Page 39 of Cosmic Power

The dark mage swallowed nervously. “When Ryker was nine, he was found by a group of vampires who wanted to use his abilities for their own good. He was powerful, but undisciplined. He didn’t know how to use his magic properly. He was used and sold to different vampire masters, conditioned to obey them through fear, intimidation and pain. When he rebelled, he was punished. When he tried to run, they drank from him until he was on the edge of death. He was raped, beaten and starved for years. Then Ophelia bought him.”

Ophelia’s struggles increased and Luther clamped his other hand on her shoulder, holding her still.

The young mage recoiled. He was terrified of Ophelia. Absolutely petrified. His body trembled, his teeth clattered. His magic flared uncontrollably around him, lashing out like a bullwhip.

Thaddeus whispered soothing words, trying to calm him down.

Luther ran his eyes over the child. He was definitely powerful, almost as much as Thaddeus. Perhaps even more so. There was power in his lineage, running deeply through the blood in his veins. Luther wondered where he came from, who his parents were.

Once the magic dissipated, Thaddeus continued, his face serious. “Ophelia kept him locked away for years, using his fear of vampires as a way to keep him in line, to maintain control over him. She forced him to experiment with his magic, to focus on increasing his power, regardless of the effect it would have on him and the space around him. He almost died numerous times because she pushed him too far.”

Luther dug his claws deeper into Ophelia’s flesh as his anger skyrocketed.

Luther was an evil motherfucker. He had no problems torturing and killing others. In fact, he loved it. There wasn’t anything quite like holding the power of someone else’s life in your hands. To feel their heart stop beating and their life drain away as they took their last breath.

But Luther drew the line at children. And hearing his sire had used and abused a child angered him beyond comprehension.

Ophelia whimpered as Luther brought her to her knees in front of him. Her blood seeped into her clothes as he dug his claws in, deeper and deeper.

“One day, she brought another vampire into the mix. She bled him dry, drained him entirely of his blood and forced Ryker to use his magic to enchant it.”

Luther’s eyes flared red with anger when he realised what Thaddeus was saying. “He’s responsible for Night Flare?”

“No! Haven’t you been listening? Ophelia is. She forced him to do it, forced him to do so many awful things that it makes even me cringe. Please, Luther. Try and understand. It wasn’t his fault. He’s been tormented by vampires his whole life. He never had a choice in any of this. If he didn’t do what was asked of him, he was punished.”

Luther studied the young mage in more detail, focusing intently on the scars that layered his skin and the pain behind those dark brown eyes. His fear was palpable; it drenched his scent so much that Luther could hardly detect anything else.

Ophelia squirmed at his feet and Luther’s eyes flickered down to the back of her head. If what Thaddeus said was true, it meant he had been betrayed…again.

He sighed. Honestly, he couldn’t even be surprised about it. He was used to being betrayed. It was almost expected of those around him now.

Luther tore his claws painfully from Ophelia’s shoulders, taking out a good chunk of her skin. She screamed, somehow managing to do so without opening her mouth. He clasped her head in his bloody hands and snapped her neck. He needed to have a proper conversation with Thaddeus and Ryker without having to keep an eye on her and making sure she didn’t try to run again.

Ryker flinched at the crack that ran through the room.

Ophelia went lax in his hands and he dropped her to the ground without a care. He stepped over her body and walked towards the young mage. Thaddeus stood protectively in front of him, shielding him with his body.

“Step aside,” Luther commanded.

“What are you going to do?” the dark mage asked, his magic flaring around him in warning. He was prepared to protect the child if need be.

“Move, Thaddeus. I will not ask again.”

He hesitated, pursing his lips, before slowly moving out of the way. Ryker’s fear increased tenfold. He quivered and his shoulders hunched over, as if he was trying to make himself smaller.

It was definitely surprising behaviour for one as powerful as him. He had enough magic to put up a serious fight—even if he wasn’t trained.

“Do you know the vampires who hurt you?” Luther asked, trying to lighten his voice so he didn’t frighten the child.

He still flinched away slightly, but he answered Luther’s question. “Th-there were too many to count, let alone name.”

Anger exploded inside Luther. He couldn’t stop his eyes from blazing red, or a deep, guttural growl from leaving his mouth.

Ryker whimpered and dropped to his knees, placing his hands and forehead flat to the ground. Luther stepped back in shock, the anger fading quickly. His eyes flickered to Thaddeus, who stared down at the young mage with sadness.

Thaddeus gripped Ryker’s arm softly and slowly started pulling him to his feet. “It’s okay, he’s not mad at you. You’re safe now,” he whispered soothingly.

At Luther’s questioning gaze, Thaddeus said, “they used to make him drop to his knees and beg for their forgiveness whenever he angered them. We’re still trying to work through the conditioning.”

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