Mortal Pet. Immortal Master.

Mortal Pet. Immortal Master. 3

Aaron’s P.O.V:

She wouldn’t get out of the cage. Disobedient little wench, why I should just leave her there, but then my father would probably chuck a tantrum. I noticed that she was shivering, was she cold? No, it is quiet hot in this room – it must be fear.

I sighed, and reached out to her, grabbing her by the shoulders. She flinched, her head stayed down but I could see her tears. Stupid girl, humans are just pathetic.

“Son, give her your shirt.” My father ordered me. I gave him a disgusted glance, but did so anyway. I grabbed her arms and yanked them over her head, pulling the shirt down as well.

“Th-th-thank you-ou.” She whispered. Her dirty hair covering her face. I was disgusted, she was probably carrying all sorts of germs – not that vampires could get sick – and my father wanted me to befriend the little vermin. Never.

I picked her up under her arms and handed her to my father. He took her off of my hands. My father proceeded to carry her up to my room. She was shaking and whimpering all the way. Stupid human.

When we got to my room my father set her on the bed then walked over to me. “Son, I do not want you to leave this room until she is no longer afraid of you. Got that?” He hissed, using his business tone.

“Yes,” I sighed, there was no getting out of this. My father then gave me a glare while walking out the room.

I walked up to her shivering form and sighed. Humans were so weak compared to vampires; humans couldn’t even hurt a vampire, even a starved, half dead one. And this human, well she was weak, weaker than any other human I’ve ever seen in my entire life.

It was pitiful really. I looked down at her. She was still shivering; I expect that I have scared her for the rest of her miserable life.

“What’s your name girl?” I barked. She looked up at me, tears of fright in her green eyes. They spilled over and she looked down again. I growled and watched her flinch away in pleasure – it was never okay for a slave to not answer her master.

I came right up to her, sitting on the bed near her. I noticed the difference in our sizes – she was around 5”3’ and I was 6”2’, she was to skinny to be healthy and I was the perfect weight.

“Answer me, girl. Or else I will have no choice but to punish you.” I hissed menacingly. It worked.

“I-I’m s-s-sorry, Master. I-I do n-not have a-a na-a-me.” She said, through sobs. She was terrified of my proximity, but would not move away in fear that I would punish her.

Wait! WHAT? No name? She must be joking.

“Tell me the truth. I have no patience for liars.” I growled. She flinched again, her body instinctively trying to get away.

“M-master, I-I’m not ly-lying.” She whispered, but I did not believe her. How could she not have a name, did her parents not love her?

“Why, that’s just about the STUPIDEST thing I’ve ever heard in my LIFE.” I roared at her. She began to shake even more ferociously. “Did your parents NOT LOVE YOU, or where you too STUPID to REMEMBER?” I yelled.

She was sobbing once again. “I-I never kn-knew my pa-parents. I-I-I wa-as taken at b-b-birth.” She whimpered, shrinking down onto the mattress, trying to hide.

I was so furious that I slapped her, hard. She went flying of the bed and into a wall, I smirked. “Do not EVER lie to me again.” I growled, laying down on the bed.

All night I could hear her sobs, and all night I growled at her to shut up. In the morning I heard my father coming up the stairs to my room. Shit. What was I going to do with her? She was still sobbing.

“Son, I can hear her and if I come home after my business trip and she is still like that then I will personally make sure you do not get the throne.” My father said, standing outside the door still. I glared at her; it was all her fault – if only she told me the truth straight up then none of us would be in this mess.

I got up and went out the door to talk to my father. “It’s not my fault that she is blubbering in there. She should have just told me her name.” I said to my father.

“She was not lying, my son, she doesn’t have a have a name. Make her happy and let her pick a name, make a big deal out of it. Use words like ‘sweetheart’, ‘darling’, ‘my dear’, ‘little one’; anything to make her feel at home. Got it?” I nodded, surprised that she truly didn’t have a name.

Her P.O.V:

My master walked back into the room, a scowl upon his face. I felt bad for him, I truly did; it was because of me that he might not get to be king anymore. I was so stupid and ugly and pathetic. He was right. My parents obviously didn’t love me, because of those things. Those thoughts brought tears to my eyes.

“Hey, little one, I’ve got an idea.” He said, I was surprised that his tone wasn’t its usual harsh command. It actually sounded nice. I looked up; his eyes were burning into mine. Fresh tears ran down my cheeks. It was no joke, he seriously was being nice.

“Let’s give you a name.” He stated. I was shocked, he actually wanted to do something for me. Giving me a name would mean that I was worth something; did he really think that.

“Why?” I mouthed wordlessly, still shocked. He smiled, actually smiled, his eyes full of interest.

“Because, little one, because…” He murmured. He held out his hand to me, beckoning me with his eyes. I put my hand in his much larger one, my arms trembling with fear – I was waiting to be hurt as this was too good to be true.