Kronan's back full of fur was a broad mass of red. His figure a million miles apart his human form. His large fangs were fully exposed, glowing in the moonlight of the East. His ears twitched. Turning to face the being covered in lapels of darkness. 'Growl', the sound was blood thirsty, hunger shining in his golden eyes. No warning, no hesitation, he pounced. The dark witch had no time to release his scream before he was ripped in half. Kronan licked his bloody lips, pure savagery lining his hungry eyes.
********
The moonlight in Brusselie had always been beautiful. Its ethereal light shining down on the swinging willows surrounding the white jade gazebo. Nairel sat there his silver hair swaying in the moonlight. His thought were tumbling around in his head. It was about time he left. It was a choice he had to make. He had to grow stronger....for her, but his heart was trembling with pain. He sighed.
"Little Nai, what has you so disturbed. The little lady has awakened from her slumber hasn't she?" Navaiah walked up to his son and ruffled his silver strands into a mess. "Father, I'm leaving for the Vael'cryth, tonight" "mm?, why do you need to go so far?". Navaiah was truly confused, his son had always been mature. He didn't need his father for anything. Time passed and his son had grown too big to be cared for. He wasn't there when he was born. The only time his son was vulnerable, he had missed it. He came back only to see his son's frosty eyes and straight back. He had never bent his back....never! He wanted to see his son grow older. He wanted to be his father, but it seems he would miss another couple years.
A gaze filled with warmth and heart ache. His pale face tinged with anxiety and unease. Navaiah let out a deep sigh....patting his son's shoulder as he walked back to the mansion looming over the ice glazed gazebo.
*************
Nairel stood under the enchanting moonlight, his eyes once more finding his cold determination. He turned his back to the glimmering river, walking back to the looming mansion.
Raven closed off the curtains in the room, blocking out the enchanting moonlight. Her heart thumped strangely in her chest. Unease clouding her mind. She walked out from the now dark room, her steps thudding in the dim hallways.
The living room downstairs was lit with magically charged lamps.
Damian sat straight on a dark red cushion. The first two buttons on his dark shirt opened to view. His eyes resumed their lazy lidding as his straight, thin fingers swiped casually on the floating screen in front of him. Ale sat on another, his right leg crossed over the other, a dagger twirled seamlessly in his palms as he eyed the apple in his other hand. Dareevah was back in her room, her husband by her side. Darel had left, avoiding Navaiah and his list of Fae beauties.
Ale had gained a new admirer. Navaiah sat beside him ogling his knife skills. Quite perverted. Raven's dull thuds caught the attention of the men lazing around on the sofa. Their brows creased as their ears caught her pounding heartbeats. "Raven, what's the matter?" Damian asked. Her lips pursed as she sought an answer. "I'm not sure" Her thudding continued as she walked down the winding staircase.
The door let out a muffled groan as Nairel walked in, his expression the same as always_ nonexistent.
The room was silent, the pounding of her heart the only comfort. The sight of that ice cold face sent her heart into another uneasy bout.
Nairel's cold eyes fleeted past her face, there was nothing. His gaze remained on his father and Damian too. "It's about time i left" The statement caused Raven's breath to hitch. Damian looked at the dull eyed fae covered in an icy aura. 'Idiot'
Damian narrowed his eyes as he stared at Nairel's twitching lids. Nairel seemed to understand. His eyes grew wide and his tense muscles seemed to relax.
He had pulled her in. His thumping heart resonating with hers. "I....I'm glad you're okay" he sighed. It wasn't time yet.
Raven stood rooted in his embrace, the scent of Pansies, drilling into her nose. A soothing chill penetrating her very being. 'Scree', the cry was soft but it sounded like a peal of thunder in her ears. She seemed to like this embrace.
Nairel pulled away, a wider distance between them. His resolve was firmer than ever. He turned to the stunned look on his father's face, Ale's mischievous smirk and Damian's glowing red eyes. His already thumping heart received another jolt.
Nairel left a couple moments later, his father behind him still ogling Ale's handsome features.
Damian walked up to his daughter, her energy a mess. 'It seemed the idiot riled her own beast'. Damian sighed.
Raven's muscles had relaxed, a simple smile on her lips. It almost seemed the old Raven had returned.
***********
The air was damp, a bloody smell hung in the air. Salva stood still beside a motionless man strapped to a chair. His blood red eyes glowed faintly in hunger. The smell of blood lingering in his nostrils. He lowered his eyes, staring at his pale fingers. His hair was tied back with a yellow string _an unusual combination. "Tova, clean this up." He spoke to seemingly nothing. The air hummed, a reply! The shadows danced around him. A pair of savage red eyes shone in the darkness. Dull thudding echoed in the space as Tova moved to carry out his order.
Salva was Damian's army commander. He had served for centuries under his lord, pledging loyalty to the 100 year old Vampire at that time. Salva had fought in multiple savage battles at the borders_ beasts and rogues_ earning him the moniker 'Savage blood'. He commanded a division of 20,000 soldiers. A group fiercely loyal to Salva and his Lord. Tova was Salva's right arm. Another Savage feared by the world.
He slung the corpse on his shoulder, his eyes flickering with controlled bloodlust. The Man was adorned in armor made of blood steel. the dark steel wrapped around his figure, red veins pulsing on its surface. He was the very picture of 'the harbinger of blood'.
As Tova walked his way through the darkness, another soldier adorned in armor of dark red dropped on his knee before Salva "My lord. The master has called". Raising his head of black wavy hair, the silhouette of his commander was already far gone.