Bite Me Royal... (Mature Vampire Romance 18+)

Chapter Five

It has been a little over two days since our coerced leave from Raiz Kingdom. The journey has been one of pure and unfathomable torment -physically, psychologically, emotionally. Most fell sea sick, some succumbed to death, others saw it fit to toss themselves into the vast oceans and drown the taunting whispers of sorrows untold. Even as we rowed and still continue to row the unimaginably large ship, the continuous motion has had our palms wailing with blood, bruising and even purpling awfully.

The wound plastered upon the blade of my shoulder continues to burn with sweat, continues to ache from the rays of sun that beat down upon it. Of course, there is not a need to lament or bemoan as that would only lead to a series of whippings and battery.

Sleeping is almost like a chore, an impossibility in the night hour. Why? Because the chills of nightfall are like a brutal force to be reckoned with. They chew on my skin and sink claws into the fleshy branding. I swallow, I blink to dispel all thoughts that plunge my peace.

Now we remain stationary upon some remote island. Amir's men hand each one of us some bowls of water. I am not quite certain the waters are safe for consumption, but I am thirsty and desperate times do call for desperate measures.

I have not seen Amir since the morning he fractured man's arms. In a manner it serves as some form of consolation. I do not get to encounter the lad anymore than I must. During the day hour, he is cooped up in his cabin, comes out only in the night -so I have heard.

I wish upon him a pain-filled demise. I wish upon him nothing but turmoil. I detest the very name of him. I'd give anything, anything to drive a flaming stake right through his guts, to watch the redness weep from his body whilst the life drains from his eyes -in the same manner he shed the blood of so many innocents without thought. How does he look upon his reflection in the mirrors -that monstrosity of a creation!

My eyes well with tears. They sting so horribly. As I take hold of the waters being handed over in the wooden bowl -my palms trembling, my lips quivering- I tip the utensil, sip from it, cleanse my face with the waters, also.

"Yalifa Gamila!"

My head whips in the direction of caller and there, I make out the figure of a man -tall and buff- with thin silken loincloth that barely conceals the hairy slug curled up between his fit thighs. How should he know of my name? Just how? Still, I rise upon my feet, smoothen my torn and dirtied skirts, march up to where caller stands tall and proud.

"Come, the prince summons you," his gruff tone infiltrates, and a new horror begins to scrape at my chest mercilessly.

He turns, treads towards a set of doors and swings them open. Then, he proceeds to march right in. I follow closely behind, frown plastered upon my face as I make tentative steps behind the figure that strides ahead of me. My head is low, the queries begin, my palpitations heighten, the lump chokes my throat.

Man proceeds towards the furthest doors on the hallway and raps knuckles against the wooden barriers. Once the "come in," sounds, he turns and gestures for me to walk in. Then, he leaves me to the demon incarnate and treads on from where we came. But I stand glued to the grounds pondering on whether life is truly worth all these.

"Come in, Yalifah," comes his baritone, soothing I dare say.

Cannot fall for that trap, cannot let the same snake bite twice. Have to proceed with intense caution. I turn the knob, pad lightly into candelabra-lit chamber. The curtains are fully drawn. They are of a scarlet hue. So is every other fabric that covers the furniture within. I paint out silhouette of man sat upon the edge of bed -his back facing towards me.

"Shut the doors behind you, Yalifa."

I glower holes into his backside, not a single muscle bulging.