Page 31 of The Sanguine Selection
Another scream, the sound heating me, causing new desires to arise, to be the cause of those screams whether by pain or pleasure I do not care.
Eat. Drink. Fuck. Kill.All these desires threaten to rip me apart, assaulting my decrepit mind. And my immobile body is unable to satiate any of them.
A crack booms around me, aroundus. I realize, sensing my brother’s prone body next to mine, that we are together in this hell. Another crack, scraping, like claws are taking down my very skull. Then light. Blinding, and my immobile arms are unable to shield me from it, to take away the pain.
It hurts. But the hurt morphs into fury, and anguish, and lust.
Move,I demand of myself.Fucking move or you were never worthy of her to begin with. I shake the image of her from my mind. Vowing to never think of her again. To never allow myself to feel. To remain as hard and impenetrable as stone. Never again will I become so vulnerable, or allow my brother the weakness.
She meant nothing, a food source, a hot cunt to fuck, flesh to bite. That’s all they ever mean. There is no room for anything else.Lies. My brother’s thoughts meld with my own and after another pained scream, the stone above us shatters completely. Blood flows freely now, basking our bodies in the sweet nectar. Every drop soaks into my shriveled bones, into my dried-up skin, bringing me back from the brink of insanity.
My vision is unclear, my eyes seeing only blurry images and blinding light. Shapes above me shift, my fingers twitch.
Move dammit!
Panting. I hear panting. And moans. Tingles radiate from where this blood caresses my skin, my bones, scaling up my throat to my mouth and nose. Then it hits me, the scent…
Her scent…
I become crazed, an animal, watching myself as if hovering above my body, as if viewing an arena housing a fight to the death, and me as a spectator in the stands.
Mine,part of me declares.Mine, mine, mine.A fierce need has me trembling, my entire body thrumming with the urge to feed, to claim, to devour. Her scent, her warmth… Soft flesh and a hot cunt, heated blood housed behind throbbing veins.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
Kill…
Fuck.
Claim.
She cries again, followed by another flow of blood, and this time I can turn my head to catch some in my mouth, forcing my seized jaws to move, to take in as much of her as possible.
More. I need more.
Lifting my arms is tenuous, as if my body has become mortar between the stones of my castle.
Sinatra…
Libarryn…
What has become of our castle and coven in our absence? Part of me does not want to know the answer.
But as a mouthful of blood slithers down my dehydrated throat, I start to come alive again. I free one arm and reach up to the blurred image, to the woman I know is hovering above me. She screams again at my touch but is immobilized by fear. I can taste it, taste her terror, and it’s almost as delectable as her blood.
A wicked laugh escapes me as my bearings fall into place. The bony tips of my undead fingers grip her thigh and I pull her down to me, tous. My brother rumbles beside me, his excitement palpable, his thirst a twin to my own.
My twin…
And with the melodic sounds of her pained sobs and terrified shrieks, memories flooding back, Marek and I feast. With her blood filling me, I recall just who and what I am. Power begins to thrum within me and if I had lips, I’d be grinning almost diabolically. The king I once was no longer exists. I am less and more of who he was. More power hungry. More dominating and less kind. More cruel and less patient.
I will take without asking. I will use without consent. I will drink and fuck and kill without consequence. Feelings be damned. A stone-cold heart is much safer, stronger, more predictable. Gone are the emotions that once clouded my mind. I see clearly now, my path to the future. Marek and I are the beginning of the storm, one so powerful it will be discussed for years to come, a raging inferno passed down through generations. People to come centuries later will speak of it, of our reign, of the power the Novikov twins were able to wield.
And this time, no one will stand in our way. Not within these hearts of stone.
15
Marek
