The Splash Zone

Trisley Life Cycle 4 - Sanctums of Bliss

~ KINALEY ~

Swish. Swoosh. Swish. The lilac gown I adorn pivots with my every turn, skimming the pristine stone floors of my chambers. If I had a rug, there would be a worn-out path from my pacing.

I see no reason not to let Tristan have Kinaley, Queen Rakasha's words spoken earlier keep replaying.

How could she just give me away like I'm a low-level servant who mucks the stalls or tends to the pigs? Eighteen years. Eighteen years I've been groomed to be by the Dark Prince's side one day and all because my curse has started, I've been deemed unfit, cast aside, given to the first vampire who's staking his claim on me. The nerve of Tristan Darkos! I may have given him my body that one time but that doesn't mean he owns me. So what if my soul wept in his arms or the mere thought of his gifted, warrior-skilled hands or divine mouth make my insides quiver. How could they simply throw me to him like a worthless scrap of gnawed-on bone!

The chair next to my vanity catches me, my legs giving out. What was it Tristan said? I'm his and he plans on making my tears spill again. All over me. All over him. All over the Prince's bed. What does that even mean? The same kind of tears as the ones from the spring?

Kinaley will expire soon. That's what Queen Rakasha said before she tossed me to her stupidly and wickedly handsome terrifying beast of a son. Do I mean so little I'm no longer allowed dignity in my pending death? Must I suffer in humiliation to the vampire I've been demoted to?

The brightness of high noon streams in through my windows, the springtime breeze fluttering the curtains in my room like the bed linens hanging on the drying lines. Tristan said he'd return to me this evening. What kind of things will he do to me now that I'm his? Will he still be tender? The most savage beast there is?

I stand, the bustle of my dress swishing behind me.

Having her for the little time she has left may finally end his tiring obsession. What did Rakasha mean, end Tristan's tiring obsession? Is the reason I was supposed to stay away because the Beast of the Damned has notoriously hunted the cursed massarra before me?

The wanting for forbidden fruit is a quintessential vampire trait. There's no creature more coveted in the vampiric world than a massarra. We are the embodiment of thirst and longing. Our blood so divine only the Prince of Darkness may drink from us. Immortalized mortal flesh of ethereal purity.

Have I been tricked?

Did I unknowingly give myself to a vampire who's been waiting for the day he can catch such a coveted prize and I was the naive and foolish massarra that gave him the opportunity? I bet the Plague of Rakasha's knew, if he laid with me, I'd be cast out. Found unworthy in my final days. I'm no use to anyone anymore. What does it matter if the legendary black-hearted beast brutalizes me? I'll be dead soon anyway.

I've been played. The temperate touches. The perceived caring for my wishes. It was all a rouse to keep my guard down so Tristan could get what he's always wanted. A massarra of his very own. And now he has one he can drink from at his leisure until the white flame inside consumes me.

I can't stay here. I have to leave before Thron and Rakasha's son does his worst to me. Because that's what this is really about, isn't it? I'm a massarra heart he can devour as my end is already underway.

Perfumed oils and hairpins spill over my vanity as I hastily rummage through my belongings—eight gold coins, five silver, and a diamond pendant gifted to me on my sixteenth birthday by the Prince. These are the only things of value I possess. I don't know how far they will get me, but I have to try.