Prince of Blood | 18+

Chapter 11: Bad Blood

PATIENCE

I rushed out of the ring, manoeuvring my way through the crowd. The beings were like solid poles stuck into the ground — waves pushing me ten steps back for every one step I took forward. I fought against them as though they were waves and I was stuck below a tide.

All at once the ground disappeared beneath my feet and I was lifted up above the hundreds of heads below me. Unfamiliar hands passed me around, cheers and whoops splintering through my eardrums. Fear settled in my stomach.

I was supposed to be running.

"Virtue! Virtue! Virtue!" they all chanted.

Running for my life.

I felt like I was falling, dizzy from the constant changes in direction. Something in me recoiled at the hands on me, some of the touches lingering on my bare legs. Every few seconds I caught a glimpse of scarlet, Wrath's wings still as proud and as dangerous. I had a feeling the iron cage locked around him wouldn't do much to save me.

But panic never stuck around for long with me. I willed that calmness that was akin to me into my veins, letting it slow the pounding of my heart. It rushed through me like ice, cooling the wisps of fire that Wrath had lit inside of me.

And then I did the one thing I hated doing.

I felt my teeth clench as my wings curved out of my back, the red feathers stretching out behind me. I poured every ounce of my strength into the motion of the wings, pushing them to work.

My wings faltered, struggling to gain traction.

My wings were weak, fearful, wary — everything that Wrath's weren't. Because you needed a certain kind of emotion to drive them. You needed anger. Anger that I had never felt before.

The beings below me only took the appearance of my wings as a sign to make me even dizzier. I was thrown up in the air, caught again, and thrown up once more.

"Virtue! Virtue! Virtue! Virtue!"

I'm not a trophy, I wanted to scream.

Put me down, I wanted to demand.

Beneath all the noise, there was a sound that sent a shiver rolling down my spine. It was a snarl. And it was deep and threatening.

It was that sound that pushed me over the edge. My wings flapped with a sudden fierceness. The air combed through my hair as I flew through the arena, trying my best to aim for a window.

I focused my blurry vision on a half-opened window at the top of the arena, bracing myself for impact with the glass. I pushed my arms up to shield my face—and then crashed through the window. The sound of splintering glass was almost painful. The adrenaline numbed any of the pain in my arms but the warm trickle of blood down my skin was unmistakable.

Still, the open air was worth it. The fresh cold wind soothed the redness of my cheeks, calming my racing pulse.

Until I found I couldn't stop.

There were two things that bound me and Wrath together. One was our unholy bond. And two was our wings. I feared mine, and he had no control over his.

Being suspended in the air with no one to hold you up but the beating of your wings was like being stranded at sea. It didn't matter how calm the ocean was. It didn't matter that there wasn't a storm in sight. You were still alone. In the middle of a vast expanse of emptiness.

I felt one of my wings falter, a sharp pain slicing through my shoulder blade. I fell lower toward the ground, dipping closer and closer every time my wings hesitated.

His wings were broad. Powerful. A violent shade of red. Viciously beautiful. And I was in awe of them every time.

I found myself wishing my wings had the same power.

I fell to the ground, a scream trapped in my throat. I tasted blood, the metallic taste sitting on my tongue. I winced quietly as I got onto all fours, my wings sliding back under my skin with a painful slice. It was like a weight had been lifted off me. I crashed back down into the ground, my racing breaths displacing the dust on the floor. The concrete was rough against my cheeks, piercing and sharp.

I quickly realised that even though I was supposed to be running, I had nowhere to run. I lifted my head up to peer at my surroundings. It was a plain expanse of nothingness with nowhere to hide. Out here, he would find me within moments. I was too weak to fly and too tired to run. My only choice was to go back inside.

Agony pulsed through me as I crawled back to the brick exterior of the camp. I needed something to lean against, something to hold me up.

Perhaps in more ways than one.

Leaning against the building for support, I rose to my feet, my knees sending agony pulsing through me.

I'd definitely broken something.

I dug my fingers into the crevices of the brick wall, holding on for dear life as I tried to find a door in. I could still hear the whoops of the beings inside, their cheers growing rampant.

Except this time it wasn't my name they were chanting.

"Wrath! Wrath! Wrath! Wrath!"

The sound of scraping metal sent a jolt through me. I was warm with panic, with the thought of Wrath hunting me down.

He'd asked me to run.

And I, stupidly, wanted nothing more than to run toward him.

There was something beautiful about ruin. Something breathtaking in the way that something can be broken beyond repair. My Virtue had been broken centuries ago by the Seraphics — but I wanted Wrath to be the one to put me back together. I had a feeling that that was not what was on his mind when he'd asked me to run. No, he'd looked as though he was hungry. As though I would be his next meal.

I heard a familiar voice through the brick wall I was leaning against. "Oi, yous fuckers! Get the hell out of here before I kill one of yous idiots!" Zeen shouted. There was a pause. "Move it!" Zeen ordered.

And then I realised something.

I couldn't hear the scraping of the metal cage anymore and I couldn't hear those deep growls.

But I could feel him.

And he was close.

I didn't even know what I was running away from anymore. Because, more than anything, I was running from myself.

I spotted a distinct grey handle and limped toward it as fast as I could.

I needed to find somewhere to hide. Fast.

I was running from my need for him. I was running from how desperately I ached to give in to him and those dark, smouldering eyes. Because Wrath would never give me what I wanted. He would give me his body, but I would never get his heart.

I grabbed onto the latch of the door, pushing it with the weight of my body. I fell inside, tripping over my feet. I caught myself moments away from hitting the ground again—and moments away from hitting another being.

She pushed her thick-rimmed glasses up her eyes, her dark blue hair cut short to her chin. She steadied me, grabbing hold of my shoulders.

"And who dragged you through a bush?"

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Sorry this chapter ends so abruptly - this is all I had time for :( But I'm so ready to get going with these two!! Can't wait until I have the time to post more often <3

I've attached an image above of what I imagine their wings look like!! Just imagine them as red and Patience's are not as full or as big.

See you guys again in two weeks <3

Love,
Laila