Dusk has settled over the world, ushering in vampires from every house, and where the creatures of the dark roam, the mages of light rise to meet them. Some fight for their house, while others struggle with what lies inside of themselves, but all fi...
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Days melded into one long stretch of time as Asmodeus withered in the Sol dungeons. After Neil Arc had let that houseless vampire rip open his insides and shove that blade into his ribs, he was stuck sitting up straight lest he puncture his organs. It was a position he couldn't hold indefinitely, so he eventually slumped until the blade cut him open inside where no one could see. Asmodeus had thought that was misery, but then the man had returned and ripped it out of his chest. The look in the man's eyes had been so dead, like nothing in the living world mattered, and Asmodeus had thought he meant to finally kill him.
But he'd left him.
Alone.
In the dark.
They truly forgot him then, for days, weeks, Asmodeus didn't know. All he knew was that it was cold, and damp, and he was starving after the vampire had cannibalized his blood. The shakes came in spasms every other minute, and his vision focused and refocused in search of prey. That lasted as long as it took his body to figure out there was nothing to drink. Then his insides screamed, begging for blood as they turned inward and sapped the energy from within. That was how he was when Alec Copse came down into the dungeons.
It had been so long since he'd seen anyone, let alone the swept golden hair of the Copse general. Alpine had been so timid when they'd met, powerful yet fearful of his kind because of who he'd lost. Vampires had taken his parents before he'd known them, and he trembled every day of his life in fear of his end at a similar fate. Eyes the color of the sky met Asmodeus' ice but the best he could do was snarl at him.
The beat of Alec's blood through his veins was demanding, drumming to a beat of a parade that Asmodeus needed down his throat. Asmodeus wanted to grab that slender neck, pin him to the ground, and... A groan slipped form his lips as his weak mind slipped back to the day they'd met, the day Alec had stroked his hand down his chest and moved into his space.
"Come on, you don't want to show me?"
Those words echoed in his mind as he recalled Alec popping open his buttons and biting his lip in anticipation. It had been a jest, not invitation, but Asmodeus had taken it anyway, shoving the mage up against the alley wall and forcing his tongue into his mouth to taste him. Alec fit so perfectly against his body, the best height to meld his mouth to his while keeping him flush to his muscles, and the right width to wrap Alec's hips around his own as he thrust inside of him.
Dammit. All Asmodeus could think about was fucking. That's all he ever thought about with his poor control of such things. But Alec wasn't his friend, nor had he ever been. The man was a general of the mage-vampire alliance, a Copse allied with the Arcs who'd imprisoned him.
The door to his cage opened, and Asmodeus growl deepened in hatred and hunger. Those damn sky eyes met his, and the skin between his eyebrows crinkled as he came closer. Many Copses came down here, Forest, Tide, Silvia less than the others, all to look on him wordlessly like he was a spectacle and then leave him to die alone.
