Opposite Mates (English)
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- Parts 8
MatureOngoing1h 2m
Last published Mon, Nov 8, 2021
The door opened and I dropped through my legs. Sora and Camilla couldn't hold me anymore.
'LILY!.' cried Camilla in panic. Two cold hands caught and lifted me up at once. I was shocked and in response I threw my arms around the strangers neck.
The one who caught me was a tall man of about 6.5 feet. His dark brown hair was perfectly styled. My eyes slid over his face. The man had beautiful bright blue eyes, but he looked tired, as if he hadn't slept in days, and his beautifully shaped mouth dropped open. His teeth gleamed white.
The man was neatly dressed. He was wearing black trousers and a white shirt on top. His bright blue eyes met mine and I felt a shock run through my body. My heart seemed to skip a few times. I felt another huge stab in my side and I let out a scream.
'Clear my desk! NOW!' his voice growled. It turned black before my eyes.
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He smiled. The devil himself couldn't have crafted a more wicked grin. "What do you say we play a game, little Reaper?" I narrowed my eyes, trying to decipher his intentions. "What kind of game?" His grin widened, showing the tips of his fangs. I watched the prince curiously as he strode over to his bag. With a swift motion, he withdrew a bow and a quiver of arrows, flinging them at my feet without so much as a second glance. I furrowed my eyebrows, casting him a look of uncertainty. That sinister grin stayed plastered upon his lips as he said, "Run." *** I, Skyla Ashforth, am what some might call a "sociopath." It was a title that fit. Why shouldn't I embrace it? I am a vampire slayer, a Reaper of bloodsuckers, and an exceptionally good one, if I do say so myself. Yes, being a sociopath has its perks; I could manipulate and deceive with the best of them. So, when captured by the notorious Red Prince, I embraced the challenge of manipulating my freedom. Pierce Darcee, was a sadistic vampire with a God complex. The fool actually believed he could break me. Little did he know, I was the kind of Reaper who would dance through a battlefield, whistling a merry tune as I twirled my braids. I relished the challenge of manipulating his oversized ego, planning to stab that rotting, blackened heart of his with a venom-laced dagger. I crafted a scheme so delightful, so intricate, that I couldn't help but salivate at the prospect of victory. It was foolproof, or so my mind believed. But then... then there was that pull. That unexpected, unwelcome spark that ignited something within me. Feelings, of all things! Now, that was a complication. Disgusting, messy feelings that could very well lead to my destruction. Or his. It was a dangerous game we played, but then again, the most thrilling ones usually are. *Rated M for Murder, Mayhem, and some profanity. Sorry but no smutty interludes. You've stumbled into a blood bath, not a bodice ripper.*
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