Chapter Thirteen

He looked between the two of them, his right hand man and the brunette she-wolf. What the hell was his right-hand man, a vampire at that doing with a werewolf?

His eyes settled on the brunette. She was indeed a beauty to behold. The sunset rays illuminated her brown hair as it clashed beautifully against her ivory skin, her bright hazel eyes staring back at him. Her hourglass figure was well defined in those skinny jeans and the pewter- coloured baggy cropped top. It wasn't particularly his taste of fashion for women but her beauty illuminated it. She shriveled,her wavy tresses falling over her beautiful face, making him pay attention to her lustrous, rosy lips. He had lived for more than a few centuries but he had never laid on a werewolf as beautiful as she was .

After barely a second of admiring her features, he turned to his right hand man. He had seen what made Tristan disregard the natural enmity between both races. He wasn't a particularly lewd vampire but some particular beauties brought out the lewd side of the vampire and it was always quite a sight because Tristan was quite the taciturn. Vampires were naturally lewd creatures with major capricious needs for blood and sex, especially the naturally born ones….their desire to kill were quite unrivaled. The ones who were turned retained a part of their human life.

Tristan was turned.

“What are you doing with the she-wolf, Tristan?”

The she-wolf’s heartbeat picked up in sporadic patterns, her face completely blanched in fear. That was a first.

Werewolves were hostile, inept creatures, mostly acting on the emotions and brashness of the animals within them, mostly of them lacking proper intellect and brains, with many of them not ever being able to read the room. That was his own opinion though, as the werewolves he came across were hostile and barked ignorantly till their last breath. He couldn't decide whether it was bravado or just them being dense.

Her scent…..

She was no mudane werewolf. Unlike the werewolves he has met, her wolf's aura told of more power, imperious even but he was surprised when the wolf's aura displayed fear. That was quite the complexity of emotions for a wolf….might be an intelligent beast. Apart from her unique wolf, her blood was just sumptuous. The scent of her rich blood wafted across his nostrils, teasing him as an engulfing tirade of bloodlust washed over him.

The she-wolf was a lycan.

‘But no ordinary one.’ He reasoned. He had never met a lycan but had heard of them. More advanced in supernatural abilities than average werewolves with far longer life spans, enriched by a deity they served apart from their Moon goddess but he had no information of this deity, as it was quite a secretive topic discussed among the wolves. Her scent told of an arduous, burning energy but he could tell she wasn't proficient.

But she was gifted.

“Tristan, I'll be going now.” He heard her stellar voice mutter before taking off in superspeed. Instantly, he put a barrier which she collided in, sending her back in Tristan's arms with a surprised yelp.

Ire flared up in her eyes as she left Tristan's grip. She narrowed her eyes at him and he found it disturbingly adorable. Tristan held her arm, dragging her back. “You should leave.”

Her lips moved in protest but he had hauled her over to the door and and slammed it behind him. Who the hell was this she-wolf that Tristan felt the urgent need to protect? He could tell she was new, the rich scent of her blood would have definitely called him but he couldn't even justify that as the court issuws at hand had been time consuming, making him abandon his purpose here.

However he decided to question Tristan.

“What the hell are you doing with a werewolf?!” He had moved to where Tristan stood in a nanosecond, his claws extended as he dug them into Tristan's jugular, his voice dripping with cold, sweet, seductive elixir, the kind which made shivers run down Tristan's spine, leaving him asphyxiated.

“Axel, quit the shit.” He spluttered, the force of his hands on his neck, crushing his windpipe. He eyed him tentatively, before letting him go.

“I was just fooling around. Plus she-”

Axel cut him off. “She wasn't ordinary? I've noticed.” A telepathic message from Jasper came in.

“My Lord, Layla is here.”

A low growl escaped his chest. The bitch had been hanging around too long for his liking. But she had to do. The she-wolf had awoken an avid bloodlust and he needed someone strong enough to sate it. The college premises was already swarming with cops about a dead human around the dormitories.

“What is she doing there?” He voiced back telepathically.

“She seeks your audience, My Lord.” The reply came in before he turned to face a fear-stricken Tristan. “You're not gonna go after her, are you?”

He was referring to the she-wolf. “So she's that important to you?”

Tristan looked away, unable to face his master. “S-She’s not.” That was an obvious lie but he decided to overlook it. The burning sensation in his throat was his utmost priority.

“I want you to stay away from that she-wolf.” He warned, going towards the door before he stopped. “Meet Jasper and make me a freaking report of why you killed that human inspite of the fact that could expose us.” He heard Tristan let out a sigh but he pushed further. “Go find Hunter for your punishment.”

******************

“She's in your room, Sire.” The brown-haired vampire bowed as he walked into his glass-like penthouse. It was quite a windy evening, soothing even but all I could concentrate on was the itching between his gums and the parching feeling in his throat. It took every bit of him not to tear into the jugular of any human who walked pass him. His already heightened sense of supernatural hearing was cajoled by a capricious bloodlust which made him more prone to every pulse, the rushing of blood through their gourmet veins, especially the ones with an adrenaline rush after a strenuous activity. He had never experienced such bloodlust in his entire life- and a mere she-wolf this kaleidoscope of bloodlust amidst other amatory emotions.

“You can come in.” The seductive voice of the vampiress sounded behind the dark walnut wooden door. The nerve of the minx, ordering him around in his own property. He brushed off the imperative thoughts and propriety, preferring to dwell on primal, carnal, basic instincts.

He pushed the door a little hard than the furniture could take, the hinges crying from the force of impact. The blonde fiend sat on his king-sized four poster bed with her legs crossed. Her desire thrummed from within her, matching his own hunger. Clothed in only a lacey, embroidered golden robe, her pale alabaster skin, glimmering as beautiful as ever stretched into parts which were barely concealed to the eyes. Her youthful bosoms were heavy with desire, her golden eyes dizzy with lust. She stood, taking off her robe, not

giving a damn if Jasper was still at the door way.

Her scent was smeared with the stench of a filthy human, the human’s semen particularly. It seriously irked him but he was going to give her a serious punishment.

Here. In bed.

The door closed but Axel couldn't give a damn, taking his time to test his demons, to watch their patience reach it's limits.

Finally they lost their reins of control as both vampires collided, their lips crashing against each other in a bid to sate their raucous hungers. Their lips moved against each other in utmost synchrony, each struggling for dominance and after a while, she condescended into him, releasing a moan into his mouth. He made love to her lips the way it had satisfied him over the decades, still vividly aware of the blood pumping through her delectable veins. Subconsciously, he compared the scent of her blood to that of the she-wolf. Vampires were built with no limits to their blood supply unless they were limited on blood supply, in order to satisfy their mates mid-coitus and to sustain females during gestation.

He continued kissing her skin, leaving a trail of pink which creeped up on her pale skin from his rough touch. His talons grew, replacing his nails, digging into her waist, dragging the darkish hued blood which sprouted from the aperture in which his talons were still fixed in. A moan of pleasure meshed with great pain escaped her lips, pressing her body tightly against his. Feeling the clothes on him was still a barrier, she clawed her way through the fabric, ripping it to shreds. Her claws tore into his skin and he hissed, pissed. His fangs had long elongated and he depends his talons into her waist, making her arch against him paint as she cries out in pain. Her blood dropped all over the ground, and had stained the both of them, giving the whole scenario a gory feel. Her hands were sprawled all his hair, tightly holding as she whimpered in pain. Taking her by surprise, Axel drew out his claws, her screams reverberating in the Blood spouted from the wound heavily, as she staggered to remain on her feet. He pushed her to the bed, eyes heavy with lust. She lay, recumbent, waiting for the assault she desired so badly, her golden eyes heavy with lust and pain. He removed the rest of his clothing, eager to get this over with. He spread her legs, his claws leaving a trail of blood on her thighs. This was her punishment.

But being the fiend minx she was, she revelled in the sexual torture, a moan escaping her lips. He came closer, grabbing a fistful of her hair.

“Axel, please -” She said between moans amongst other gibberish he did not wish to know or comprehend.

He teased her nipples, bitting them till they bled. He made sure to leave scars all over her body, just for her to know her place. After a bit of actual sex, he went straight for her neck, going in for the real gourmet.

****************

The familiar, abysmal darkness greeted him as the trifle swirls and the gargantuan shadows of darkness gathered, forming an A-shaped feminine figured silhouette. She had control over it all, the darkness around the strange alcove connected to her by lilliputian, strange, gauzy, tenacious strings attached to long fingers, her malevolent presence trapping him like a mudane cockroach.

He was powerless against her, under her full control. Her dark murky pupils stood out in all the shades of obsidian. He quivered, all the air the air in his lungs gone.

She moved towards him, the ruffles of her old-fashion dress, ones he saw last in the 1700s, amplifying her movements. She moved her right hand towards him. The closer she came, the more asphyxiated she felt.

“Arthur.” Her sickly sweet voice called out to him. His real name at that.

His breath hitched in his throat as beads of perspiration ran from his forehead to his torso.

“Casper Arthur.” She enunciated, an electric surge engulfing his veins as his voice finally broke free, the electrocuting pain reaching it's crescendo.

_____________

His eyes shot open. His claws had elongated, grabbing fistfuls of his expensive beddings, ripping them apart. As always, his veins turned black, popping in taut tension in his pale skin. The electrocuting pain had become diminutive, as an echo of it was left in his body. The rapid beating of his heart was a remi

nder

It wasn't just a dream.