Penance ↠ Volturi Kings {2} ✓

08

"Relax," Caesar said when he saw my stricken expression. "I will not harm you. Nor will I reveal who you are."

"Why are you helping me?" I whispered.

"What, do you think the Volturi are the only ones the Romanians have wronged?" He asked with a scoff. "We seem to have similar motives, you and I. I suppose that makes us allies, however foolish you may be."

"I was left with no other options," I snapped. "Why'd you ask why I'm here, anyway? Can't you see that in my face?"

"My gift does allow that, yes. But not in the way you're thinking. I know why you're here. Not your reasoning behind it," Caesar said. "Regardless, you are lucky."

"Lucky," I repeated, tone flat.

"As if me concealing you isn't lucky enough," Caesar said brusquely. "You are lucky the Romanians agreed to allow me to sire you."

"Sire me?" I repeated.

He breathed deeply through his nose. "Yes. Sire you, change you, they are the same. You are incredibly lucky. Do you truly think that those who create newborn armies would emerge unscathed without some way to control them?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Gods, what did the Cullens and Volturi even teach you? Newborns are uncontrollable for the first year except for by their sire. Towards their sire a newborn holds unfaltering loyalty. Be thankful that it will be my venom in your veins and not theirs."

"So I'm just going to, what? Follow you unquestioningly? Be willing to die for you?" I asked.

"Lay down here," Caesar ordered, motioning to the bedframe he had lead me to. "And, to answer your questions, yes. Not that I would ever ask you to lay down your life for me. You're far too important for that."

"Oh," I said. I sat down on the bedframe, uncomfortable.

"Lay down and take off your shirt," Caesar ordered.

"I- what?" I asked. "I'm not taking off my shirt! Just bite my arm or something!"

"Things are done differently here," he said. "The sooner you do this, the sooner it's over."

I complied, reluctantly tugging off my jacket before pulling my shirt over my head. "I don't like this."

"I don't doubt it. But if you weren't prepared to face the consequences, you wouldn't have come," Caesar said. "Lay down as flat as you can. I'll be back in a moment."

"Alright," I said, the cold metal of the bedframe chilling my back and shoulders. Caesar returned, a shallow tray in hand. "What's that?"

"My venom," he said simply. He walked off towards the end of the room. "Stay put."

I didn't like how he treated me like a disobedient child, but I did as he said. I couldn't see what he was doing over the other bedframes and screaming, writhing people.

"This is going to hurt," Caesar said. For the first time, he actually sounded apologetic.

"Whoa, whoa, what is that?" I asked, scooting away from the metal rod he was holding. The end was circular and fashioned into what looked to be a crude sort of crest. It was also white hot.

"Lay down," he ordered again. "Just hold still. It will hurt more if you struggle."

He dipped the white-hot end of the metal into his venom. I was panicking.

"We all have one, even those that were turned before they arrived here," he said, pushing me down flat on the bed. I yelped. "It's barbaric. A testament of our loyalty," he sneered. "Welcome to the Romanian coven."