The Ring

0030

"I still don't understand why you wanted to stop things," said Kandor cockily. "I'm an amazing kisser."

Chrissa rolled her eyes at his stupid remark, and chuckled to herself quietly. They'd been crawling in the vents of the cavern, in search of Steven and Michael. Chrissa was determined to destroy her fiance. She had to, before their entire world went up in flames. Besides, she had to face Michael again at some point. She didn't know where they stood, but she did know that she still loved him, and he still loved her. Her feelings for him had been all over the place.

Chrissa craved Kandor, wanted him all to herself, and found herself addicted to his presence. They didn't have to speak. He simply knew her, in this strange, dark, and obsessive way. His energy responded to hers in a way that was almost intuitive. His energy responded to hers sweetly, his soul danced with hers. His presence had sunk deep into her psyche and ignited something within her she didn't know was there. But Michael, oh Michael--she'd felt the safest in his arms and gaze. What could she possibly—

"So this is all you're giving me?" Kandor said, as he'd broken her from her train of thought. "Silence?"

"You're being disastrous," she snapped. She stopped crawling for a bit, and turned to glare at him in the darkness, "and you should know not to take advantage of vulnerable women."

He rolled his eyes at her remark, and opened his mouth to say something, but closed it. His pale eyes had shifted into an emotion of warmth, as he moved a strand of hair away from her forehead. "I...," he looked away at first, and then back to her. "I apologize for making you feel that way," he paused again, as if fighting an internal battle with himself. "But you're ignoring your feelings."

It was Chrissa's turn to roll her eyes, as she began crawling forwards again, "I stopped it because I'd rather not indulge in delicacies while our world is falling apart."

"Is that why you slept with Michael back at the Manor, then?"

She froze, as if someone had thrown cold water into her face. She glared at him, "that was different," she narrowed her eyes. "I cannot believe I'm attracted to a nuisance."

Kandor held in a laugh, as he gazed at her in amusement. But his eyes then softened at her, without her knowing. He gazed at her in hidden admiration, "beautiful women always fall for me."

Sarcasm was laced in her words, "glad to know i'm just a number to you."

He stopped crawling beside her and dropped his joking manner as he saw the dark haired girl had grown visibly upset. Kandor shook his head, "I don't dream of you that way in the slightest, Chrissa." Her eyes shifted to his lips, and then back up at his eyes. "W-we shouldn't get distracted."

***

Stephen's eyes glowed a dark red, as his feet were lifted from the ground. His palms were open, and pointed upward as his dark blonde hair had spilled over his forehead. He chuckled manically, as he looked over a crowd of brainless Vampiric creatures. They all had the same dead, blank gaze.

Michael wore a hidden uneasy expression when he watched him chant a spell over the crowd of Vampires. Suddenly, they got on one knee in unison as they succumbed to him. The rings of every Fae colony had been littered against his fingers, the power of time, and magic had coursed through his veins. He then turned to Michael, as he came back down to the ground. His feet hit the floor harshly, and it created an echo throughout the entire space. They'd been on a giant ledge about ten feet up from where the crowd of creatures had bowed down to him.

"You can't be afraid of it," he chuckled, and then looked back out to the audience. "Let it wash over you." Michael shot him a hard expression, "I'm not afraid of power," he stated, with hidden hesitation in his voice. "Look, you told me you'd make Chrissa come to me. Where is she?"

He half chuckled and had a dark smile. "You caught that," Stephen said, as he sauntered over to him slowly. Michael stepped back a bit. "No, you actually promised that."

"I don't see the appeal," Stephen chuckled, and turned to him. "She's boring. Too controlled. Non-docile."

Michael rolled his eyes at his dumb remark, and before he could open his mouth to speak, Stephen spoke over him. "Love or power? You must choose."

Part of him longed for Chrissa again. The feel of her needing him, the feel of him protecting her only felt right. He knew he'd been cursed generationally with servitude and loyalty. But Chrissa seemed like the one good thing in a while that kept him afloat, aside from his child he had with Lizette. He loved Chrissa more than anything, he would do anything for her, no matter what it took. He wanted to always be her protector. She wasn't like the other royals. Chrissa was kind. Empathetic. Classy. Proper. The complete opposite of himself, but he couldn't help but be attracted to her for it.
Michael couldn't imagine her with anyone else, and his heart flurried with anger whenever his mind raked over the idea of Kandor being with her. He fucking hated him with every nerve, and cell of his being. He could murder him. It was something deeper than anger. It was almost as if the love he and Chrissa shared had birthed something of its own, and lived within the two of them, and Kandor was trying to get rid of it vicariously. When Michael's blade plunged into the skin of Kandor's chest hours ago, it felt like a high. He wanted to do it over and over again, till his soul had fled from his body. Permanently.

The concept of murdering Kandor in order to get closer to Chrissa romantically was a feeling that he felt drunk in. How dare he take the one woman he loved? How dare he try and steal her from him? He hated the way Kandor dangled his wealth in front of him, belittling him. Michael found himself not caring about power, or whatever other bullshit her ex-fiance had been rambling on about.
He only wanted Chrissa. He dreamed of taking her far from the Vampiriclands and escaping elsewhere. Perhaps there were other Vampiric colonies that existed in their world, but he couldn't live in a reality where Kandor lived too. He just needed to speak with Chrissa, make amends, and take her away on his horse so that they could start new lives someplace else. He could make it work, Michael thought. He just needed to get himself out of their predicament. Chrissa's love was his. He would never give it up. For, if he did, a part of him would simply die. A part of him would be missing. He could never be whole.

"You're engaged. Why give me the possibility of taking her from you, don't you love her?"

"It was business," Stephen commented, and cracked his knuckles as he rested his hands in front of the silver buckle of his belt, "in the world of royalty there exists a million Chrissa's. However, I suppose It isn't common for people like you."

He scoffed, and looked at the ground. "People like me," he commented, and then looked into his eyes. "Whatever. I don't care anymore. Just bring Chrissa to me."

There was amusement in his eyes as his chin tilted up slightly. "I suppose It's power then, that you choose?" Michael hesitated, but the other man kept talking, "every man deserves power. It's in our blood. We fight, we conquer, we protect, hold lives in our hands. It's every man's birthright to take what he wants. We deserve to have all of our desires," Steven paused, and smiled at him darkly. "You haven't felt that, haven't you"?"

Michael had become frozen in silence as he drank in his words.

"If I were you, I wouldn't let him passionately and lovingly fuck the woman I loved. I would take what I wanted. Take the life I wanted and live the life that I want to have. And then..." he trailed off. "A-and then what?" Michael asked almost desperately, as he turned to face Steven.

He cracked a demented smirk at the dark haired man, as he traced his finger over the blade of his silvery and sharp sword that'd been attached to his belt. The blonde man looked up at him thoughtfully, "I'd take his place. Take away his throne. Become Vampire king. When you have power and influence, you can make anyone do anything you want. Chrissa wouldn't say no to that. She couldn't. Ownership is a mindset," he said to him, as the screams coming from the prison cells below them had played like a demented melody beneath them.

"But I don't wanna own her," he said in a frustrated tone. "I just want Kandor gone."

Stephen smiled, "and that, he will be." He played with the rings that rested along his fingers, "you deserve to feel the satisfaction that power entails. Most men are weak. Only the best of us become Kings. My brother is wearing a costume. Don't fear him. Don't even think. And it will all be ours." He paused, "I mean, yours of course."

Michael rolled his eyes, but then nodded. "Then I'm in."