Rebellion (Risen Series Bk1)
Chapter 21 ~ It's Like Vampire Macbeth

Red tinged water dripped down pale skin, following the grooves that old scars had left. The white towel wrapped around me was also starting to turn a gruesome pink, even after I'd spent almost an hour scrubbing my body. My jaw tensed in an attempt to stop from gagging, my eyes flicked to the claw-foot bath as it gurgled the last of the water down. Bits of skin and hair lay at the bottom, clogging the drain, reminding me of what I'd done.

Turning my back to the bath, my reflection stared back at me in the mirror above the sink. Dark rings circled haunted and unblinking silver eyes. I couldn't look at myself either and instead turned my gaze to the clothes Airell had left out for me with wariness, as if even accepting them was betraying myself. But I had to accept them, because my old clothes were torn and soaked in blood and there was no way I'd defy Airell. He'd be oh so pleased if I came out the door in only a towel, an item that would be too easy to remove from my grip.

Drying off slowly, trying to delay having to face my maker for as long as possible, I kept the mirror behind me. I didn't know if I'd ever be able to bear the sight of myself again.

At least Airell had the decency to give me proper clothes. The jeans fit comfortably, and I cringed at that. He knew my body well enough to know what size clothing I wore and that disgusted me. My teeth ground together as I pulled the top on and I readied myself for stepping out into the bedroom. I needed to act docile, and as lost and weak as I'd seemed when Airell had finally decided I'd killed enough for one day. I didn't want to feel the strike of his fists, and I feared that Anna would suffer the same if I misbehaved.

My hand hesitated over the door handle, my heart skipping a beat as fear slithered it's way through the chinks in my armour. He was in a good mood, I reminded myself, and as long as I behaved, he'd remain that way.

The door swung open and I jumped back, eyes widening at the sight of Airell glaring down at me.

"You're taking too long," he hissed, irritation in his tone.

I hunched in on myself, my gaze dropping to the floor, "Sorry."

Cold fingers slid along my jaw to grip my chin and force my head back up. A slow smile stretched his lip, he'd always liked to hear me apologise. Gently he took me into his arms, guiding me into his room and towards a plush red couch. I sat carefully, folding my hands on my lap.

Airell sat beside me, his body turned to face me. His hand slid down to my thigh and I stiffened, suddenly unable to breathe. His very presence terrified me more than I cared to admit.

"Are you hungry, Little Bird? Shall I feed you?" He asked, his voice soft and melodic.

I'd fallen into the spell he weaved easily before but I was stronger now. I couldn't let him know that though and forced myself to look adoringly up into his eyes. I was more than hungry, I was starving, but I knew I couldn't accept his blood. It would only strengthen the power he held over me.

He knew very well how hungry I was so refusing him would raise suspicions. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. Unfortunately, my body was betraying me. My fangs lowered to prick against my bottom lip as Airell slowly pushed up the sleeve of his shirt. I could practically see the pulse beating under his skin and my mouth watered.

His power began to electrify the air as I hesitated again and I could feel his annoyance, his growing suspicions. The bond he was trying to use against me didn't seem to be as strong as it was the last time and I had to make my decision now. Continue in my ploy or risk his wrath. My thoughts fell to Anna and I knew what I had to do.

Closing my eyes as if not seeing what I was doing would make it less real, I lifted shaking hands to hold his arm. His own hand lifted so he could sink his fingers into my hair and push my head against his wrist. This close, I could practically smell his blood and once more, I lost myself to my instincts. With snake-like grace, my fangs pierced his skin and rich, hot blood spilled onto my tongue. I couldn't help the moan that left me, nor the satisfaction I felt at feeding from my creator. There was something about ones maker's blood that was better than even the sweetest of humans.

His blood worked it's magic quickly, healing all my wounds, burning through me like adrenaline. I sank into my maker's touch, taking stronger pulls of his blood.

"That's it, pet," he murmured lovingly, stroking his fingers through my hair in a way that had me forgetting all dangers.

How could I have forgotten how kind he could be? How he'd protected and cared for me? What had I been so worried about...

My head snapped back, sharp pain shooting up the length of my spine as Airell yanked my hair. Blood dripped down my chin and his eyes watched with ravenous hunger. Slowly he leaned in, licking up the bead that formed. My body reacted with a shiver of disgust, rejecting the intimate touch of one who was not my mate. His tongue followed the trail up until he reached my lips where his own fangs nipped greedily. I jerked back and his grip tightened in my hair, his eyes narrowing.

Freezing, I waited for a blow that never came. It seemed he was still trying to lull me into a false sense of ease and I wondered for a moment what it was he wanted from me, but I knew the answer to that. He wanted what he always wanted, my willing submission. With Anna under his lock and key, he didn't need to threaten violence towards me. I could almost believe that perhaps he'd never enjoyed hurting me, or maybe maybe he didn't like seeing his favourite toy battered and bruised. Those thoughts were just lies that the bond whispered to me. I knew very well that Airell was proud of his scarring handy work.

"I can see the wheels turning in your head, Shylah. When are you going to drop this act? I didn't build you to be weak, I know you better. Why pretend with me?" He asked, smirking as my eyes widened.

My shock amused him and he released my hair to sit back languidly on the couch, cat-like emerald eyes never leaving me. I didn't dare move away like my mind screamed for me to do, instead I straightened up. He was right, there was no point pretending to a man who knew me better than anyone else in the world. Except maybe one.

I couldn't think of Atanas right now, it made my heart clench painfully until I couldn't breathe.

Again I flinched when Airell lifted his arm, expecting retaliation but he simply licked over the bite mark near his wrist to seal the wound. He inahled at the same spot, satisfied eyes still locked with mine. My scent lingered on his skin. Proof I'd given into him, that I'd fed from him. His tongue flicked out again as if he could taste myself on him. I shivered again.

"Are you going to thank me for feeding you?" He prompted, his tone turning dangerously low.

"Thank you, master," I answered quickly, hating the way I slipped so easily into the roll of slave.

He relaxed and smiled, once again shifting so quickly from terrifying to calm. He was unpredictable, but there was no point in beating around the bush any longer.

"What happens now, Airell? We both know that Atanas is coming with an army-"

I was cut off by his sudden laughter that had his head falling back in complete amusement. My jaw clenched.

"I wouldn't call his ragtag band of outsiders an army, my dear. We will easily thwart any attack they attempt, especially with my Little Bird back by my side. My victory has been prophesized, I don't fear the old king," he stated confidently.

I frowned, "Prophesized?"

He hummed, nodding before pushing himself to his feet. I wanted to press for answers but didn't want to test my luck. I watched warily as he wandered over to a wooden table pushed against the boarded up window. My fingers twitched as I caught sight of the dagger I'd taken from Padraig's antiques laying amongst the mess of papers but he ignored that to pour himself a glass of amber whisky.

The smell burned my nose.

"I suppose it's time I reveal what I know to you. Perhaps it will finally convince you that my side is the one you want to be on," he mused, turning to offer me a drink.

I nodded, almost grateful for the offer and clasped the cool glass between my hands. While I doubted whatever he had to say would sway my beliefs, I was eager to hear. I needed all the information I could get, anything that could help Anna and I.

"Did you know that I used to be the right hand for the old king?" He asked, stalking his way back to the couch.

I shook my head, unable to believe such a thing. Surely Atanas would have mentioned if he and Airell had been so close...

"It's not such a suprise surely? Makers always keep their progenies by their sides,"

The glass nearly slipped from my fingers that had suddenly gone numb. I forgot how to breathe as my mind went over and over his words. It couldn't be possible. There was no way a man like Atanas could be the maker of something as cruel and power hungry as Airell. I shook my head but his grin only widened. How could Atanas have not told me?

There were so many questions I wanted to ask, but I didn't want to hear the answers Airell would give because I knew they would barely be laced with the truth. Instead I sat silently, waiting for Airell to tell me his version of events.

He took a long sip of his drink, his eyes glazed over and for a moment I thought I saw a flicker of pain, of humanity. It was gone before I could be sure.

"Atanas was more than just my maker, he was my friend, a brother, a mentor. He was our King, and I was a prince in all but name. I wanted him to name me his heir, it was my right, but for whatever reason, he never named a successor. Eventually, as you probably know, Atanas grew weary of the politics, and perhaps maybe he grew tired of life as well. He told me of his plans to disappear just as his own maker had, to leave the power open for anyone to grab, but I knew his position was meant for me," Airell began, a pale finger circling the rim of the glass in an almost hypnotic rhythm.

I suspected I knew why Atanas had never named Airell his heir, but voicing that I believed Atanas saw the corruption in his own creation would definitely earn me punishment.

"I had my followers, those that believed as I did that vampires are the superior species and that it was humans that should have been hiding in the dark all these centuries in fear of us. For a while, I travelled the world, gaining supporters and that's how I met with three witches, three Yetholm gypsies..."

My head snapped up and my heart skipped a beat but Airell didn't seem to notice. He was enjoying the sound of his own voice too much and for once I was glad. I suddenly felt the need to make sure Airell didn't find out that Anna's lineage was the same as his three witches. Intrigue had me paying closer attention now and my maker grinned now that he saw how I leaned closer.

"They told me about our first Queen and the child she bore, and how her descendants would hold her power. At first, I wanted to find Leyla herself but her location is a well kept secret that even Atanas isn't privy to. I knew she would believe as I did, being the first of our kind. She would lead our people into greatness but after a decade or two I turned my attention elsewhere. Instead, I focussed our search on finding your kind.

Atanas kept his eyes on the council with help from his spies, but I hid my intentions well from him...for a while.

It took me almost three centuries to find a descendant strong and worthy enough of my blood. While there were many of Leyla's descendants, it was the ones marked by the moon that I wanted. Just like the witches had told me, I knew the moment I saw you one night in the alley while you spread your legs for coin you'd give to your father that you were moon-touched. Your parents hid you well, but I found you." He grinned, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, "Just as the witches foretold. I still have followers looking for Leyla of course, but you will do. Eventually I will track down more of your kind to add to my army."

Frowning, trying to make sense of the riddles he now spoke, I turned away from his touch. He let me, chuckling huskily. Your kind, he had said. As if I hadn't been a simple human before he'd found me, and I craved to know what it meant to be marked by the moon.

"The witches also told me that the progeny of the king would rise and as I'm the only vampire Atanas ever created, I knew this prophecy referred to me. I would be king. I will be King, and you, my Little Bird, will stand by my side. Perhaps we will find out how alike you are to your ancestor. She bore a child, perhaps this is an ability you also have. I'd very much like to find out," he continued, his eyes raking over my form.

Bile rose to burn my throat at the thought of his hands on my body and I felt the urge to tell him that Leyla had been cursed to carry a child, that it wasn't some ability the first of our kind had. I worried he'd lose the last of his restraint if he found out that truth.

Airell's gaze practically seared my skin and I focussed on finishing the last of my own whisky as I processed all he had told me.

Witches, betrayal, the rise and fall of kings, I was beginning to feel like I was living in a vampire version of MacBeth. My lips twitched in amusement at my own dark humour and it didn't escape the attention of Airell. Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ FindNøvᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

"Is something funny?" He asked, his eyebrow arching.

I smirked, unwilling to keep up my charade much longer, "I'm amused that you think Atanas will not rip everything from you, and that you believe I will ever allow you to have me again. If all you say is true, you are not worthy of me."

A shadow seemed to pass over his features, stealing with it any pretence of gentleness. His lips peeled back to reveal sharp fangs but only a small amount of fear crept up. His final words had used up the last of my restraint. My body was not his to do with as he pleased, he would never touch me like that again, I swore it.

Airell lunged, fangs ready to strike but I managed to slip under him, landing hard on my knee. Pain blossomed but the amount of adrenaline now rushing through my body made that easy to ignore.

I pushed myself up from the floor, darting to the desk to grab the dagger, wielding it in front of me. The tremble of my hand was hard to stop but I was determined, and had little to lose.

Airell laughed, standing gracefully as he eyed the dagger in my hand. He didn't fear me, not in the slightest, not even when I was armed.

"What are you planning to do, Little Bird? Do you forget I have your witch downstairs?" He asked smugly, making no move to attack or attempt to disarm me because he knew he didn't need to.

My grip on the knife slipped slightly, my confidence wavering. I couldn't attack him, even if I managed to kill him there were too many of his followers around. They'd smell his blood and find him dead before I could get to Anna.

My eyes closed in silent defeat.

Airell watched me contemplate my choices and the triumph in his eyes as I lowered the dagger broke me. It clanked loudly as I dropped it back on the desk and my body slumped.

I pressed myself against the wall as my maker stalked towards me and I didn't fight as he grabbed my arm in his painful grip. He yanked me against him, and I tried to swallow down the lump in my throat.

"I thought you'd learned your lesson, but you obviously haven't," he growled lowly by my ear, warm breath fanning over my cheek.

His fingers tightened around my arm, bruising my skin as he turned so my back was pressed against his front. I leaned forward and away from him, hating the feel of his body against mine but his hand moved so he could hook his arm around my waist, stopping me from moving further. I knew what came next, I knew the pain that would burn through me if I fought him. Drilled in instincts had me tipping my head to bare my throat willingly and he chuckled in satisfaction. Goosebumps of disgust rose at the touch of his warm lips against my throat and the scrape of his fangs had me biting back a whimper. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of my fear.

Airell's other hand tangled in my hair to keep me in place and a scream ripped from my throat when he struck his mark. He wasn't gentle, tearing his fangs into my neck so deeply that it cut off my sound of terror. My veins turned to fire as I struggled, unable to remain calm as he forced my blood from me. Nails clawed uselessly at his hands, anguish filling me as my body weakened.

Liquid red poured from the wound, and Airell drank as much as he could, his arousal pressed against my back. I didn't have time to fear what that meant for me before the world went black. One thought echoed out into the abyss.

Please come for me.

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