A Vampire's Pride

At My Mercy

Viola's POV

The silence is loud and the air is stale as I make my way down that dark hallway to the small chestnut door. The breeze is chilly causing goosebumps to rise on my arms; I embrace the cold as it's my second nature, my ice thrumming like a soft purr.

Putting my hand on the chestnut door that was a perfect size for my height, I push it open gently and wince as it creaks lowly. The knob is made of crystal and feels like stone beneath my palm as I take a step into the room. The floor is concrete and dusty, my slippers click as I take slow steps into the room.

I hear a soft feminine groan and a small rattle of chains as my heart thunders. I restrain myself from calling out anyone's name, willing myself to move with the darkness; silent and swift.
As I take a fifth step into the room, my foot steps on something hard and loud. I look down to see iron chains, thick and impenetrable. I inhale sharply, praying for the first face that I see would be my fathers.

It is not.

A woman so beautiful and fragile sits on the floor, her features bold and sharp. Her cheekbones protrude strongly and high, and her lips are red and cracked, leftover blood on them. Her eyes have a red hue, and I notice fangs peaking out from underneath her top lip. Her long brown hair cascades around her shoulders to her black bodice and skirts.

     On a long thin finger she sports an emerald ring, framed with gold, dirtied by being worn for however long.

Could this be...?

            Before I have a chance to even ask, I hear a cough so violent coming from the corner of the room. My head snaps in the direction as I hear a voice call out to me.

              "Viola?" My dads voice rings out roughly, barely audible.

           Relief so violent shakes me to my core as tears spring to my eyes. Air gets trapped in my chest, and the feeling of being breathless is strong.

             "Dad." My voice breaks as I pick up my gown to run to him, but before I can, candles go aflame all around us.

                "Ah ah." A deep voice says tauntingly, low and cruel.

I blink out the spots in my eyes at the sudden intrusion of lights, and allow my eyes to adjust. Across the room stands two powerful men, and next to them, my father beaten to a bloody corpse. My lips quiver as I take in the sight before me.

King Kaidan and Kilian stand so casually next to each other, you'd think they were waiting the entire night for me.
     Kilian's hands are in his pockets as he wears a bored expression, his eyes vacant of any emotion.

           I'm speechless as king Kaiden holds a torch above my father, so close to him that I held my breath.

            "Wait." I say, barely a whisper.

          "She's the prophecy? Why she's a little mouse! This is what is going to stop the war?" The king let's out a harsh laugh as my eyes jump to Kilian. He smirks at his father as a deep pit of anxiety stems in my stomach. Him. How could he? No. No, I couldn't have been deceived this entire time. Not like this.

         I narrow my eyes and square my shoulders back.

         "What is it that you want?" I bite out, hate seeping into my tone.

         The king, almost an exact replica of Kilian but older, raises his eyebrows at me. 

           "What do I want? Oh sweetheart, I don't really think you are at a position to form another bargain." He gives me a maliciously toothy grin and I feel queasy.

        Think. Think. Think.

        The chains behind me rattle, and a plan starts to form in my mind. Please be who I think you are.

         A sharp blade of ice forms on my arm, and I'm immediately hauling the vampire woman off of the floor, placing the ice near her heart. I see Kilian's face drop as the king twitches slightly, not giving a damn thing away.

           "Do I have your attention now?" I give my best serpentine smile. Two can play at this fucking game.

          "A servant? You're going to bargain with a servant?" The king drawls out, his voice dripping with faux amusement— but I know better than to doubt my instinct.

         I grab at her finger wearing the ring, the emerald glinting amongst the candles.

        "Yeah because a servant is going to be wearing fancy drip." I say sarcastically as the king narrows his eyes at me.

         His stance is rigid, and I know I'm winning.

       "We threw her in these cells for stealing that, from my lovely wife. She let her keep it because it was already soiled with her filth." He turns his nose up at us, still not moving to set my father on fire.

          "Oh give it up dipshit, just how little do you think Kilian told me? I know this is your dear old wife." I spit out as the kings face flinches with untouched rage.
     Kilian's lip twitches in secret humor, but he masks his face neutrally again.

             "Don't you dare talk to me in that way, peasant." He snarls. 

            "Yeah, running around town with your son really does make me lowly, doesn't it?" I say in mockery.

"No, it just makes you a whore." He spits back at me. I flinch quickly. Kilian's face goes stiff, cold silent rage showing.

"Don't," he says quietly, deeply. "Don't call her that." A vein clenches in his neck as his jawline tightens, that fury coming and going as he realized he'd let some vulnerability show.
His father chuckles lowly.

"It's okay my boy, sometimes royalty can pity those beneath us... but remember who's side you are on." He says as Kilian's mother groans in my ear. I hadn't realized, but I'd been shoving the ice blade farther, causing some blood to run down her throat. I immediately loosen my grip a bit and cock my head to the side to take a look at Kilian.

The demon whose emotions were no doubt conflicted.

"Yeah Kilian, who's side are you on." I run my tongue on my bottom lip as his eyes flicker there, a dark gleam in his eye.

"Pick your poison." I say.

And deep down inside of me, I know I truly wanted to know his answer.

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