Sweet Like Poison...(Mature Paranormal Romance 18+)

Chapter Ten

Days fleet into long weeks of agitation. Every morning, I have to drag my mentally fatigued self from beneath the heaviness of my sheets, pray to the heavens for grace to carry on, to accept my state, my fate. But that is the challenge; tapping new strength to move on, struggling against the tempting offer to give up, to throw in the towel and call it quits with this life.

I coerce my brain to return to reality, climbing up steps, exiting the laundry room, and down the outside corridors, clutching a basket of Pharell's laundry to my right side. The weather is sour, gloomy, the gigantic blue gum trees swaying gently against winds. The cumulonimbus clouds scattered and obscuring the blue skies, serve as the perfect warning for a forthcoming storm.

Despite it being far too early for the vampires to be awake, some of the fellows are already in the training fields, punching, and kicking, and striking katanas. I momentarily stand in awe, effectively drawing unwanted attention to myself, whilst eyeing two vampires, a male and a female, sword fighting.

Much as the hunger is in the eyes of the those surrounding me, none would dare draw anywhere near. It's not pride, but a truth.

Steel blades clash, polished metals ring deeply, repeatedly, continuously.
They move with the fluidity of waters down a river, battle with the mastered agility of a black mamba, and I simply stand entranced by the lightning speed each employs, mesmerized by the sight of an entire log splitting into two equal halves, as one of the two lands graciously atop.

'This must be the epitome of glorious,' I ponder, reluctantly spinning on my heel, and padding further down the corridors, slipping into the inner, dark walls of the large building.

Long seconds tick bye, until finally, I make it into Pharell's chambers, setting the basket against floors. The man is still in his deathly slumber, with arms folded graciously above his abdomen, no breathing, no chest heaving, just statue-stillness. I get down to business, folding garment after garment, oblivious to the steel eyes that now burrow holes into my back.

I tread over to the drawers, placing the neatly folded garment in, before proceeding to slide them shut. The clothes in his walk-in closet; those are only for important functions, Pharell's words, not mine. I have no clue what he means by that, seeing as the man's outfits are all formal in appearance.

Thank grace I'd already fed Zelzah.

Turning around, I come face to chest with him, nearly bumping into rigid muscles.
"Pharell, goodness!"
"Forgive me, I only needed to retrieve a shirt."
"You intend to go out for another one of your nightly runs?"
"Helps clear my head, but no, not tonight."

I keep my eyes trained on his ice-cold ones, craning my neck as I speak. I see the battle against instinct, the hunger for blood, the slight shakiness of the fingers on his left arm.
"Tonight, my brethren, members of the vampire council, my parents, Devikah's parents, are all dining with us."
"And you look nothing short of appalled.Why are you so pressed over the issue?"

He turns away from me, and as I blink and reopen my eyes, he is on the other side of the room, sat facing his piano, resting the tips of his trembling fingers against keys.
"Are you really that oblivious, Zenaida?"
"Make sense of your words, Pharell."

Yes, I temporarily forgot the place I hold with the man, his steel eyes reminding me to watch my tongue and tread carefully in his territory.
"Devikah has been absent for a whole week, now. Peace, serenity. I once loved the lass like a sister..."
I fold arms in front of my chest, mouth falling slightly ajar.
"Then why should the marriage carry on?"

"She is royalty, and so am I; my parents' reasoning, the laws as well. She is the pharaoh's daughter, and I, a hybrid, the only son of a...nevermind that. Go ahead, leave me now. Change into one of the garment I brought you.
The theme is black, as per the usual."