Page 22 of Omission: Part 2

All three men release a pathetic sound akin to a whimper and Theodore’s face thunders, his expression one of disgust that is mirrored by Tero.

One of the three shifts a bit, tilting his head behind him as much as he can without drawing too much attention to himself. He finds nothing. Not a single stone is out of place, even as the tip of my blade hovers close to his neck.

Just a few inches.

Yet nothing. He can’t find the threat.

Another thing I’ve mastered over the last century. Since the day my gift presented itself, the anger and pain fueling my magic, I learned to project the ability to become invisible past my body. I’ve made it possible to extend and encompass anything within my grip, allowing it to become one with me and unseen by the eye.

You will never know I’m there until I allow it.

“Let’s begin.” Theo’s voice reverberates throughout the field, his ire palpable, and the vampires present hiss before baring their necks. It’s a sign of respect, the ultimate trust between a king and his people. “Who paid you to betray your king? My family?”

“Your Majesty, I’m so?—”

“Silence!” He’s looking at me as he says this, and I bring the dirtied, blood-tipped blade across the idiot’s throat. I saw through multiple layers of vampiric flesh, ignoring the gurgling sounds leaving his throat—from one side to the other—until his head hangs back at an awkward angle in my hold.

Held by a few vertebrae that I’ll snap clean off when the time comes.

His ability to scream, much less verbally cry for mercy, is gone. There’s no windpipe left, yet I can’t kill him this way. It’s painful, but the undead can only truly cease being through direct contact with sunlight, fire, or special blades with the ability to cut through hardened flesh.

Like the one in my hand, yet I won’t end him so soon. Not until they tell me a story.

Because like all creations; vampires are still part human. Or were at some point, and that comes with weaknesses.

No creature is infallible. We all have limitations. And the opal dagger given to me as a special gift and bathed in red twice over will help him cross into the afterlife where Hades, Thanatos, and Aries await.

Their pain will bring me joy.

My sister made sure of that with her thoughtful present. After walking out of Anaya’s room, her small body burritoed within a soft blanket, I met her at the foot of the stairs. Gabriella was waiting for me, a large smile on her face, but there was no amusement coming through our sibling connection.

If anything, her aura vibrated with barely contained rage while Gabby’s red eyes shifted to a glass atop a small table the same style as the one inside the throne room, but this time the color differed and it represented purity in white.“Have fun, brother.”

That’s all she said before walking away, tapping the statement-piece furniture with a manicured finger and then disappearing around the corner, leaving me with a golden chalice and a thick, near-black substance inside of it.

“Answer me.” One by one, his army drops to one knee, hands on their chests while the prisoners’ whimpers grow. Well, two of them. The third tries to fight my hold, but I don’t ease up. If anything, I jam the sharp end of the knife through what’s left of his trachea and leave it there to bob with every unsuccessful swallow.

More blood pours out of him.

Draining him bit by bit of the substance he needs to live, his last meal a complete waste.

“H-how?” the one to my left asks, and I’m kind enough to yank the dagger out of his accomplice and embed it into his cheek with a quick, harsh flick of my wrist. It’s also then that I manifest, my body appearing behind the three, and the fear in their eyes is heady.

“Does that answer your question, asshole?” I growl, every word dripping in my ire. “Now answer your king. Who the fuck sent you to help that dickless waste of space to hurt my mate?”

“She’ll kill us.” This comes from the man to the right; he’s shaking the hardest. Pure, unadulterated fear seeps from his every pore and I inhale deeply, the beast in me rising to the surface.

Every man has one, no matter the species.

The ancient blood in my veins throbs, and I feel the hunger for vengeance grow with each choking breath the man still in my grip lets out. Like Xadiel and Theodore, I protect what’s mine, and that’s where Silla underestimated me. She doesn’t understand the true bond between mates, her connection to Uncle Roberto being one-sided, and even then, I’m not so sure he wasn’t glamoured like Amelia.

Because while they may be mates, there’s no true bond. And if there ever was one, it’s died a slow and painful death.

No true bonded pair would allow the other to be hurt, much less do the hurting.

“She’s not the one you should be afraid of.”

“Chiara and Silla are?—”

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