help.

The silhouette drew nearer. My heart raced in my chest as uncertainty flooded my thoughts. What loomed before me? A predator, an ancient spirit, or something far more sinister entrenched in the shadows of this eerie forest?

As the figure approached, my apprehension soared. Every fiber of my being wished I could retract my screams, my fear surging as this unknown entity paused at the mist's edge.

I finally beheld what stood before me, and a whimper escaped my lips. “Oh, my Word.”

The being was a vision. It was otherworldly, unsettling, eerie, something neither wholly human nor of the mortal realm. The entity, mysterious and haunting, leaned on the pit before me and extended a long, bony hand toward me. It wasn't a human hand—of that, I was certain. The thin, elongated fingers curled and extended themselves like the legs of a white spider, the nails at the end of the blackened, scorched fingertips were curved like talons or like hooks capable of shredding flesh, of spilling blood. Only something carnivorous and voracious would be armed with these lethal things. My widened eyes looked further and further up at the slender shoulder and the ashy neck of the creature. Whatever it was, it was a beautiful and perilous being that stood there, naked, yet with an unsettling, ethereal allure. If I didn’t know better, I’d have mistaken it for a woman. Her body, pale and slender, lacked any sign of hair, her features appeared both delicate and eerie. Her slender, pale frame was marred by intricate red marks, interweaving lines ran along her neck, her arms, her flat stomach and they went all the way down to her reddened s*x, while intricate circles created an odd and haunting pattern around her breasts and her bruised n*****s. She exuded an eerie sensuality and an undercurrent of danger. I caught myself staring, and she caught me staring too. She tilted her head to the side and her crimson eyes, ringed in black, sparked with intrigue. Or with something else. An unnerving thirst, a craving like that of the falcon that has spotted a little worm writhing in dirt.

I was no fool. I recognized her as a forest creature, not mortal, something primal and dangerous. Something that could tear me apart with so much as a flick of her black talons. Despite the terror coiling within me, the imminent threat of the pit dragging me to an unthinkable demise made me hesitantly reach out and take her hand.

With unexpected strength, the creature started hoisting me from the pit. The more of me she pulled out, the more of me the mud pulled in, and the heavy cloak fastened around my neck only managed to make my rescue a challenge. Gasping for air, I undid the button that held the hood and the fabric around me and let it sink into the murky depths. Finally free, I surfaced from the pit and in this moment of vulnerability, I stumbled, trembling and exhausted, and felt in the arms of my savior. She held me close, murmuring soothing sounds as I wept.

“Thank you, thank you,” I sniveled. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d be dead by now.”

She had saved me, and yet, being in her arms felt like jumping in the embrace of Death itself. Her skin was cold to the touch as if no blood cursed within her veins, as if the heart inside her chest had long seized beating.

Was she… was she dead?

Or, worse, undead?

Was she a…?

As I lay in her arms, the creepy vampire woman emitted a guttural sound, almost a growl, as she sniffed my naked neck and placed a chilling kiss upon my skin. I shivered as her mouth opened, feeling the graze of two cold, sharp fangs, eliciting a mix of fear and an odd, tingling sensation.

I pulled back but she held me firmly and she didn’t let me go anywhere. I prepared myself for the bite, the pain, the blood. The abbess had shared with me and the other Slevorian girls as much of the knowledge of the supernatural as she could find in her books. I knew a werewolf’s bite on the night of the blood moon meant he’d chosen a soulmate, and I knew a vampire’s bite mean the victim would die and rise as the undead, eternally seeking blood, the source of life the dead no longer possessed within themselves.

I couldn’t let her bite me, and yet I couldn’t escape her either.

I wished I had my stone still clutched inside my fist.

I wished I had my dagger.

But above all else, I wished Bane was here.

Suddenly, the sound of a snapping twig made both myself and the immortal woman shift our attention towards the mist. Two more hauntingly pale women materialized through its undulating veils, coming forth like the fearsome horsemen of the apocalypse.

“Who is that sister?” asked one of the newcomers.

I cleared my throat. “I–I am Celine,” I said, sensing three pairs of red eyes, the color of bloodthirst, on me. “Of Slevoria.”

“You are far far away from home,” cooed the second newcomer. “Celine of Slevoria.”

“Whatever are you doing here, dear?” whispered the third one to my ear. Her cold breath hit my skin like a breeze that made me quiver. Her long and bony fingers stroked my hair and back, but the gesture offered me no solace, but worry. “Don’t you know the forest is deadly for mortals such as yourself?”

I was well aware of that. I didn’t choose to enter the Mistbound Forest. What I decided was to exit it. They were on my way.

She went on, hissing: “Soft, warm, fragile, pretty little things like you don’t stand a chance in this place of death.”

“Do you wish to die, dear?” asked gently one of her vampire sisters.

“All you have to do is ask,” said the other sister.

I shook my head. “No, no, please. I want to live.”

“Life is overrated, it’s so brief, filled with so much pain, and loneliness, and grief.” She stuck her long, dark, serpentine tongue in my ear. “Come with us.”

“Be our sister,” chuckled the other too. “Be our sister.”

The vampires, with their haunting features and unsettling allure, stood before me, extending an invitation to an afterlife intertwined with the mysterious and unknown. I stood at the crossroads of two divergent worlds, with decisions looming, each one carrying immense consequences.

As I gazed at these enigmatic entities, torn between the known and the unfathomable, I found myself questioning not only my own existence but also the very essence of the reality I once knew. The weight of their proposal lingered heavily in the air, whispering of a destiny both mysterious and terrifyingly enticing.

The realm of the supernatural beckoned, offering an inexplicable connection and a sense of belonging amidst the eerie and unknown. Yet, the comfort of familiarity and the pursuit of a mission dear to my heart tethered me to the mortal world. I knew the answer. “Life, I chose life.”

Two of the vampire sisters cast knowing glances at one another, an air of mischief swirling between them as they leaned in and shared a kiss. The meeting of their mouths was a dance of desire, one sensuous form melding over the other, a choreography of passion and dark allure. Their full lips ignited a rare fervor, their sharp fangs peeked from behind their lips, their black serpentine tongues touched and intertwined. It was perverted, sick, yet oddly erotic like an invitation to an arcane world, a realm where norms were twisted and redefined, where darkness and beauty became one.

They were so gentle with each other, so lost in this kiss. Their marked breasts rubbing against each other, their red n*****s caressing, their beautiful curves coming together like the pieces of a puzzle. The crimson lines streaking down their lower stomachs extended to the hairless parts between their thighs, where their folds and lips opened to one another, revealing their wet little clits that glistened like fiery rubies waiting to be treasured.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of them and yet I was too embarrassed to keep staring. I was no voyeur. I averted my gaze and unwillingly looked right into the face of my capturer. The third vampire sister.

“Join us,” she said, her voice a sultry whisper. “And you shall have anything your little heart desires.” Each uttered promise was accompanied by a delicate kiss. She kissed me on the cheek right next to my mouth, which thrilled and unnerved me. Why were all the non-mundane creatures behaving like I had given them my permission to kiss and pet me, to do with me anything they pleased? “Riches,” she swore, and the second kiss traced the contour of my jawline. “Jewels.” The third kiss was gently placed upon the side of my neck. Only a thin layer of prickled skin separated her fangs from my pulsating vein. I froze. “A castle.” The next kiss landed on the little hollow at the base of my neck. “Blood.” Her soft lips parted with a bewitching hunger and embraced the exposed skin near my collarbone. Her tongue came out and stroked my neck all the way up to my mouth. I gasped, surprised, shocked, and the vampire took full advantage of the little opening of my gaping mouth. She covered my mouth with hers and stack her tongue inside me, expertly exploring my mouth, my tremor, my taste. I tried to push her away, but she held me in place. I tried to tilt my head back, but she grabbed a fistful of my hair and kept my face to hers. I had no choice but to bite her. I sunk my teeth into her lower lip and I did it. She jolted back, completely caught off guard and her lips curled into a malevolent smirk.

“Biting into people’s flesh already, sister?”

“I’m not your sister,” I spit out.

The other two vampires had reached us, they extended their hands and started touching me like I was a mere exhibit in some macabre gallery of horrors. They felt the smooth skin of my arms, the trail of my spine, the texture of my hair.

“Get your hands off!” I snapped, but I couldn’t have been half as threatening as I intended, for they simply ignored me.

“Get your hands off!” she mocked. “You won’t be allowed to say these things to Kraven once we take you to him, so you better practice your submission, sister.”

“What? Who the hell is Kraven?” I breathed.

“Master Kraven,” said the other two. “The Vampire before all Vampires. Our father, our creator, our lover.”

I steeled myself and tried to sound as defiant and sarcastic as grandmother usually was. I had taken after her, and if I were to die, I’d want to do it in a way she’d be proud of me. With sharp, witty comebacks against these undead f***s. “I think I’ll pass,” I said. “You can keep your sickening, blood-loving, necrophiliac incest tendencies to yourselves. But thanks for the offering, anyway.”

“Unfortunately for you, it’s one of those offers you can’t refuse.”

“Oh, piss off!”

I saw them close in on me and I knew it was coming; death. The air crackled with an unsettling tension, their forms a menacing triad looming over me. Panic surged within me, constricting my chest, as their intentions unfolded in the chilling gleam of their bloody eyes.

Before I could even muster a scream, they were upon me, their touch was cold and clammy, just like their lips, which pressed with an icy urgency against my skin.

The sensation of their fangs puncturing my flesh sent a searing shock through me, a blend of excruciating pain and an inexplicable rush that rendered me immobile. The metallic tang of my own blood flooded my senses, the biting chill of the air heightened by the warmth draining from within me.

Each sister took her fill, a terrifying yet eerily synchronized dance of feeding. One bit my neck, one the tender flesh of my side breast, the other my thigh. The world around me wavered, the edges blurring as the shadows closed in, and the strength within me waned with each greedy draw they took from my veins.

“Please, please stop,” I begged, sobbing. “I don’t want to die.”

“Shh,” hissed one of them against my bleeding skin. “Just a little bit more.”

That’s what was needed? Just a little bit more until I was dead? How little was left exactly? I felt my life slipping away, a horrifying realization that compelled me to fight, but there was no more fight left in me, to resist, but I couldn’t find any resistance. I was too weak, too tired. I was ready to succumb to the void that beckoned. As my vision dimmed and my body surrendered, a wild roar resonated in the forest. “Keep your f*****g fangs off my mate!”