Beast of the Damned #2

*Chapter Three*

~ TRISTAN ~

Conversations are in full swing as is the wine, brandy, and fountain of flowing 98.7-degree lustrous burgundy when I arrive at the royal dining hall, the feast already underway. Female myru dressed in sheer gowns carry delicacies and drinks on silver trays while their male counterparts wear gray pants and only their collars.

Contrary to some human fables, my kind are capable of eating the foods this planet produces. It's not something I enjoy partaking in often. I prefer sustenance that will nourish my body to its maximum potential. The foods of this earth simply don't provide the kind of nourishment I seek.

Dirt and dried blood speckle my armor from the rounds I made in the nearby villages. I needed to make sure I didn't lose any of my warriors due to scruples over virgin humans. The irony of their death would be too great as the sacrifice of seven chaste humans is what gave them new life. Needless to say, the majority of my time was spent breaking up altercations between the two armies that had nothing to do with humans.

The vamperial warriors do not like that the army of the damned is given more freedom to embrace their savage nature nor that they cannot be commanded to do the Prince's bidding as they must. The Prince likes to use the Warriors of the Damned to instill terror in the humans while he uses the vamperial army to enforce the new decrees.

Wicked musings cause a chill to awaken the nerves running the length of my spine. I know exactly what the Prince of Darkness uses me for. How do you instill fear in subjects that are the stuff human nightmares are made of?

You send me.

The Dark Prince rises from his seat at the table positioned at the head of the room. He clinks his glass with a knife, signaling for everyone to take their seats. I make my way to the seat between my father and Nakasha. All the generals present have been asked to sit at the Prince's table.

My focus lingers on the four massarra sitting silently on the chairs against the far back wall. Their hands are folded in their laps as they sit poised like human statues. On the other side of them are three young adolescent human females. For a second, seeing them leaves me perplex as none of them are sporting collars or chokers as all human slaves in the castle do.

It isn't until I spot the silver serpent bracelets on their wrists that it hits me why they are allowed to sit in a place of such high esteem. They are massarra-in-waiting. The Prince must be planning to take a new massarra. He hasn't turned another human immortal since—unfathomable hunger ignites in my gut. The mere thought of Kinley twists the ice that lives in me into a burning inferno.

Heaven's knocking.

Hell's waiting.

And I'm salivating.

Rather heatedly, I take a seat. Forbidden is such a finite word. I never had trouble understanding it until her.

Perhaps our deal is why the Prince is seeking fresh blood among his Massarra. I'd like to believe this means he is accepting neither of us can have what we want, yet I know better. He is up to something. He is always up to something.

I've been back in Valderanna for ten hours. Already I long to escape this place.

"As many of you know, our great achievements were made possible by the devotion of our kind who wished to see the day where they could walk among the humans. A day they would be free from the shadows they were forced to live in. It was a plan set long ago. One that could not be rushed." The Dark Prince addresses the mixed room of noble and ancient vampirie.

"Join me in raising a glass in thanks to our Creator," he continues, lifting his glass of wine high in the air, "who allowed us to have our sons and daughters back from the dead. To the Norvak's, who located every power grid and army base the human faction built. And to the warrior bloodline and the commanders who have fought so that our take over would be swift and brutal. May we all relish in the victories that will ensure a more glorious future for our kind."