He should feel her heart pumping in his hand, beating weakly as it struggled to hang on, blood dripping from in between his fingers, it’s stain on his body, the smell thick in the air and filling his lungs. His daughter should be on the floor with an open blood spilling chest, her eyes filled with horror, panic and lack of understanding that although this felt like betrayal, it was the best way to go in this circumstance.
He felt none of that though, saw none of that too, but he could smell blood.
His blood.
His sight was turning red with pain, his eyes bulging, his wolf struggling, blood running down his nose, a stiffled howl burning his throat, as he hit the ground with a thud, raising up dust with force.
Turned. Curled. Stretched.
Grunts. Groans. Stiffled howls.
He dragged his claws against the ground in jagged lines, trying to stand before the invisible forced knocked him right back down.
Pain.
So much pain.
Too much pain.
It folded him and twisted him in bone crushing ways, every command his body had excruciatingly obeyed except his eyes.
He refused to blink.
Not because of the invisible force that seemed to be twisting daggers into every part of his skin, but because his daughter was in the hands of that BloodSucker who had hazardous zig zag black poison ink, lining the exposed part of his neck, up to his face quickly, his eyes black as the very darkness that resided in his heart, sharp with monstrous threat.
He couldn’t let this happen.
His daughter would not survive the turning and she would only die in a more tragic way.
It had to be him, he had to be the one to send his daughter off.
This wolf in front of him was indeed pathetic, struggling against his hold as he pushed waves and waves of darkness into him, that feed on his soul.
How dare he?!
Trying to play smart and move away from his justice.
How foolish.
The pup in his arms was weak, weaker than any being he had ever held. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he had held a… little being like this.
This little creature was his mate’s. But no one truly cared deeply about something that wasn’t theirs.
Even for what belonged to them, most times they still cared less. He was a living testimony of that. So this wouldn’t affect his mate. Probably.
Then on a second thought, thinking of all that she had done for her so called family, maybe it was different with the wolves.
So he had decided to be merciful. As merciful as merciful could ever get.
This fragile being seem to mean a lot to his mate. Although he couldn’t understand why, considering the fact that she wasn’t even hers. The working of his mate’s mind wasn’t something he could understand no matter how hard he tried.
So he was doing this for her. She would be happy when she woke up and saw her precious little fragile thing by her side. Besides, she would want her fragile thing to live long, considering that she was his mate, she had the same life span as he did. Not now though, but once he marked her, which he knew would happen sooner than she thinks.
The pup shivered in his arms with cold and fear.
She looked so sick. Why did she look so sick?
Anyways, once she was turned, she would never look this sick again.
His bite was a salvation.
But the the foolish blood bag in front of him obviously didn’t think that. That was another reason why he had decided to turn her. He wanted him to watch as he took everything from him simply because he had tried to do the same. Wanted him to watch his own, become a “blood-sucking monster”, the very creature he hated the most. He wouldn’t be around to watch the other anyways, because once he was done with the turning, he would feed on the wolf’s soul and drain his blood.
He knew that the pup might not survive but that was on her.
Everyone must to be punished for their crimes no matter how little they or the crimes were. That, he had learnt from a very young age.
If his bite would be her salvation or her doom, her punishment or his mercy, fate would be the one to decide.
He looked away from the wolf who was now left, drained of strength but was struggling to get to them. His attention now on the pup, as he pulled her up to him, his fangs pushing out from his gums.
Laura looked around hastily.
Where was Delice?
The Execution wa already starting.
Where was she?
Where was her bracelet?!
She couldn’t watch this spectacular Execution without her bracelet. She didn’t feel whole without it.
There haven’t been many execution lately, in addiction to that, there was none where her Brother had decided to personal sire a being by turning it. The first and only person he had ever sired was Delice and that was over two centuries ago, when he was just a teenager and Delice was a little about, like what, five?
It had happened so long ago, Laura often forgot that Delice wasn’t even a Pureblood?
Where was she?!
This might never happen again. Where was this–
Ah, there!
Running towards them with her vampire speed and something in her hand– wait, that wasn’t her bracelet, what was that?!
“Stop!” Delice shouted. “Lady Delice of the WoodBurn’s House, Adviser to the King, interrupts this judgement base on a bloodoath.”
The King’s attention shifted to her, as everyone else’s, and she knew that if she wasn’t adding more details anytime soon, she might be the next person on the Execution Ground despite her noble importance.
The King hated interruptions at his judgements that much.
“Your Mate’s Bloodoath, Sire.”
As expected, that changed everything.