Obsession is the height of passion, but what does one do when they find themselves enthralled with their enemy. Talamayas Sol loses his mother when he stumbles upon a mage in the deserts of his territory, and he is plunged into a despair he's never...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Talamayas," Shan called to him, but he hadn't moved much lately.
Since Wren had left, he'd fallen into sluggish roll that didn't often get him out of bed. Down in his room, he had been sleeping on his cot, the one near the dungeon entrance so that he could be close to Wren. But Wren wasn't there anymore. Waking and sleeping seemed to have no difference as he wondered what he really did on any given day in the desert. They never left, explored, or allowed anyone in, and he wondered if his people did not want those things.
Wren had wanted those things.
"Tala!" Shan raised his voice, and Tala sat up from his bed with a groan of agony at being conscious. The man wouldn't be so insistent unless it was important.
"What, Shan?" Tala asked, running a hand through his hair in frustration.
He could use a shower. It was hot in the desert and he hadn't been down to the baths in a few days, so he likely smelled of sand and the dry air around the castle, like old stone and dust that never moved. Nothing ever seemed to move with him. Somehow he was stuck in this desert, alone and yearning for something else that he could never find.
"Wren is back," Shan said, and Tala jumped to his feet. It was with a little too much energy because Shan frowned. The man had never liked his attachment to the mage, but that didn't stop Tala from passing him to go out into the hall.
"What does he want?" Tala asked as Shan caught up and led him out into the greeting hall.
"Not sure. He doesn't look good," Shan said as they arrived.
Tala found Wren crumpled on the ground, his red hair splayed out on the floor as he gasped for his breath with his face on the tiles. An immediate spark of protectiveness had Tala stiffening his muscles to resist the urge to go to him as his men looked to him for guidance. His guards had given him a wide berth where he lay, keeping back but watching the man who didn't look good enough to move anywhere. No one knew what to do with him with the blood writ, Tala even less.
"Tala," Wren rasped his name but didn't make it to the second half as he turned his head on the floor.
The scent of blood filled Tala's nostrils, and his fangs lengthened in desire to touch the man, but he remained where he was standing. The protective urge would only frighten him, and Tala had not once successfully done anything by being close to Wren that made something better.
"If he was in a scuffle with another vampire house, we should toss him back out into the sands," Shan said, his hand on his hip and his lips rolled back into a disgusted scowl.
Tala nearly crushed the man's throat. He had to stop his hand mid-strike as he realized what he was doing, and Shan took a quick step back, surprised by the hostility. He should be. Shan was his first general and had been around since before him and his mother. Tala loved him, as he did the rest of him family, but something about him threatening Wren had him violently protective.
