Derrick

One.

This is a short chapter, with only 891 words. If you haven't read Sebastian, this story will be very confusing. If you don't want to read Sebastian, though, this book CAN be read as a stand-alone, if you stick with it. The cover is a TEMPORARY cover, until I have the time to make a better one. Please excuse any spelling errors, thank you for reading!

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There was a vibrant orange glow radiating from the horizon, and the familiar sense of dread settled itself in my stomach. Derrick had left earlier in the day, wearing a boyish grin and his hunting gear. I knew the sunny aura was a result of his tyranny; he'd been so excited to "expand his kingdom".

And this was only the beginning. He'd become obsessed with taking towns and villages over by brute force, rather than strategic planning or even simple compromise. I couldn't hear the screams erupting from the town he'd set ablaze, but it didn't take a developed imagination to picture what it sounded and looked like.

I pulled the curtains over the seemingly beautiful view and opened my closet. A pang of fear and guilt shot through my chest as I foolishly expected to see a sleeping black kitten on the closet floor, and I dug my hands into my hair. I was going mad. I paced my room like a caged animal, tortured by my thoughts. In a burst of anger, I slammed the closet door shut. The ridiculously ornate hinges squealed in protest.

I never wanted this. I'd never wanted Sebastian, in the beginning.

I traded one king for another. And I didn't want either one.

Derrick was never in a steady temperament. One moment, he'd caress my face and whisper reassurances in my ear. The next, he'd strike the same cheek with the same hand, and shout profanities with the same mouth. I never knew what to expect, and I dreaded any minute with him.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the large mirror by the door. My cheeks were red, and my chest heaved up and down with each angry breath I took. I told myself to calm down. Derrick was a very suspicious king; if he saw me like this, he'd assume I was up to something. Or that I'd lash out.

I made myself breathe slower, deeper. I refused to look at the window, sure that the orange light would be shining through the white curtains. I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the wall, shoving the hatred in my chest. Like I'd learned to do with every emotion since being held captive by him.

Just as my breathing turned normal, the doorknob moved. I didn't bother trying to scurry under the large comforter; Derrick was something more, but nobody knew what he was. He wasn't a vampire or a werewolf, but he was something. With supernatural hearing that a simple wooden door couldn't hinder.

"You can't imagine how exhilarating that was," he was saying as he opened the door. I looked at him and gave him an empty smile. The forced gesture made my stomach turn. He grinned back, but I was sure he noticed the lingering bitterness in my expression. He came and sat beside me, grabbing my hand. His was warm, and I let myself relax a little. When he was feeling violent, he'd squeeze my hand painfully. Instead, his touch was gentle, almost hesitant.

"I was thinking," he began. "I want you to come with me next time."

My eyes widened, and the hatred rose again like bile in my throat. Not caring about the consequences, I opened my mouth to refuse.

"I know, I know," he spoke before I could. "But you don't realize the gravity of the situation." His hand tightened on mine, and he openly glared at me. He never liked not getting what he wanted. I glared right back; this was something I would never do.

"This village I want." His voice was sharp and staccato. "Your dog is in it. His little pack is, too. They're all taking refuge in this village, plotting to kill me." His voice grew louder as he spoke.

"I-" I began.

"I was going to offer you something," He spat. I saw his mood skyrocketing down, and it made me wary.

"I was going to say I'm sorry," I said, making my voice soft. The lie came easily, a skill I'd acquired in his custody. His face changed immediately, and his grip on my hand lessened. His moods changed so fast that I could barely keep up.

"For what?" His voice, too, was soft.

"Being so quick to get mad." I murmured, staring at the floor. The mattress shifted as he moved closer and put an arm around me. I fought to keep my eyes from rolling.

"No no," he said. "Don't be sorry. I'll finish my idea."

"Okay."

"You'd be upset if I killed him." He didn't specify who "he" was, and because he had both of my "hes" in a position of peril, I wasn't sure who he meant.

"Yes." I answered anyway.

He was silent for a long moment, probably thinking.

"I like him. He just needs to know where his loyalties lie. And I'm sure, when I show him as much, his...friends will join me with him. This is a very strategic move, you see." He murmured. I nodded, wanting to placate him while he was on the right track.

"So I want you to come with me and urge him and his friends to go home with us." He finished. I tried not to gape, and nodded wordlessly. His answering grin was as dazzling as it was endearing; it'd be a lie to say he wasn't gorgeous.

I didn't know what my plan was, but I knew this was the only Isaac would stay alive.