Silver Skin

32

Beauty amongst the beasts
~
Accalia
~

The ringing in the base of her eardrums rang like roars of lycans and clangs of swords.

It was one of those times that didn't cross Accalia's mind often, where she would much rather lock herself up in her room at her father's house. The home of hunters, the house that reeked of bleach and blood stains.

After the many deaths of her family, her father didn't offer her much and didn't provide what she needed, but he gave her a tower as a room to hide within.

It was a secure cubby to ignore what loomed on the outside. Lycans and werewolves killing hunters — Accalia's people reacting just as bloodily. A continuous cycle of bloodshed and battles that never ceased.

And Accalia wished she was there now. Secure, tucked away from any form of evil that craved to plague her in pain.

Because anything, everything would beat the cold and blistering fixation storming Adriana's face.

Adriana was perfectly, faultlessly sculpted. Her face was measured with reverting desire, made to draw someone in with her lush lips that were painted crimson, high cheekbones that sat sharp and a face that read blood and lust.

She was sophisticated, ravishing and unmistakably pissed.

Adriana glided her fingers across her dark cherry hair, twisting at the strands as her bloody orbs glowered down at them. They were beneath her while she sat high on her throne.

"Melina," Adriana ushered out in a hiss of a whisper.

Accalia's heart spiked and the ringing in her ears dulled as Melina moved to the vampire, her body shaking with excitement.

"Yes, my Queen?"

Adriana's lips thinned. "Bring me my whip."

Melina's eyes filled with eagerness. "Without question."

The she-lycan sashayed away and Adriana rose from her throne, standing before them like a goddess. A goddess of night and blood.

As she strolled down the steps and back to the ground her subjects stood stagnant upon, awaiting her judgements, she ordered someone to close the doors.

The invitation of escape was never there, to begin with, but Accalia still went cold in the skin as those two wide and large doors banged closed.

The people around Accalia shifted, closing in on each other as every single of them, including the distasteful Alexene came close as one.

Tristan and Cadence were by Accalia's shoulders, the Larren family standing in a lineup as the others were behind, their bodies so close, warmth filled all around like a welcoming halo.

But coldness will creep over their shoulders, an icy allure to be accepted and if they declined, they would be whisked into the shadows anyway. Without a say, a fraction of disapproval, just a solid and unforgiving demand of what will happen ... by the command of Adriana.

And Accalia wasn't ready. No part of her was prepared to be taken into the depths of the abyss and wait till one by one, they would be bitten or torn apart.

No part of her was ready.

Melina returned, her spill of gold dress illuminating her savage grin and darkening eyes.

She prowled with pride, a long whip in hand.

Accalia bit back a stifling gasp. The whip was weaved with both leather and metal. A crisscross pattern and it looked light to carry and just as harassing to lay upon the skin.