A faerie is requested to entertain the son of the Daemon King
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"Primrose..." He repeated deeply, his tone almost as obscene as his gaze. My wrists were held in one of his hands, being squeezed tightly above my head so I couldn't free them.
I didn...
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I ran my fingers across the white keys, tilting my head as I tried to feel the melody; I welcomed it, wanting it to fill my thoughts and consume me. It provided me with solace, protected me from dwelling on things, on her.
I was aggressive with the instrument as my mind betrayed me.
Stop thinking.
But I couldn't.
Not when she hadn't showed up when she promised to, or when I heard her whisper so sweetly to me I thought it was a dream. I was starting to lose it.
It had only been a few days but my body and mind screamed and raged as if it were otherwise.
"Fuck!" I yelled.
The piano groaned in offense as I played the wrong key.
Frustrated, I slammed my hand down; my jaw twitched as a mess of chords and distortions sounded from the instrument.
This wasn't helping.
Ever since I woke up, my daemon has been growling and screeching in my head it made me want to pound my face in with a hammer. Piano usually calmed him but for some reason this was different.
I needed another outlet.
Azrael, wanna join me in a session?
I furrowed my brows at the familiar voice in my head, and the timing of his suggestion.
Yeah, I was actually just about to ask you. I'll meet you in 15.
With a sigh I stood up from the bench, stretching my arms above my head and flexing my muscles with a satisfied groan.
I quickly threw on a pair of sweats and a shirt, before tossing my water bottle and boxing gloves in a bag.
This was another one of my activities that pissed my father right off. Especially that wench.
Savage and uncouth behaviour, excessive use of violence.
Ha
Sometimes I think I'm the only one that remembers we're part beast.
I jogged down the stairs and turned down the hall, easily finding my way to the training room.
"Zeke" I nodded as I walked in, tossing my bag to the side.
"Your Royal Highness" He responded in a mocking tone, even offering up a bow.
"Fuck off," I chuckled; I lifted my arms to pull my shirt over my head and threw it at him, paying no mind to the annoyed glare that was passed my way.
