Marienne's life was completely undone when her village went up in flames. Badly burned and her eyesight lost, she awakes in a strange place, with no knowledge of how she arrived there. Her savior was the enigmatic and alluring Victor, the Lord of Az...
Author's Note: This chapter, you might notice, is a bit of a deviation from how the story has currently been going. I hope you enjoy the insight this chapter (and others like it, when they arrive) will bring into the story and Victor's character. Also, on 8/3/24 Eyes of Azyron received its first 100 votes! I know this isn't all that noteworthy, but it was still a milestone I was keeping an eye on. Thank you all for your amazing support!
Author's Note: As of 7/11/25, this is my last edited chapter, so any plot incongruencies are kind of expected from here on out. I'm hoping to have at least another three chapters up next week, so keep an eye out for that! NOTE: This chapter also got a touch up on 7/27/25, just to tweak a couple things!
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I strode out of the garden, determined to leave Marienne and the uncomfortable creeping heartache far behind me. I fought to swallow down my anger and frustration, but who did I have to blame but myself? Of course I couldn't expect her to throw herself into my arms willingly, forsaking every teaching that had been drilled into her since she was first old enough to sit in a pew by herself.
My steps echoed through the foyer as I charged towards the stairs. A maid-I can't recall her name-scurried out of my way, her face wide and open with surprise. I could hear the hammer of her heart as I passed by. I watched the jump of her pulse in her neck, and felt a familiar burning itch in my throat. But it wouldn't do to feed off my staff, not now. I couldn't expect to keep her alive in the state I was in.
They never protested when I used them to soothe my thirst, due to some misguided loyalty. It didn't matter why, but they truly didn't understand the danger. Guilt and shame chewed inside my chest. Maybe it was wrong to expect Marienne to choose to become such a monster.
Slamming the door to my private chambers, Marienne's face drifted up out of memory again. She kept her raven dark hair elegantly braided, framing her oval face. The contrast of her creamy skin against her hair stole the breath from my lungs. And her eyes, oh, those beautiful eyes. They were grey clouds on a rainy afternoon. She felt like a distant memory I had thought long forgotten; familiar, yet new to me.
