Manipulation

Kaelen's smirk faded, replaced by a solemn expression. He took a step closer to the king, his voice low and cutting. "You expect me to lead a genocide? To destroy an entire race, including the innocent?"

The king waved a dismissive hand. "Innocent? There are no innocents in war, Kaelen. The elves are complicit in their ancestors' sins simply by upholding the lies. Think about it—why should their children live while yours were buried and forgotten? This is justice."

Kaelen's hands tightened into fists, the magical cuffs biting into his skin. His thoughts raced, torn between the rage stirred by the king's words and the love he felt for Aelor—a love that defied the history between their peoples.

"You talk about justice," Kaelen said coldly, "but this is vengeance, plain and simple. And vengeance isn't justice."

The king's expression darkened, his patience wearing thin. "You think the elves will ever accept you, Kaelen? Even your precious Aelor can't save you from their hatred. They'll turn on you eventually. Mark my words."

Kaelen's jaw clenched, his mind replaying the council's disdain, the hunters' attack, and the lies he'd uncovered. But through it all, Aelor's face shone brightly in his thoughts—a beacon of hope amidst the chaos.

"I don't trust the elves," Kaelen admitted, his voice steady. "But I trust one. And that's enough."

The king's laughter turned bitter. "You're a fool, vampire. They'll betray you just as they betrayed your kind before."

Kaelen's gaze dropped to the ancient book lying at his feet that the king tossed , its worn leather cover etched with symbols that seemed both familiar and foreign. Rainwater dripped from his hair onto the floor, but he remained motionless, staring at the object as though it were a ghost from his past.

The king smirked, leaning back on his throne. "Go ahead, Kaelen. Open it. You'll find more answers in there than the elves ever gave you. I had Aldric procure this from Aldoria's hidden archives—not an easy task, mind you. Seems they were quite keen to keep it buried."

Kaelen hesitated, then knelt to pick up the book. Its weight was heavier than it appeared, as though burdened by the secrets within. He ran his fingers over the symbols before glancing up at the king, his expression guarded. "Why are you so eager for me to learn the truth? You've already tried to manipulate me into doing your dirty work. Why this sudden generosity?"

The king's smirk deepened. "Because you and I share more than you realize, Kaelen. I see potential in you. A fire, a rage that can be harnessed—not just for revenge, but for power. The kind of power that could rule this land." He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "And if I'm being honest, I've always wanted a son. A true heir. Someone capable of carrying on my legacy without weakness."

Kaelen's eyes narrowed, his grip on the book tightening. "You're delusional if you think I'll ever call you 'father.'"

The king laughed, a cold, humorless sound that echoed in the chamber. "I don't need your affection, Kaelen. I need your strength. And whether you like it or not, the blood in your veins—the power you possess—makes you uniquely qualified. That book will show you what the elves did to you, how they turned you into an experiment for their own gain. You're a product of their greed, Kaelen. But with my help, you can turn the tables."

Kaelen opened the book slowly, his eyes scanning the brittle pages filled with diagrams, notes, and sketches. The words described experiments—horrific trials inflicted on him and others like him while he lay in enchanted sleep. The elves had extracted his blood, infused it into artifacts, and used it to enhance their magic. They had siphoned his power like parasites.

His chest tightened, anger rising in him like a storm. But amid the fury, his thoughts turned to Aelor. Would Aelor know about this? Would he be disgusted if he knew the extent of what Kaelen had endured? Would he still love him if Kaelen gave in to this rage and sought revenge?

The king interrupted his thoughts, his voice sharp. "Don't take too long to decide, Kaelen. You may not see it now, but the elves are your enemy, even the ones you think you care about. They'll betray you the moment it suits them."

Kaelen snapped the book shut and stood, his crimson eyes blazing. "And what makes you think you're any different, King? You've betrayed your own kind for power. You're no better than the elves you despise."

The king's expression hardened. "Believe what you will. But remember this: the elves used you, experimented on you, and then buried you as though you were nothing. You owe them no loyalty. The choice is yours, Kaelen. Stay their pawn—or become something greater."

Kaelen strode back toward the throne, his eyes blazing with fury. "I'm not a murderer, and I'm not your pawn! If I confront them, it will be on my terms, not yours. I will make them face what they've done—not with violence, but with the truth."

The king rolled his eyes, gesturing dramatically. "Oh, the noble vampire. So predictable. You think your little speech will sway them? That the elves who chained you, used you, and discarded you like a broken tool will suddenly feel remorse?" He leaned forward, his tone dripping with mockery. "The moment you open your mouth, Kaelen, they'll strike you down like the monster they believe you to be."

Kaelen's jaw tightened, but he refused to be swayed. "Maybe they will. But I'll still speak. I won't let their lies define me—or my kind—any longer."

The king stood, his expression darkening. "You're a fool, Kaelen. A sentimental fool. But fine—go ahead. March into their sanctum and bare your soul. Just don't come crying to me when they drive a stake through your heart."

Kaelen met the king's gaze with unwavering resolve. "I don't expect you to understand. You're too consumed by your own hatred. But I'm not like you. I'll find another way."

"You think they would dare harm him?" Kaelen growled, his voice low and menacing.

The king leaned back in his throne, a smug grin spreading across his face. "Oh, I don't think. I know. If the council feels threatened, they'll do anything—anything—to protect their facade. And Aelor? He's the perfect leverage. The golden prodigy of Aldoria, willing to defy tradition for you. You don't think they'll make an example of him?"

Kaelen's fists clenched, the magical rope burns on his wrists still faintly visible. The mere thought of Aelor in danger made his chest tighten. "If they touch him..." he hissed through gritted teeth.

The king raised a hand, feigning innocence. "Relax, my dear Kaelen. I'm only pointing out the obvious. Which is why, if you insist on confronting them, you'll need help. I can offer you men—trained soldiers who will keep the council in check. Think of them as insurance for you and your beloved Aelor."

Kaelen's eyes flickered with doubt and distrust. "And what's in it for you? You've made it clear you're no saint. Why would you care whether I succeed?"

The king chuckled darkly. "Oh, I don't care about your righteous crusade, Kaelen. But if you're determined to stir up this hornet's nest, I'd rather see you come out alive. After all, a dead Kaelen serves me no purpose. But a living Kaelen—grateful for my assistance—well, that's another story."

Kaelen crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. "I don't trust you. And I don't trust your men."

The king shrugged nonchalantly. "Suit yourself. But remember, if you walk into that council chamber alone, you're not just risking your life—you're risking Aelor's. Can you live with that?"

Kaelen's jaw tightened. He hated the king's manipulative tone, but the warning gnawed at him. Aelor was everything to him. If the council used Aelor as bait or worse, he'd never forgive himself.

After a long pause, Kaelen finally spoke. "Fine. I'll take your men. But make no mistake—this doesn't make us allies. And if any of your soldiers lay a hand on Aelor or anyone else I care about, I'll deal with them myself."

The king smirked, satisfied. "As you wish. Consider this my gift to you, my dear Kaelen. Use it wisely."

Kaelen turned and left the throne room, the weight of the king's words heavy on his shoulders. He didn't want to rely on anyone, least of all someone as conniving as the human king. But for Aelor's safety, he would do whatever it took.

Even if it meant making a deal with the devil.