Of Dusk And Roses

05. do not aim to please

"YOUR Majesty, forgive us. The coven was adamant to enter the mansion and created a fire downstairs," one of the guards, dressed in a suit and leather shoes like all the other ones, reported.

Demetrius dismissed him with a flick of his hand.

There was a moment of silence, allowing Wesley to take a good look at the witch.

It was funny how her red hair was of the same shade of blood flowing down to her waist like waves, but the witch knew how to make an entrance. Wesley would give her that. He was guessing that she was of power even though he had never seen her before in his life. Not that he was aware of the extent of that power. He knew that witches existed- much like the wolves, ghosts, and other supernatural beings did- but interactions with them were rare, since they weren't really part of the job description.

Aside from that, the hostile expression crossed her red lips set in a straight line. The blaze in her eyes was undeniable. Her look then shifted to being smug, and that just made Viktoir want to punch her hooked nose. (Or maybe he heard wrong from her mumbling.) Not to mention that her long terrain of a white dress was bothering. Who wore that kind of outfit in the middle of the afternoon?

"I believe this is a meeting that I called for purebloods, Tatiana," Demetrius said as he recovered from his surprise.

Tatiana simply smirked and took a few steps forward from the door. Her index finger grazed the wooden head of Demetrius' velvet chair, teasing everyone at the table when she laughed lowly right after. "I'm a pureblood," she said as a matter of factly. "Both of my parents were powerful witches, and that made me the leader of my coven for the past hundred years."

Demetrius was obviously bothered but held Tatiana's eye. "This is intended to discuss what measures we're supposed to take to ease the losses of the vampire community in the coming war to secure our future."

"Doesn't that future involve us? We all live in this hole, if you're forgetting. The moment Zenith rises, he will take revenge on all of us, not just you vampires. You do not ask for a truce and conspire with us just to leave us hanging in the air, Demetrius."

Wesley also found how Tatiana used Demetrius' name every time like a weapon against him fascinating.

"We all knew that truce among vampires, hunters, and witches was just a means to an end. The moment we took Zenith down the first time, that piece of paper was as good as burned."

Tatiana was fuming. "As expected of bloodsucking parasites."

Almost all of the vampires at the table snarled at her, their pointy fangs unleashed with the formation of dark veins around their eyes.

Wesley was still confused, but perhaps he could understand once he got someone to explain to him without lying. The existence of a truce among vampires, hunters, and witches was the last thing he could've imagined to be kept from the people. If his uncle knew about all this, then he'd have more questions to answer than Wesley did.

"What are you really here for, Tatiana?"

"I believe that this is a conversation that must be carried out privately first." Her hands tapped slowly on the table.

Gaston Fontaver's deep voice echoed in the room. "Anything you say to our king, you can say it to our faces."

Tatiana raised a perfectly sculpted brow. She looked towards Demetrius, perhaps expecting a reaction. The king said nothing and kept both of his hands together on the top of his cane.

"Very well," Tatiana said. "For the last two decades since the prophecy was foreseen, we have been trying to find a way to kill Zenith. As of now, the search is unfruitful but we did stumble upon a temporary solution."