BLOODLUST - DARK SOULS (THE CURSE OF THE BLOOD SERIES #1)

part three

Ren was not supposed to have mercy. They were cold-blooded killers. They hunted, slaughtered, and when they got their target, their prey's head would be separated from the body and would be hung on the walls.

The leader, Zaph had taken her to a room, with a long black sofa, shelves along the wall, made of glass that contained many kinds of vile and anonymous tools laid on a tray that she'd rather not touch, papers scattered at the sharp edges of the room, and a small, black table. She noticed a full set of the injection extract that she had the first she arrived here and those knife different shapes sort. All of it was placed on a rug beside a long, weird-figured chair that was half bent backward. The guards just left her there as if she was allowed to roam freely in the room yet the door was locked and there were no windows. No chains, no thick metal on her neck.

As far as she knew, most buildings in the Frostland were made of ice, since it was made by the strongest gifted-Fors, so they can rest assured that their frost was unbreakable, hard to be shattered or melted. But Laith had missed the warmth she had shared with Aida. The lady used to snuggle with her every night. She wasn't even sure why she would keep her like her own child, but it felt nice to have someone that cared about her, though Aida never said it.

The carpet immediately heated up, and her temperature rose higher than usual. It was like a natural reflection; when a cold chill seeped down her spine, a flush of warmth immediately surged through her to balance her temperature. Countless times she trained to lower her warmth so she became harder to be tracked since most of the hunters, especially Ren, were experts in sensing heat. If it not because of the Varynx that approached her that night, she would be on her way to Tuvcan, sneaking into a ship filled with fish to Sazta. Was it the dark dweller called Varynx she saw that night? Though she knew that wasn't the first time she sensed it strongly. She closed her eyes, feeling her own warmth seep through the thick, furry mat.

A quick sense of frost came to her, like a scarf whipping past her cheeks, making her open her eyes and glare at the door. Heartbeat fastened. Someone was nearby. Her hand slowly traced to the tray, slid the small knife, and hid it beneath the thin clothes of her wrist. The knob looked spun by itself before the door was slowly exposed. Laith gulped as she saw the figure that appeared. Zaph.

He came closer, kneeling on the same level as her head. He reached her chin with the tip of his finger before his lips parted a bit, smirking. "Not bad, fireling, but spare me the death for later. You caused a riot among the army."

She stared at him with a blank reaction, yet her heart aching just to peel one of his eyes off.

Zaph chuckled, his brow rose, "No need for violence now, don't you think?"

He snatched her wrist, twisted it, and she grasped heavily in response. She grunted, trying to endure the pain as the knife slipped from her numbed hand. Zaph collected it from the carpet, placing it on the tray before pulling her closer by force. "You dare not, fireling. Try to do anything, and I ensure you won't see sunlight for the rest of your life." His voice lowered, and he pushed her back to the black furry sheet.

Laith could feel her body radiating with heat, yet she controlled it well enough not to burn the carpet—or him. Him. The man that captured her that night. The same man who put her in the arena and made her look like a dog, a slave. The leader of the tribe, as she assumed he was. A man who hid behind the king's name to gain his benefit despite one point, that the king would eliminate all of them for his land. Ren was his shadow to do his filth job, as he only watched the Invera suffer, watching her kind suffer.

He grabbed her waist, pinning her down as his hand slipped something from his back. "Relax, this is going to hurt a lot."

He buried the needle in his hand to her neck. The dark liquid flowed to her vein, her muscle strained and twisted, and Laith screamed in pain. She tried to grasp Zaph's hand away, but not even an inch of her body moved other than crumpled like a paper burned in a firecracker. Zaph's eyes pierced through her as he yanked the syringe away. He immediately got up, away from her. He let go a deep breath as if satisfied tormenting her. Laith, who was completely paralyzed, laid still but had her eyes grab his sight with a burning hatred.