Dead Light
After all, the light had died eight minutes ago.
A man stood before me, his midnight hair so much shorter than my own. It still managed to obscure the jade eyes I loved so much. My own hair was silver, and fell to mid-back. His, however, ended abruptly below his chin -- as though it had taken the blade edge of a sword. His skin was pale, unhealthily so, and that alone roused my supsicions. The moment he smiled, confirmed it. Vampire.
"My prince..." He drawled in that lazy manner of the undead. I barely acknowledged him, my eyes scanning over him just long enough to realize what he was wearing. The guard's uniform for Illusia Castle.
He smiled again at me, and in a few strides he had covered the vast distance between myself and him. The vast distance between the doorway and the cool, comforting glass window. In one fluid motion, it seemed as though he were made of water and not flesh, he kneeled beside me, wrapping an arm around me. Drawing me close, in a lover's embrace. "Tobias...," he whispered, kissing the wolf's ear atop my head. My ear.
He sighed, and I knew why. "I can't come to you during the day, you know that." I straightened my shoulders, the only sign that I was listening to him. "If you miss me, Tobias," I loved the way he said my name, but I didn't let it get to me. Not tonight, when it was one of my bad nights. He should know more than to try and get me to talk to him. He continued, either unaware to my musings or simply choosing to ignore them. "You could always just take a little walk to see me. You're royalty, Tobias. Not one of the servants can rightfully stop you from visiting me."
Before I was able to fight down the impulse, I nodded. He smiled, I saw it reflected in the window. A fangy, gentle smile. Pale hands brushed silver hair from my neck, which he then kissed. I could hear my heart beating in the silence; calm, relaxed, not at all frenzied, and I knew he was keeping me that way. To him I was always prey first, and a lover second. I didn't mind. Each time he drank from me we found ourselves spending more and more time together. He often joked that my blood was addictive. As a pure-blooded werewolf, I couldn't argue much.
As he kissed my neck, I let out a small moan. One of the few sounds I ever made, for after my sister Fern's death, three years ago, I haven't spoken. A full sentance, that is. 'Yes', 'No' and 'Ian' are pretty much all I will say around others. Ian, the vampire who has become my lover, still has yet to have more than a five-word conversation with me. He lay me back, my head falling on a pillow I did not recall setting there. A bed might have been more traditional, but who are we to follow tradition? A vampire peasant and a werewolf prince, one who would be forced into a marriage soon.
My parents know that I don't favour women, not as a mate. Yet still, they are forcing me into a marriage. They say that I don't have to love her, only impregnate her a couple times and keep her comfortable the rest. I can keep Ian by my side as... as what? A vampire-whore? What does the poor woman who is also being thrown into this 'relationship' thinking? Hopefully she's already been told... I fear the day when that marriage rolls around. Two months from today. My parents justify it in saying that the line must go on, and unless Ian and I can have a child with my blood in it in the next two months, It's chic-city for me.
"If you're not thinking about me, no thinking at all," Ian whispered, running his tongue down my hardened length. While I had been lost in thought, he had undressed the both of us. And gotten the necessary 'equipment'. I would like to protest to him that he doesn't have to go through this whole ritual, that I can take the pain. But that would require talking, more than the few words I've deemed appropriate. Besides that, I think he enjoys watching me squirm. He is a predator, after all.
His hands roamed over my body, his lips and tongue following moments behind, as though my body were a forbidden wonderland. Soon enough, I would be. Afterall, had a man ever conceived a child?
All too soon and not soon enough his body was over mine, my legs splayed apart as far as they could go. He simply hovered over me, waiting for me to bare my throat and beg. I did, though not in that sense. I rubbed up against him, ghosting a kiss over his lips, pleading with my eyes as I lay back down. He attacked my lips with his own, his tongue darting inside my mouth to muffle any cries I might have as he thrusted himself inside of me. I bit my tongue, it hurt. I was glad that he let it hurt, though. The pain was the only thing that would remind me come morning that this had not merely been a dream, for my lover would be resting beneath the castle. Out of the way of day's harmful rays.
He rocked into me, a lot gentler than his first, powerful thrust. It still hurt, but pleasure was merely pain, wasn't it? Either way, I loved it. Right here, right beneath him, was my paradise. Eight minutes before the sky lightened in the slightest, was my hell. That was when Ian left me, to seek the shelter of the stone walls and windowless dungeons. I felt horrible for never visiting him there, but I didn't want to see the dungeons. Ever.
Mere miliseconds before him, I came. My walls closed around him, my seed staining both our chests. He poured into me, then dropped to his elbows, panting. He said nothing, kissing and teasing me again before we went another round. The night was still young, and neither of us were virgins. We had lost that in the fortnight we had met each other. Let me say this, and only this, about my vampiric lover; I still can't mention vanilla ice cream around him without giving him a hard-on.
The night passed quickly, far too quickly, and Ian was once again pulling up his pants and covering himself with his cloak. It wouldn't protect him from direct sunlight more than four minutes, but it would make it so he could return to the dungeons without getting scorched. He lifted me up from my place on the floor, there was no way I possesed the energy to move now. He tucked me into bed, an almost motherly action. Except, my mother, Charon, hadn't bothered with such nicities for quite some time now. Not now that I was her heir, her prince, her prisoner.
"If you need me, you know where I am. And even if you don't, come see me, my love." Ian left with his familiar farewell echoeing in my mind, his frantic footsteps as he once again raced against the clock. I wished him well, knowing that he did not need it. He may not have had noble blood, but Ian had a good mind -- despite what my parents might have though of him. I drifted off to sleep, and not for the first time were my thoughts of my impending marriage; and how I wished that it would be Ian I was saying my vows to, and not some big-breasted bimbo my parents had grown fond of.
-o-o-o-o-
The wedding was upon us all too soon. The woman I was to marry and barely see, either through my choosing or court duties, was named Aliesha. She was blonde, and that immediatley kindled my distaste for women. How I wished it would be Ian I walked up to greet, or the other way around. I would wear a dress for him, as long as he payed me back tenfold that night.
My mother was currently forcing me into a suit, a black one with sapphire stitches lining the cuffs. It made me think of Ian. As she was attempting to button the suit, which had fit two months before, she commented lightly, "Tobias, honey. You need to lay off the sweets." She left with that comment, taking the jacket with her. I was left with nothing to do but sit on the dressing table, kick my legs childishly, see how far I could bend in these restricting pants, and stare at myself. I did not like these pants at all. Dearest mother had forgotten to tell the tailor that I had a wolf's tail above my ass, or she just chose to ignore it. Either way, it was covered and I didn't like it.
My ears, tail and eyes are my sexiest attributes; besides my voice, of course. Which, Ian shall be the only one to ever hear it full of pleasure, laced with love and longing. Only him. Never this Aliesha woman who would be covered in rouge and other thinks, as well as wear some sickeningly sweet perfume. Possiblty even a few 'other' scents as well, hoping to invoke my natural desires. If she is, I'll go to Ian. This woman is only a pawn in the political game of my parents, and as I have learned, so am I.
An unexpected wave of nausea swept over me, and had I been looking forward to this wedding I would have chalked it up to nerves and nothing else. However, as the urge to retch became more and more powerful I found myself running in search of the castle's bathrooms. I found them, emptying the contents of my stomach and then some. I lay by the toilets for quite some time, sitting up every moment it felt as though another part of me were coming up for a visit. Always to be more than disgusted by the painful dry-heaving that had taken over me.
This was not the first time this had happened, either. It was the first time it had happened when I was under stress, though. Perhaps that was why it was taking so much longer for my vomit-fest to be over? Eventually one of the maids found me, a human who had the unfortunance to sell herself to repay a debt. What she hadn't known was that she had sold her line to our family as well. None of those worries were evident on her features as she fretted over me, cleaning me up as I leaned against the wall. "Sir, I think you should go rest. I will inform my lady if you wish, sir."
I nodded, then told her in the simplest way I could where I was going. "Ian..." With that, I finally got up the courage to head to the dungeons. To spend some time, even if it was spent sleeping, with my mate. I would always think Ian my mate, no matter what the legal documents would say. Trembling legs took me to the dungeons, and I would have reached them sooner if I didn't have to keep slowing down as dizzy spell after dizzy spell hit me. Something was wrong, that I knew, but I wasn't going to ask for the castle doctor. I wanted Ian.
I could feel the hot tears rolling down my cheek as I opened the heavy, thick oaken door that led to the dungeons. Down the winding, cement staircase I went until I came upon the room where our few vampire servants, guards, and guests lived. Eight of them in total were there, most sleeping next to one another. I knew that Ian also practiced this sleeping habit; this tradition of having another heart beside yours even in mere companionship if nothing else, but he was not amongst them. In the corner, sleeping in an upright sitting posistion, I spied my lover. Jade eyes opened, full of confusion, then worry as he saw the tears on my face. I didn't need to explain to him, he simply knew. He pulled me close to him, allowing me to cry on his shoulder, muttering soothings sounds and reassurances to calm me down.
By now, the seven other vampires in the room had awoken and were staring at us curiouslly, wanting to know what was going on. Ian simply pulled me closer, in an explanation that they begrudgingly accepted. When even the biggest of vampiric gossips had returned to sleep, or were doing a pretty good impression of feigning it, he asked me, "Tobias... what's wrong?"
Instead of answering, I fainted.