Cherished by The King |BxB|

Prologue

Vampires.

They were evil and wicked, like sleazy shadows dancing in the far darkest corners. They killed, mauled, and tore everything to fancy themselves the nice bloodbath they so much craved for. They were an abomination, simply designed to flourish by others' demise.

Everyone was born with a curse, and vampires were the hex of this realm.

They had no morals; they had a culture that we despised. They were the reason humans had died as they had sucked every single one of them 'till they fell to the ground just as dry rusks. There was no other our Kingdom's hated as much; no other that werewolves were as disgusted by. They were our nemeses.

We had been in various wars with them, all of them written down as the worst decades of our history. They had been eras of sorrow, death, and gore; our lands coloured by dark red as the Grim Reaper swung its scythe through them.

They were our Devil.

And now they were here, in my Kingdom, starting a new decade of a brutal war. The worst part was that you couldn't fight against them in your wolf form. The only way to kill a vampire, was to stick a wooden pike to their heart, and you couldn't obviously do it by paws and fur.

They were powerful and great creatures; they could live and flourish forever. Many stories from the human era described them as cold, lifeless bodies whose hearts didn't beat anymore. They wouldn't be able to walk in the sun and they hunted for blood as the moon shed light on the dark forests. But the stories were far from truth.

Vampires weren't allergic to garlic or sun, and they could look just like normal people walking on the streets. Their hearts pumped blood and they were just as warm as human bodies. What made them different, was their aging progress. Vampires stopped aging in their mid-twenties and lived their whole lives by blood. They were strong, stronger than werewolves.

They could move without a sound and travel at a speed twice ours. Their skin was unpierceable, and they could snap you in two with a flick of their wrist.

Everyone feared them, their power and culture. They didn't have similar morals and lived in very erotic surroundings. But we didn't know much of them either, we never lived amongst them. So now, that they were knocking on our door— I couldn't be but terrified.

I had met a vampire a long time ago. And it had scarred me for life.

Because of that, I suffer every day.

Because of that, I can't stand any contact with others.

And because of that, I'm weak.

They were all just like that, taking and destroying. Killing and using for fun. And once I'd step to the battlefield— you would think that I'd want to make them pay; slay them just as they did to my parents. Make them bleed out slowly, dig their eyes out. But I couldn't.

I could only fear them, only cry in front of them. I would submit, let them do whatever they wanted to me.

And what kind of Royal that made of me?