Chapter Twenty

The ground is scraped from where Julius was thrown. He stands beside the General's unconscious body, surrounded by his guards. He wants to kick at the dirt, tempted to hit him, but he knew the moment this male woke up, all hell will break loose from him and his father. The Mage's house crumbles, a billow of dust settling around it. The moment she was freed, the mansion his father conjured up broke apart.

The Yelkites start to move and Julius stands beside the General's body with his arms crossed. The first one jumps up and snarls at him, kneeling beside his commander. He pulls out a vial from his robe, a bright purple liquid that is dribbled into his mouth. The General coughs, sitting up. His eyes open and narrow in on Julius standing over him.

"Once again, the girl is gone on your account. This time I saw it happen," the General snarls, standing up, "You let your feelings for the human cloud your judgements."

Julius felt the relief of her escape flow through him. The pile of memories that flicker through his mind a reminder to why his father and his allies should never be trusted. Not that he ever did, but now he knew for sure. "Yeah, sure. Blame this on me. What did you guys think would happen if you stampede towards the Mage's house?"

"We own her," the male hisses, stepping closer, "She should've stood down and allowed us to take the human."

The own part of the sentence bothers Julius, but before he could retort back, two Yelkites seize his arms. They pin them to his sides where he can't move them and the General gives a satisfied grunt. He tries to push them off, but their grip gets tighter and the other Yelkite shakes his head.

"To the palace we go." The General orders, laughing as he watches Julius struggle. "You can explain to the King why we failed to bring in his prize."

The Yelkites shove him forward and they start walking, Julius trying his hardest to push his heels into the ground beneath him. The memories push at him, the ones of his father in his younger years. The missing memories and why Callista is so important. Royal Werewolf, the last heir. Though that isn't entirely true due to Marcus still being a forced ally to the kingdom.

People line the sidewalks as the make their way back to the palace, concerned faces of the Outlaw Village fill his vision. Some are cruel and bitter as they take in the small group of them as they walk by. They enter the looming gate of Yelkite Barracks, where the other two groups are situated. Jacob and Davis look tense, their arms pinned at their backs as well.

A bigger Yelkite stood beside the group, his arms crossed with a frown. A spiraling tattoo maps the left of side of his face, disappearing underneath his collar. Julius felt his breath leave his body. He never once met the leader of the Yelkites, always assumed he never existed. His dark yellow eyes pass over the dragged prince and nods his head in respect to the General. He grinds his teeth together, hoping to ignore the pinch of hatred that floods him.

They start to walk by, but the Leader of Yelkites move to match behind them, a lazy smile playing his lips. They make it to the entrance to the palace where the doors swing open. De ja vu rolls through him as he gets pushed through the doorway. He hears Jacob cursing and Davis grumbling behind him. In the hallway, stands the king. His face is caught in a sneer as he watches them pile in. At his side is a teenage boy, dim red eyes looking over him. A smirk recedes over his face.

Julius feels his body seize at the eyes on him. This boy is dangerous and cruel, but he isn't sure on what he is. He looks like a normal teenage boy, but the red eyes that stare at him seem to go through him. He stands right beside the king, like he was born for it. A shadow drapes his shoulder like a scarf, sending a memory of the illusion he tried to play on them.

The King watches them as they come closer and his dark grey eyes rest on his son. He shakes his head, his lips tightening in a thin white line. He wanted to leave, but he feels the hands on his arms and shoves him to kneel before the king. He crosses his arms over his chest and looks down on him.

"How can I have you as the Heir? You are irresponsible," his father mused, walking forward, "I cannot have you in my throne if you are not fit to rule this kingdom."

Julius tenses, his back straightening. The hands restraining him push him into the ground. He feels the hot breath of the Yelkite guard on his neck as he leans back to loosen the hands with no avail.

"But Father—"

His father waves him away, disgust evident on his face. "I am tired of hearing your excuses, son. This is the last I will hear of it," he stands next to the Leader of the Yelkites, "You three are officially labeled as traitors against the Kingdom. You will each abstain twenty lashes two days from now."

"No!" Julius roars, lunging, "They had nothing to do with it!"

The King laughs, getting into his face. "You think I care? We need blood for the trouble you caused. You lost your sacrifice, and you managed to let the Witch escape. Do you know how many years I spent chasing her down? The last witch alive and you lose her?!"

The anger that radiated off of him made the Yelkites shift on their feets. The anger Julius is used to, but not the full rage that takes over him. His father lunges, his hands wrapping around his son's neck, choking him. Julius grunts, and manages to stay upright, though he felt the pure strength in his hands. No matter how Julius thought about challenging him, he often forgets he is king for a reason. The General steps closer to the King, mumbling low in his ear. Julius couldn't hear because of the blood rushing to his ears.

The hands release him, and he stumbles back a few inches. His father's chest is heavy and blind fury is like a fire in his gray eyes. A smirk crosses his face before falling back to a blank canvas. "Fine. I do not care whether all of you go underneath the whip, or just you, but someone is paying."

Julius grinds his teeth together. "Just me."

He crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes hard and cold. "Then you will receive eighty lashes."

Julius almost choked in surprise. He quickly did the math in his head, the three of them would've received twenty each. So, wouldn't that mean he would receive sixty?

The King tilts his head, his eyes studying as if challenging him to correct him. Julius bit his tongue, knowing the bit of danger he will put his friends through if he opens his mouth. A smirk is fleeting as it crosses his face, but his eyes flicker to behind his friends to the double doors. "Take them down to the dungeon. Follow on the same meal plan as the other prisoners."

Julius grits his teeth and hands drag him to the left, to a door that is hidden by a blanket of magic. When he is shoved through, a sense of dread is a cold feeling in his veins. Something in this basement doesn't settle correctly, but the Yelkites didn't care. They found a concrete wall and push him into it. He slips through without a problem, a set of bars materialized behind him. The two Yelkites smirk and share a look but allow the block of concrete wall fall into place. Darkness falls around him, his eyes adjusting fast. The silence encases him, surrounding him in a bubble.

∞†∞†∞

Julius doesn't really know how much time has passed since his father stuck him and his friends in the dungeon. He remembers the look on his face when his looked over his son's shoulder before he was escorted away. The concrete walls are cold to the touch, but for vampires, cold didn't bother them. He is laying down, staring at what he believes is the ceiling. He vaguely thinks about the little girl he saw in this dungeon years ago, something that put this whole thing in motion.

Her frantic face, full of hatred and rage when he refused to warn her parents due to his loyalty to his father. He was young then, too taken by his father and his glory as king. A pulse of pain snakes its way through his head. He flinches and lets out a low moan as it seems to build. The memories of that night came in flashes, like it was giving him time to remember. The way he backed up his father to this kidnapped little girl of the rival.

She was brave, even then. Swearing her parents wouldn't take the bait. They didn't. Her parents refused to start a war based on accusations, much to his father's disappointment. So, he resorted to publicly killing a general that belongs to them, starting the war. It took years to understand why her parents believed a war is worth their daughter, but for another General. Some say there is no rules in war, but in reality, some make some. In the supernatural realm, if you kill someone of another kingdom, on your own soil, it leads to war. Another way is if you barge into another territory, without permission is war.

Of course, her parents tried every way possible to free her. Sending parties to negotiate with his father, but he wouldn't budge. Finally, his father grew impatient and committed a murder of the General, sending them into a four-month long war. They came out on the winning side, leaving Callista and Marcus orphans. Five more months and Callista disappears, leaving them more split up, for fifteen years.

Julius sat up, pain now circulating throughout his body. He cries out as it pulses through his head, like daggers digging into his scalp. His eyes roll up in his head and a memory replaces his vision.

The memory seems to be following a ten-year-old version of Julius as he walks into the dark dungeon. His father had called for him to meet there but wouldn't tell him why. His father had just received word that the Royal Were Queen and King did not want to start war, so for his father to speaking at all is new to him.

The dungeon cell opens up, illuminating it within. His father and a few magicians surround a little girl, one he did not recognize. Her eyes snap to his, a lingering stare filling with hatred. Surprise rolls through him as he has never met this girl before. His father stood beside her, a long rope dangling in his hands. Wordlessly, he handed the rope over to his son. Julius takes it with confusion, but soon realized what he means.

He walked closer and quickly ties her hands behind her back, stepping away as her head whips to face him. Anger made her eyes bright and shiny like blue metal. A surge of heat filled his veins and he stepped back even further, his brows furrowing.

His father stepped closer to her, a smug smile resting on his face. "This is perfect," he mumbles, his eyes scanning his son's face, "You have no idea who she is, do you?"

The girl looks taken back as she takes in the King's words. Julius shook his head, a sharp pain slicing through his head. "No.���

"Good, good," his father grins, a weird look in his face. "Come closer. I need your help." Julius walks closer and raised an eyebrow at his father.

His father turns around to the back of the cell, his body was blocking a tray of instruments. A long, slatted knife, a silver whip with a black handle, a long thin needle, and a syringe filled with orangish fluid. His father stands next to a basin with red liquid that barely moved. Julius felt a lurch in his stomach as he realized what is happening. Horror washes over him and his eyes meet the little girl's, terror etched deep into those metal eyes.

"Father, I don't—" he is cut off when his father turns around, the silver whip dangling in his grasp. His dark grey eyes look bright with a crazy glint. A cold finger drags down his back, making him flinch a little.

"Hold her down, pin her arms by her side." He ordered. Frozen, he gapes at his father. The amount of pain this will bring her, and his father looked like he needed to see the pain. A red glaze washed over his father's eyes when he doesn't move. Terrified, Julius springs into action, trapping the little girl down. His head mirrored hers, terror a steady blaze in her eyes. His whole body trembled as his father circled them, his eyes studying the girl.

A small smile plays his lips as he comes to a stop behind her. He lifts the whip, the tip gleaming as it snaps up. The girl tenses, her teeth gnashing her lip as the whip comes down. A loud crack and a loud whimper escapes, pain flashing across her face.

It happens again and Julius feels his soul leave his body as he watches. This is inhumane and cruel, but he stayed in his spot, terrified that whip will come down on him of he tries to run.

All the while, his father chants a question, but the little girl is in so much pain, she never answers.

"Who is the Warrior Princess?"

Julius gasps, his hand flying to his head as the pain recedes like a dark smug demon. He watches the dark cell before him, comprehending what he just witnessed. He stands on shaking legs, his adrenaline high. His blood is signing in his veins as the remnants of the memory cross his mind. He leans heavily against the cold wall behind him, the familiar chill spiking through him.

He slides down the wall until his ass hits the concrete floor. He pulls his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs. He rests his head against the top, his eyes falling close. The horror in Callista's face embedded in his mind as they hear that crack of a whip.

I helped torture Callista Shawcross.

∞†∞†∞

A soft light explodes inside the cell, illuminating Julius huddling against the far wall. His two containers of blood are still full, the only food they allowed and none of it was touched. He lifts his head about two inches, his eyes searching for the source of light. His father and the General both stand in the cell entrance. Disgust wars both of their faces as they take in the smell and how disturbing his must appear. Not moving an inch for two days does that.

The memory of the torture plays an endless loop in his head. The memories his father stole so he could help and the memories he took from Callista, after each session of torture. The way her eyes dimmed after each crack of the whip until they were completely devoid of any emotion. Until he was holding down a shell of a person, a little girl with a part to play while his sadistic father whips her. He didn't want to be a part of the story where he destroyed someone so completely, she didn't want to live.

That is when his father took to whipping him, when Callista was too dazed and too under the pain to try and escape. His father whipped him for coming down there the first time, though at ten-years-old, he never could recall doing that.

As his father takes him in, Julius just briefly feels a spark of anger before letting his head fall on his knees again. He could feel the eyes of the two on him, but nothing in his body wanted to move. His knew his veins are bone dry, more than a day without blood causes extreme warnings to rise.

Footsteps enter the cell, and Julius felt he presence of his father suffocate him. He lifts his head again, opening his mouth to tell him off. A hand grips his chin, keeping his head titled as blood is poured into his throat. His whole body buzzed, reality slamming into him. One more day, and he would've been gone for good.

"Now that you are finally coming back, we have things to discuss," his father sneers, his teeth gleaming in the cell, "but get on your feet and come with us."

Julius feels the blood traveling to every part of his body, lighting up the tissue. Anger and disgust are what helps him get to his feet without staggering. The General leans against the cell door, his eyes dark and smug. There is a wicked gleam that centered into him as the General tilts his head.

"Come on, suicidal boy. Everyone is talking about you," he muses as his father snorts, "let us go see what they have to say when you emerge." Julius growls low in his throat, pushing pass his father and the General, but the latter grabs his arm, leaning close to his ear, "You are about to wish you committed. I had asked if we could've left you."

The two follow him out, eyes catching them as the prisoner's cages were open to watch them. Julius's jaw ticks as he strides pass, keeping his eyes on the path before him. As the door to the kingdom opens, servants and Yelkite guards line the walls. The guards have smirks and the servants have a surprised look. Julius was on the edge and his father manages to save him, something that is bound to be tied to his father.

His father emerges behind them, his hands coming together to gain the attention. "Yes, my son and Heir is alive, but as most of you know he is labeled as a traitor to our kind." Narrowed eyes and hate blossoms in most of their eyes. "But as me and my consul has been discussing something and decided to bring back something that has been shut down for centuries."

Julius spun around, his mouth opening to cut his father off when the General back hands him. "I do not think so. You will let your King speak."

His cheek stung, but his mouth plants shut, his eyes sparking dangerously. His father clears his throat, gesturing to the dungeon doors as Jacob and Davis are brought through. "These two are culprits that has helped my son, and so the teams have been chosen of three. My son and these two will prove their worth during this time. If they survive and are one of the first two teams to succeed, the death sentence will be lifted." The King looks up, his eyes alight with delight as he takes in the emotions of those around him. Most are angry he will have the chance to defend himself. Most didn't understand where this is heading. "I will be bringing back the End Game Trails. This will be once every year, just one month. This year I will start next week, the leading team will be Julius, Jacob, and Davis. Before the first trial, Julius will receive his eighty lashes."

End Game Trails, where they send people to their deaths for the vampire's entertainment. The twist? The audience controls the trails. Julius stares at the crowd before him, roaring with happiness and mirth. A wicked delight shines in their eyes when they take the three of them in before a few Yelkite guards come to stuff them back into their cells.