Mortal Pet. Immortal Master.

Mortal Pet. Immortal Master. 17

Unknown P.O.V

It was working, a few more weeks and it would be mine. She would be mine. I just had to wait, after all a few weeks were nothing compared to the grand scheme of things.

“Sir,” someone called out. “Sir, sir.”

I turned around, scowl covering my face. “What?”

“It’s not much sir, but I believe I have something you may want,” the young boy called out.

“And you would know what I want, would you?” I question, my dark humour coming into play.

“Well if it’s concerning A–”

“Don’t you dare speak that name.” I hissed. Who did this person think he was?

“Right, yes. Sorry sir,” he continued. “But about that offer, I can make things a hell of a lot easier for you.”

I contemplated the idea for a moment. He knew what I wanted, he had enough backbone to say it and was cheap. All ideas looked favourable to him.

“Sure, you’re in, kid.”

“I’m eighteen,” he responded, grinning.

Ayesha’s P.O.V:

Perfect. Perfect! Me, he said I was perfect. Me? I couldn’t comprehend the idea; it was too out there, too barbaric, preposterous even. I didn’t even look that much better. Kayla had refused to put this liquid called foundation on my face; she also refused to paint my lips.

Even so, I couldn’t be perfect, could I? I just didn’t understand, but I knew that I liked it.

“So Aaron, how are you holding up?” A voice asked. I turned to see a women standing at the door, she was strangely familiar. Her face was all sharp angles and plains, her nose straight her glasses sliding down it. All in all she wasn’t ugly nor beautiful – but achingly familiar.

“I have made arrangements for your father’s funeral, Ryan has helped me greatly,” she continued.

“Ryan. Come here a moment, I’m sure you shall want to meet someone,” she said when her eyes fell upon me. They weren’t malicious or threatening – they were filled with warmth and a slight affection. When ‘Ryan’ came into the room I gasped. His long brown hair was tied back into a lose ponytail, his beautiful grey eyes widening as they saw me.

“How?” He asked simply, running towards me, picking me up and spinning me around like he used to do back when I was a small toddler. “How is this possible? I thought I’d never see you again.”

“I thought I’d never see you again either. I was so worried, I-I feared the worst.”  I said, trying desperately not to stutter – the way he taught me so long ago. His grip on me tightened, though it wasn’t painful – he knew how weak I was and how strong he was even when we were in the cells.

It was the happiest day of my whole entire life.

Aarons P.O.V:

Who was this man, and why was he touching Ayesha? More importantly why did she let him? She wasn’t even scared of him. I really wanted to just rip his hands off her, but I didn’t.

“So, Ayesha, who is this?” Jake asked calmly.

The man holding her let go, though a second later one hand snaked it’s way around her waist. She looked up at him adoringly. I was so angry I was about to go ballistic, if not for the fact that I wanted to hear the answer I might have done.

“Well, I am her best friend. We met when she was just a little baby, the slave dealers had just captured her then. I practically raised her, and taught her all I knew.” He looked up, finally, from Ayesha’s eyes to mine.

“We have never been split up before but I made her a promise, one I intend to keep.”

“Yeah, and what would that promise be?” I taunted.

“That I would protect her from anyone who harms her in any way shape or form. I tried to do that with the slave dealers, but, well… that didn’t turn out so well,” he paused. “For either of us.”

I was about ready to blow. All this time I have tried to get her to trust me and then here comes along some old friend who I can’t even begin to compete with. It was infuriating.

“Aaron, I think you should let the two catch up, don’t cha think?” Madame Iriel asked. I looked over to Ayesha, she was looking back at me, her eyes deep pools of pleading and fear that I wouldn’t let her. I was sure my eyes were just as expressive as she shrunk back, into Ryan’s arms, afraid of my anger.

I sighed, following Madame out the door. I hated it when she would do that, shrink away from me; it made me feel like a monster. Even worse that she had to shrink into another man’s arms.

“Look Aaron,” Madame said, rounding on me. “I don’t know what your problem is with Ryan, but I have to tell you – it’s not important. What is important is the fact that we need to perfect your coronation ceremony, you need to have a funeral for your father and you need to pick out a wife.”

I balked.