The war between our worlds (Marshall Lee X Reader)

Rubies in his eyes

(A/N: Here's your long awaited update, everyone! Enjoy <3)

I screamed out, my voice echoing through the woods. I was scared, my heart hammered rapidly against my chest. Every part of me panicked when Fraunx attacked him, I just couldn't stand to see him get hurt. His blood splattering against the dirt, illuminated by the campfire, the droplets glistening like jewels. Fraunx's bright orange fur matched the flames perfectly, for a second it even appeared that she was on fire. With her teeth and her claws slashing into Marshall, moving at an alarming, inhumane speed. They tumbled onto the ground, dust and dirt kicking up around them. Marshall was on top of her, his fangs tripping with her blood as he held the wolf down. His eyes deep red, filled hatred, and anger, and rage. Fruanx was just the same, snarling and snapping with teeth filled with saliva and blood, bits of Marshall's flannel hung from her canines.

The vampire had the advantage, he could rip the flesh from her neck with one simple movement. He could kill her, he could win, but he didn't move a muscle.

I would have covered my eyes, but there was a part of me that couldn't look away. A part that wanted and craved blood shed, that craved war and violence, that was nothing but a beast.

Werewolves were prone to only one thing, as Fraunx had said before.

"Filthy mutt."

His voice dripped with foul poison, his words even stung from where I stood.

"You speak that way about her kind, though she is the woman you love?"

Another voice from behind us, bold and demanding. A voice that would stand out in chaos like this, that made everyone turn and stare, that made you pay attention, that comforted citizens yet scared the living day lights out of them at the same time.

Cinnadale.

He had his Axe drawn, his face stern as he neared them. His white blonde hair glistened in the moon light, mending with its beams almost immediately. He was a violent man programmed for war and war only, but he was also an Ominous. Features that only seemed kind until you saw him fight, his sky blue eyes turned stoney and hard, his comforting smile became a sneer, but somehow he always appears the same to me.

Ominous's were beautiful people, people who seem like they should be graceful, and calm, and kind until they mercilessly killed you in battle.

His blood line was chosen to protect mine for a reason.

Antridelle Ominous fought by my father's side, and he had vowed to fight by mine.

He probably didn't even hear the commotion outside, he just sensed it.

I was in danger, I needed him.

Marshall turned to face him, I could see his nails biting into Fruanx's furry wrist to keep her in place. "(Y/N) is not one of your kind and you know that, guard!"

A pang if confusion rose in my mind.

Not one of their kind? What did Marshall mean? He he gone mad, drunk and spitting nonsense in the night.

Nothing was making sense anymore.

Cinnadale dared a glance at me, a quick flash of his blue eyes, comforting and calming in just the mere seconds that it lasted, and then gone again.

He didn't make me excited, and adrinalated, and out of breath like Marshall. Who's very presence made my hairs stand up on end, my words get caught in my throat, and my heart beat mercilessly against my chest. Who turned me into a whirlwind of anger, and heat, and emotion just by touching me.

Cinnadale soothed me in any situation, his touches comforted me, calmed me, helped me. At the mere sight of him I felt better, safer, even stronger. He protected me in a way that didn't make me feel vulnerable and weak, but secure and loved.

I wasn't scared anymore.

Even if there was still bloodshed, I would never be scared with Cinna here.

"Did we not raise her? Was she not sheltered in our city, in our castle? I believe she is more of our kind than she is of yours, she belongs to us more than she will ever belong to you, immortal."

Marshall growled deep in his throat, an inhuman sound. It was like he was trying to restrain himself, to hold something deadly and painful back. His ruby eyes screamed fire, I could see his fangs in his snarl.

"None of that was her choice! This wasn't supposed to be part of her destiny, you people weren't supposed to be part of this!"

Cinnadale held his arms out, his Axe glinting in the moonlight.

"But we are, aren't we? Fate changes constantly and it always knows what it's doing. Poor, stupid blood sucker, Abaders have never known what they were doing. What if she was never meant for you in the first place!"

Marshall Lee released Fraunx and dove for Cinnadale, his body only a blur, he seemed to somehow radiate his own darkness in the small portion of light we had. But the guard had his axe ready, it wedged itself deep into Marshall's chest, slashing through the last fragments of his flannel and spewing blood.

My heart began to race at the sight of it, my mind craving only more of the blood shed. I shook my head, forcing it away.

I was not a beast, this was no time to want violence, to want more of this.

The vampire was shirtless, his grey skin reflecting the moon's white light. His bloodthirsty, red eyes glistening like jewels. Blood ran down his chiseled chest, against his abbs, his muscles, dripping down his stomach and into the beyond. His fangs still dripped with the crimson substance, and he grinned as he licked his lips.

My heart began to beat for another reason, and I wasn't shocked to find that I was biting my lip.

"Well, would you look at what I can do?"

His voice was playful, teasing. Like this was all a game, we were all toys in this immortals play pin.

Before our eyes, the wound began to close as quickly as it had opened. He looked down at it, mocking surprise. He wiped some the blood with his hand, holding it up for Cinna to see.

"Nice Axe you have there, by the way."

Cinnadale growled, canines forming in his snarl. His ears began to point, his fist clenched into fist. His blue eyes became a deadly, piercing golden and they screamed murder. He tackled the vampire to the ground, his fist and claws slashing and pounding endlessly. They tumbled around at a inhuman speed, I heard the snaps of bones, saw splatters of blood, and suddenly they stopped again.

Cinnadale was on top of him, muscles quivering, armor glinting against the moon light, white hair hanging in his face. He held a wooden stake in his hand, sweat dripping down his exposed abbs.

I knew what he planned to do, it was written all over his face.

"Cinnadale, No!"