Page 28 of The Exiled Dragon

Looking out the study window, I saw dawn approaching. The broken tree branches, scarce with vegetation, kept most of the light away in this part of the Bergarian. It was better for our near translucent skin and sensitive eyes. My hand traced my neck, feeling the inflicted wound on my throat.

Odessa, like I said, was different. Not once did she cry as I stuck my fangs into her skin. Not once did she struggle, try to get away, or even beg for forgiveness.

I had to have her again after feasting on her the first time. She didn't struggle. The blood flowed effortlessly down my throat like a good bottle of brandy. The slight acidity in her blood gave me my own high that I didn’t want to get rid of. I was drunk, maybe even love drunk, with her savory skin.

It wasn’t just the blood; it was also her voice. Calm, alluring, like the gentle waves of the dark southern seas. Granted, I would have to ask her questions to get her to speak. She did it slowly and calculated, not giving more than needed. I liked that. She didn’t talk to hear herself; she talked to be heard.

Three months of drinking her blood, I knew I couldn’t be without her now. Odessa continued to surprise me as I became rougher with the feedings, becoming effortlessly addicted to her. Seeing her take such pain and not saying a word turned me on. I was a sadist. I loved seeing someone in pain, seeing them scream. She did not and brought a new level of pleasure. She was strong and didn’t complain or cry. Odessa would wince when I turned my fang, and the small twitch in her eye would send me over the edge. I could spill my seed just watching her opposing hand clamp shut.

Odessa put me on a whole new level. I needed her, not just her blood. I needed all of her. This delicate human was the strongest of them all in both body and spirit.

I wanted to keep her forever.

Sure, one could wait for a mate, but I was old. I saw no one catch my eye such as her, so why not?

I meticulously made preparations for three months. The bedroom scene was planned to a perfect T in my mind, taking her virgin body in my own hands, finally piercing her dainty little neck, and leaving my permanent mark on her. The mark would make her infatuated with me. She would please me every night and even during the day if I demanded. We would both have each other; I would become even more obsessed with her. I would have her blood and only feed on her, as she would do the same to me. The perfect act of love and devotion, my future beloved.

“Gods,” I groaned, hitting my fists on the desk. I wanted her to bite me, get back at me for all the times I made her feel the pain in her arms and legs. I wanted her to punish me. Odessa, the sweet, innocent one, biting into my arms. The thought made my toes curl.

Feeling my scar again, I smiled. The sweet little one had it in her like I knew she would. I twirled the bits of my tangled black hair as I sat back down in my chair. It was more painful than it should have been, but it proved that she was strong, as I always knew. Taking that sharpened dogwood stake, slitting my throat like it was nothing, I liked the fire.

Unfortunately, I didn’t like that she ran away, nor the idea of her finding a dogwood stake to use on me. That was something she would not have known. I dealt with that problem swiftly. The little vamp girl didn’t know what was coming.

It took two days to heal. Two days of her running further away.

Throwing my arms out, I swiped my desk of papers, books, and brandy off the desk. The crash alerted the guards, who rushed in. “My Lord?” Two guards looked around the room, looking for the culprit.

“Take me to my beloved’s room,” I growled. Buttoning the buttons on my suit, I marched out of my office and down the hall. After deciding to make her my beloved, I put her in the finest guestroom of the house. Many times, I walked past her room but could never smell her. The thick beach wood doors were to keep arousal from sweeping down the hallway. My fingers often played with the wood panels, wondering what she could be doing inside. Was she combing her hair? Playing with the new dresses in her drawers? What could she possibly be doing in there?

The maid from earlier stepped in front of the door. “My Lord, can I help you?” My head held higher, not wanting to look her in the eye. “I wish to see my beloved’s room.” The guard’s hand went to the handle, but the servant girl stopped.

“Oh, I have washed everything in the room, my Lord. I hope it is to her liking when she returns.” She fluttered her fake lashes towards me. With a nod, the guard opened the door. Stepping inside, slowly, I breathed in to take in her scent. The sweet citrus scent that I craved was not there.

Odessa had stayed in this room for three months. Her scent should be embedded into the carpet, the pillows, the curtains. The entire room should smell of her.

There wasn’t any.

Turning slowly, I smelled the fear emitting from my servant. “This is not her room,” I hissed. My fists went tighter, the tattoos on my fingers stretched impossibly far, making the ink fade. “Where is Odessa’s room? This was specifically for her.” My clawed fingernails lengthened, reaching for the sorry excuse of an attendant.

“My Lord, please!” Fingers entangling the back of her hair, I pushed her face to the floor and into the furred carpet.

“Smell,” I whispered. “Do you smell that?” She whimpered, her hands hitting the wooden floor next to the carpet.

“What. Do. You. Smell?”

“Nothing, my Lord,” she choked.

“Exactly.” I pulled her by her head, slamming her against the wall.

“Then tell me, why was Odessa never in this room!?” I roared. My forehead vein pulsed with rage.

“I can answer that.” The second servant from my office came into the room. “She,” the busty servant pointed to the other servant girl harshly, “did not listen to your orders. She stuck her into a bigger cage and only dressed her when you wanted to feed.”

“Is this true?” I growled out. The guards stood beside me. My breath heaved a second time. I told Odessa that she would have better quarters, that she would have the finest. Now she thinks I’m a liar. I was a lot of things, but a liar I was not. No wonder she ran.

“She was a lowly human!” she tried to reason. “One not so worthy of your high ranking!” Hissing, I pushed my fingers through my thick hair.

“You will regret this.” She cowered. “Where did she stay? Show me.” The servant swayed, falling several times before finally standing, walking through the large doors.

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