Chapter 198: 198
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"Now then," Azrael continues, reaching up above his head with one hand, searching. There is a harsh clink of metal against metal, and a jangle of locks, but my eyes are pinpointed on Azrael, too focused to understand what he is up to. But the growing sensation of worry that tears at my insides is enough to give me a good hunch that it is nothing good.
"Enough of the idle small talk, hm? You and I have business to attend to."
Without warning, Azrael swiftly tugs down some chains dangling from the ceiling, causing dust to crumble from the space above our heads as he curls them round his wrists to get a better grip on them. Then, a wide smirk twisting his mouth into a horrifying abomination, as he lowers the dangling foundations towards my arms. Metal brushes against my skin with a cold shudder of feeling.
Oh hell no, not today. I growl inwardly. Nobody, not even Azrael, is going to so much as touch me with those chains.
Angry and desperate from the sheer lack of time I have left, I stamp down on his foot, pressing the weight of my entire body in that one step. Ordinarily, the weight of a mortal on a vampire would be little more than a feather light caress over his flesh and would have barely inflicted a scratch against the marble expanse of his skin. But my body is mortal no more, instead woven out of flesh of steel and bones of diamond, so that when my body collides with his own, a crunch can be heard beneath as my body rams into his.
In an instant, Azrael yowls, the motion causing him to draw back, wincing with a feline-like hiss. To illustrate my point further, I bring my fingers a mere inches from his throat, itching to close around it.
"Put those chains on me and I will smack you into the next dimension," I warn, raising a free hand to give meaning to my warning. To this, Azrael only glowers, his voice becoming more and more taught by the second as I continue to press my weight against him, holding him in place. Perhaps after all this he did not expect me to put up so much of a fight.
If only people would stop underestimating me. Perhaps then I wouldn't have to put them in such sticky situations.
"Little girl-" Azrael snarls, shoving me off him at last. "You have just been through several sections of the labyrinth, a labyrinth that even most of our vampires would struggle completing. You look like a washed up wreck. I would like to see you try," he whispers roughly, gripping the chains once more in his fist, chiming a warning.
Despite the fact he has almost inevitably called my bluff, and that I would certainly struggle to deal with him completely by myself, that does not render me incapable of landing a solid hit. So I keep my arm raised, hand rigid in preparation for the impact I expect to come, warning him back.
"Try me," I whisper, a grin spreading on my face that is almost as maniacal as his.
But that does not change the fact that Soren still hasn't awoken in the corner of the room. His body is still motionless, devoid of life, yet there is a nagging sensation in the back of my mind that tells me I won't have long to wait. I have to keep Azrael talking.
"Why me?" I blurt out, so suddenly that even Azrael has the nerve to look alarmed. "Why do you want me as your wife? What could I have that everyone else doesn't?"
Temporarily Azrael stops his movement, giving me a glance over, a doubtful expression on his features. Perhaps some part of him has realised I want to keep him talking, but for what reasons I doubt he has yet to discover. By the sounds of it, he believes me to be a frightened little girl, incapable of holding herself in battle, protected only by the might of her husband who has fallen at the hands of his brother.
At least that is what he thinks.
At last he tilts his head, giving me a once over, the chains in his hands lowering slightly as he runs his fingers through his hair, shrugging.
"You are a hybrid. Having both vampire and other blood are incredibly powerful and incredibly useful- not to mention you have an additional, very powerful soul. You shall bear children much more easily, and our children will sustain our legacy."
"Your legacy, you mean," I spit, hawking a globule of spit at his feet, landing right by his shoes. The vampire Prince gives me a disgusted look.
"That's enough from you," he says, voice afflicted with the tones of irritation. Raising the chains up to my wrists with one hand, he holds me in place, glancing over his shoulder to where the flame flickers on its stand.
"It is time."
Promptly, he gives his fingers a sharp snap, and all at once the air is quivering with energy, alight with a nauseating power, a spark that sends my heart thrumming inside my chest, my blood rushing through my head. Dizziness succumbs me.
In the centre of the room, the flame flares into life, flickering with a terrifying, crimson luminosity, like the eyes of a thousand vampires, swimming with the blood of their victims and bristling with their insatiable lust for blood. A wintry red light washes over the room, pallid and unnatural, causing my heart to thrum faster at every beat. Azrael's fingers tighten around my wrist.
The chalk markings on the ground spark into life, glowing with an eerie and ominous light before that red light seeps down from the flame, infecting the chalk and turning it a muddied red. I watch this process, awestruck and lost in my own nightmarish fascination. And then all at once I realise that the chalk is not simply turning red, but it is liquifying: melting into lines of a red, viscous liquid that seeps into the cracks of the ground, fumigating the room with a familiar, iron tang. A gorge rises in my throat. I almost stumble back. Blood.
Leaning over to his work bench, Azrael plucks one of the two chalices from the table, swinging the chains around his arm with the other hand, tightening his grip. Wordlessly, he moves back towards me, the chains coiling up in the air as he moves, as though manipulated by some spectre or ghost to dance vicariously through the air in snake like ribbons of doom. I watch with a star struck horror as they snake towards me, flames coiling in my blood as I attempt to put more space between Azrael and myself. That is until my back hits the wall with a heavy thud.
No where to go, it is all I can do but clench my fists, readying myself for whatever is about to come with a series of slow and steady breaths outward.
"I thought you said you weren't taking my soul," I growl, eyeing the chalice before zipping my gaze across the room to where Soren remains lying lifeless still, his body slumped at an odd angle, his arms twisted to a profuse degree. Still no sign.
Azrael throws back his head, laughing.
"Oh, I'm not! But I have to keep you quiet somehow. I would rather not have you screaming as I am trying to extract a soul. It really messes with my concentration you know," he sighs, raising a hand to his head as the chains slink closer, circling my wrists with a series of jangling motions, wreathing over each other, binding me in place. Before I know it my hands are nearly bound.
But I am surprised to find the chains are flimsy, weak, the sort of chains I could break open by sheer strength and force, or even melt off my body if I so desired. Which begs the question, why does Azrael think they are suitable to hold me? Unless...
I stop dead for a moment, testing my weight against the chains. I feel the steel bend under the force that I exude. A giddy feeling rises in my head.
He doesn't know the extent of my power.
But its best I don't let him know that.
Come on, I think, glancing over to Soren once more. Is that a twitch? A movement of the eyes? In the rippling crimson light, it is hard to tell what's what, let alone whether my husband is moving on the other side of the room. But I cannot break now. Just a little longer...
"You are foul, you know that," I hiss at Azrael, backing up further against the wall as he approaches step by step, no hurry in his pace, for he knows he can take his time. Arrogant bastard.
"A stupid, foul, arrogant selfish prick. And I am not going to let you go through with this."
Azrael's grin widens, his fingers slipping beneath my chin.
"Oh yeah? And what makes you so sure?"
At the other end of the room, Soren's eyes snap open.
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"Now then," Azrael continues, reaching up above his head with one hand, searching. There is a harsh clink of metal against metal, and a jangle of locks, but my eyes are pinpointed on Azrael, too focused to understand what he is up to. But the growing sensation of worry that tears at my insides is enough to give me a good hunch that it is nothing good.
"Enough of the idle small talk, hm? You and I have business to attend to."
Without warning, Azrael swiftly tugs down some chains dangling from the ceiling, causing dust to crumble from the space above our heads as he curls them round his wrists to get a better grip on them. Then, a wide smirk twisting his mouth into a horrifying abomination, as he lowers the dangling foundations towards my arms. Metal brushes against my skin with a cold shudder of feeling.
Oh hell no, not today. I growl inwardly. Nobody, not even Azrael, is going to so much as touch me with those chains.
Angry and desperate from the sheer lack of time I have left, I stamp down on his foot, pressing the weight of my entire body in that one step. Ordinarily, the weight of a mortal on a vampire would be little more than a feather light caress over his flesh and would have barely inflicted a scratch against the marble expanse of his skin. But my body is mortal no more, instead woven out of flesh of steel and bones of diamond, so that when my body collides with his own, a crunch can be heard beneath as my body rams into his.
In an instant, Azrael yowls, the motion causing him to draw back, wincing with a feline-like hiss. To illustrate my point further, I bring my fingers a mere inches from his throat, itching to close around it.
"Put those chains on me and I will smack you into the next dimension," I warn, raising a free hand to give meaning to my warning. To this, Azrael only glowers, his voice becoming more and more taught by the second as I continue to press my weight against him, holding him in place. Perhaps after all this he did not expect me to put up so much of a fight.
If only people would stop underestimating me. Perhaps then I wouldn't have to put them in such sticky situations.
"Little girl-" Azrael snarls, shoving me off him at last. "You have just been through several sections of the labyrinth, a labyrinth that even most of our vampires would struggle completing. You look like a washed up wreck. I would like to see you try," he whispers roughly, gripping the chains once more in his fist, chiming a warning.
Despite the fact he has almost inevitably called my bluff, and that I would certainly struggle to deal with him completely by myself, that does not render me incapable of landing a solid hit. So I keep my arm raised, hand rigid in preparation for the impact I expect to come, warning him back.
"Try me," I whisper, a grin spreading on my face that is almost as maniacal as his.
But that does not change the fact that Soren still hasn't awoken in the corner of the room. His body is still motionless, devoid of life, yet there is a nagging sensation in the back of my mind that tells me I won't have long to wait. I have to keep Azrael talking.
"Why me?" I blurt out, so suddenly that even Azrael has the nerve to look alarmed. "Why do you want me as your wife? What could I have that everyone else doesn't?"
Temporarily Azrael stops his movement, giving me a glance over, a doubtful expression on his features. Perhaps some part of him has realised I want to keep him talking, but for what reasons I doubt he has yet to discover. By the sounds of it, he believes me to be a frightened little girl, incapable of holding herself in battle, protected only by the might of her husband who has fallen at the hands of his brother.
At least that is what he thinks.
At last he tilts his head, giving me a once over, the chains in his hands lowering slightly as he runs his fingers through his hair, shrugging.
"You are a hybrid. Having both vampire and other blood are incredibly powerful and incredibly useful- not to mention you have an additional, very powerful soul. You shall bear children much more easily, and our children will sustain our legacy."
"Your legacy, you mean," I spit, hawking a globule of spit at his feet, landing right by his shoes. The vampire Prince gives me a disgusted look.
"That's enough from you," he says, voice afflicted with the tones of irritation. Raising the chains up to my wrists with one hand, he holds me in place, glancing over his shoulder to where the flame flickers on its stand.
"It is time."
Promptly, he gives his fingers a sharp snap, and all at once the air is quivering with energy, alight with a nauseating power, a spark that sends my heart thrumming inside my chest, my blood rushing through my head. Dizziness succumbs me.
In the centre of the room, the flame flares into life, flickering with a terrifying, crimson luminosity, like the eyes of a thousand vampires, swimming with the blood of their victims and bristling with their insatiable lust for blood. A wintry red light washes over the room, pallid and unnatural, causing my heart to thrum faster at every beat. Azrael's fingers tighten around my wrist.
The chalk markings on the ground spark into life, glowing with an eerie and ominous light before that red light seeps down from the flame, infecting the chalk and turning it a muddied red. I watch this process, awestruck and lost in my own nightmarish fascination. And then all at once I realise that the chalk is not simply turning red, but it is liquifying: melting into lines of a red, viscous liquid that seeps into the cracks of the ground, fumigating the room with a familiar, iron tang. A gorge rises in my throat. I almost stumble back. Blood.
Leaning over to his work bench, Azrael plucks one of the two chalices from the table, swinging the chains around his arm with the other hand, tightening his grip. Wordlessly, he moves back towards me, the chains coiling up in the air as he moves, as though manipulated by some spectre or ghost to dance vicariously through the air in snake like ribbons of doom. I watch with a star struck horror as they snake towards me, flames coiling in my blood as I attempt to put more space between Azrael and myself. That is until my back hits the wall with a heavy thud.
No where to go, it is all I can do but clench my fists, readying myself for whatever is about to come with a series of slow and steady breaths outward.
"I thought you said you weren't taking my soul," I growl, eyeing the chalice before zipping my gaze across the room to where Soren remains lying lifeless still, his body slumped at an odd angle, his arms twisted to a profuse degree. Still no sign.
Azrael throws back his head, laughing.
"Oh, I'm not! But I have to keep you quiet somehow. I would rather not have you screaming as I am trying to extract a soul. It really messes with my concentration you know," he sighs, raising a hand to his head as the chains slink closer, circling my wrists with a series of jangling motions, wreathing over each other, binding me in place. Before I know it my hands are nearly bound.
But I am surprised to find the chains are flimsy, weak, the sort of chains I could break open by sheer strength and force, or even melt off my body if I so desired. Which begs the question, why does Azrael think they are suitable to hold me? Unless...
I stop dead for a moment, testing my weight against the chains. I feel the steel bend under the force that I exude. A giddy feeling rises in my head.
He doesn't know the extent of my power.
But its best I don't let him know that.
Come on, I think, glancing over to Soren once more. Is that a twitch? A movement of the eyes? In the rippling crimson light, it is hard to tell what's what, let alone whether my husband is moving on the other side of the room. But I cannot break now. Just a little longer...
"You are foul, you know that," I hiss at Azrael, backing up further against the wall as he approaches step by step, no hurry in his pace, for he knows he can take his time. Arrogant bastard.
"A stupid, foul, arrogant selfish prick. And I am not going to let you go through with this."
Azrael's grin widens, his fingers slipping beneath my chin.
"Oh yeah? And what makes you so sure?"
At the other end of the room, Soren's eyes snap open.
"Now then," Azrael continues, reaching up above his head with one hand, searching. There is a harsh clink of metal against metal, and a jangle of locks, but my eyes are pinpointed on Azrael, too focused to understand what he is up to. But the growing sensation of worry that tears at my insides is enough to give me a good hunch that it is nothing good."Enough of the idle small talk, hm? You and I have business to attend to."Without warning, Azrael swiftly tugs down some chains dangling from the ceiling, causing dust to crumble from the space above our heads as he curls them round his wrists to get a better grip on them. Then, a wide smirk twisting his mouth into a horrifying abomination, as he lowers the dangling foundations towards my arms. Metal brushes against my skin with a cold shudder of feeling. Oh hell no, not today. I growl inwardly. Nobody, not even Azrael, is going to so much as touch me with those chains.Angry and desperate from the sheer lack of time I have left, I stamp down on his foot, pressing the weight of my entire body in that one step. Ordinarily, the weight of a mortal on a vampire would be little more than a feather light caress over his flesh and would have barely inflicted a scratch against the marble expanse of his skin. But my body is mortal no more, instead woven out of flesh of steel and bones of diamond, so that when my body collides with his own, a crunch can be heard beneath as my body rams into his.In an instant, Azrael yowls, the motion causing him to draw back, wincing with a feline-like hiss. To illustrate my point further, I bring my fingers a mere inches from his throat, itching to close around it."Put those chains on me and I will smack you into the next dimension," I warn, raising a free hand to give meaning to my warning. To this, Azrael only glowers, his voice becoming more and more taught by the second as I continue to press my weight against him, holding him in place. Perhaps after all this he did not expect me to put up so much of a fight.If only people would stop underestimating me. Perhaps then I wouldn't have to put them in such sticky situations."Little girl-" Azrael snarls, shoving me off him at last. "You have just been through several sections of the labyrinth, a labyrinth that even most of our vampires would struggle completing. You look like a washed up wreck. I would like to see you try," he whispers roughly, gripping the chains once more in his fist, chiming a warning. Despite the fact he has almost inevitably called my bluff, and that I would certainly struggle to deal with him completely by myself, that does not render me incapable of landing a solid hit. So I keep my arm raised, hand rigid in preparation for the impact I expect to come, warning him back."Try me," I whisper, a grin spreading on my face that is almost as maniacal as his.But that does not change the fact that Soren still hasn't awoken in the corner of the room. His body is still motionless, devoid of life, yet there is a nagging sensation in the back of my mind that tells me I won't have long to wait. I have to keep Azrael talking."Why me?" I blurt out, so suddenly that even Azrael has the nerve to look alarmed. "Why do you want me as your wife? What could I have that everyone else doesn't?"Temporarily Azrael stops his movement, giving me a glance over, a doubtful expression on his features. Perhaps some part of him has realised I want to keep him talking, but for what reasons I doubt he has yet to discover. By the sounds of it, he believes me to be a frightened little girl, incapable of holding herself in battle, protected only by the might of her husband who has fallen at the hands of his brother.At least that is what he thinks.At last he tilts his head, giving me a once over, the chains in his hands lowering slightly as he runs his fingers through his hair, shrugging."You are a hybrid. Having both vampire and other blood are incredibly powerful and incredibly useful- not to mention you have an additional, very powerful soul. You shall bear children much more easily, and our children will sustain our legacy.""Your legacy, you mean," I spit, hawking a globule of spit at his feet, landing right by his shoes. The vampire Prince gives me a disgusted look."That's enough from you," he says, voice afflicted with the tones of irritation. Raising the chains up to my wrists with one hand, he holds me in place, glancing over his shoulder to where the flame flickers on its stand."It is time."Promptly, he gives his fingers a sharp snap, and all at once the air is quivering with energy, alight with a nauseating power, a spark that sends my heart thrumming inside my chest, my blood rushing through my head. Dizziness succumbs me. In the centre of the room, the flame flares into life, flickering with a terrifying, crimson luminosity, like the eyes of a thousand vampires, swimming with the blood of their victims and bristling with their insatiable lust for blood. A wintry red light washes over the room, pallid and unnatural, causing my heart to thrum faster at every beat. Azrael's fingers tighten around my wrist.The chalk markings on the ground spark into life, glowing with an eerie and ominous light before that red light seeps down from the flame, infecting the chalk and turning it a muddied red. I watch this process, awestruck and lost in my own nightmarish fascination. And then all at once I realise that the chalk is not simply turning red, but it is liquifying: melting into lines of a red, viscous liquid that seeps into the cracks of the ground, fumigating the room with a familiar, iron tang. A gorge rises in my throat. I almost stumble back. Blood.Leaning over to his work bench, Azrael plucks one of the two chalices from the table, swinging the chains around his arm with the other hand, tightening his grip. Wordlessly, he moves back towards me, the chains coiling up in the air as he moves, as though manipulated by some spectre or ghost to dance vicariously through the air in snake like ribbons of doom. I watch with a star struck horror as they snake towards me, flames coiling in my blood as I attempt to put more space between Azrael and myself. That is until my back hits the wall with a heavy thud.No where to go, it is all I can do but clench my fists, readying myself for whatever is about to come with a series of slow and steady breaths outward."I thought you said you weren't taking my soul," I growl, eyeing the chalice before zipping my gaze across the room to where Soren remains lying lifeless still, his body slumped at an odd angle, his arms twisted to a profuse degree. Still no sign. Azrael throws back his head, laughing."Oh, I'm not! But I have to keep you quiet somehow. I would rather not have you screaming as I am trying to extract a soul. It really messes with my concentration you know," he sighs, raising a hand to his head as the chains slink closer, circling my wrists with a series of jangling motions, wreathing over each other, binding me in place. Before I know it my hands are nearly bound.But I am surprised to find the chains are flimsy, weak, the sort of chains I could break open by sheer strength and force, or even melt off my body if I so desired. Which begs the question, why does Azrael think they are suitable to hold me? Unless...I stop dead for a moment, testing my weight against the chains. I feel the steel bend under the force that I exude. A giddy feeling rises in my head.He doesn't know the extent of my power.But its best I don't let him know that.Come on, I think, glancing over to Soren once more. Is that a twitch? A movement of the eyes? In the rippling crimson light, it is hard to tell what's what, let alone whether my husband is moving on the other side of the room. But I cannot break now. Just a little longer..."You are foul, you know that," I hiss at Azrael, backing up further against the wall as he approaches step by step, no hurry in his pace, for he knows he can take his time. Arrogant bastard."A stupid, foul, arrogant selfish prick. And I am not going to let you go through with this."Azrael's grin widens, his fingers slipping beneath my chin."Oh yeah? And what makes you so sure?"At the other end of the room, Soren's eyes snap open.
