The Sweetest Death

Sixteen+

© Amber Kalkes 2014

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Sixteen+

I believe there is a moment in everyone’s life when it comes down to two paths. You can choose to fight the fate given you, fight for what you live for and fight for the hope that everything will come together in the end. Or you can choose to give up. When I woke up in a dark room with a chained collar around my neck and bound to the floor my first reaction was to do the latter.

I wanted to give up.

Edgar, I thought in rage, had betrayed me.

Then time passed and now I see the light in his actions.

He didn’t want us to be taken by force. He didn’t want us to be hacked to pieces and he didn’t want to face the possibility that I may die in the arms of his enemy. To Edgar, ever the strategic force, it was the best option of us surviving. Perhaps we would be physically apart but alive and in the end that’s all that mattered to Edgar.

He needed me to be alive.

Or he would crumble with me.

But I digress.

The room itself is dark and sparse. Black walls, black marble floors and nothing of much note but a large fireplace across the room lit with a blazing fire. In the silence only the sound of crackling embers reaches my ear but I shiver all the same. Its fear, I realize, still a foreign concept to one not used to the idea of it.

I never used to fear death and instead craved it.

But that was before Edgar. Before I knew what it was like to be loved by someone so much they would face a fate unknown and face it proudly. Dropping my mental shield I poke around our bond trying to find him but can only preen off it that he’s alive but that’s about it. Anything else is too faint and fuzzy to make out but I’m relieved he’s alive all the same.

The door opens suddenly and a pale blonde woman comes in with a large box in hand. She reminds me of a supermodel with her willowy body type, sharp cheekbones and pouty lips as she glides around the barren room. She’s dressed in a silver shift dress with her stick thin tresses parted in the middle to frame her heart shaped face. I can’t see her eyes yet but if she’s anything like the other vampires I’ve come across her eyes will be just as hypnotic.

“Hello?” I ask, trying to catch her eye, “Can you tell me where I am.”

She looks over her bird like shoulder at me with penetrating lime green eyes and purses her lips, “The Master’s home of course.”

“Master? Master Gryphon?”

She nods once setting the black box she has in her hand on the single table in the middle of the room. “We do not have time to bathe you but I do not think the master will mind much.”

“W-What’s in the box?”

“A dress. Master dislikes women in pants.”

I swallow my fear and ask, “Do you know where Edgar is?”

“Your mate?” she asks with raised brow. To my nod she sighs and says, “He is being kept alive for now. You will see him soon but I do not think you will find him in the best of conditions.”

“Is he hurt?” I whisper.

She shrugs, “It takes much for our kind to be in real harm. I would not worry about him too much as of yet. You have yourself to worry about now.”