The King's Pet

Chapter 9

. ..𓂃 ྐ❤︎ 𝒅𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒎𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 ´ཀ'

Bruce placed Lucas inside a glass, large enough for him to flutter but not escape, and leaned back in his leather chair. The cigar between his lips burned slowly, the smoke swirling around him like the thoughts in his head. With a finger, Bruce tapped the glass, watching Lucas flinch each time.

It was almost a shame to see such beauty caged...

Why did you buy me? Lucas's thoughts transferred to Bruce's. His telepathic abilities were another rarity, a trait Bruce hadn't expected.

Bruce leaned forward, resting his chin against his palm, staring longingly into those big, beady bat eyes of Lucas's. "Because you're unique," Bruce replied. And because I crave power-the kind that only a vampire can provide.

He leaned back in his chair, twirling a pen in his fingers.

"I could let you run," Bruce mused aloud, "just to watch you try. But that would be a waste, wouldn't it? You're too valuable to me, Lucas. Too... exquisite."

Bruce slowly rose from his chair and walked towards the mirror. He adjusted his tie with utmost care. He could see Lucas still trying to escape his glass cage in the mirror and he allowed himself to smile at the sight.

Lucas's tiny wings beat frantically against the confines of the glass, a useless struggle that amused Bruce. He watched with detached interest as Lucas finally managed to tip the glass over the edge of the desk. It shattered with a sharp crash, shards scattering across the floor.

His transformation was swift, like a magic trick—the bat's wings elongating into arms, the fur receding, and suddenly, he was human. He was naked, and Bruce should have averted his gaze, but he didn't.

A Greek god, indeed.

His body sculpted, every muscle defined. And still, he looked at Bruce with wide-eyed innocence, as if he'd stumbled into a world he didn't quite understand.

Bruce scoffed lightly and walked over to his desk. He pulled his coat from the back of his chair, and walked over to Lucas—who was still motionless on the ground, bound and chained by the silver, looking gaunt as ever—due to the silver poisoning in his blood.

Bruce knelt down and draped the coat over him. It was a poor substitute for clothes, but it would have to do. Bruce's mind was fulled with thoughts, each more treacherous than the last.

If anyone saw him...

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