The Curse Of A Stranger's Gift 22 Zayne

"The ritual of transfusion is an ancient rite that must be taken with precautions. If mistakenly done, the vampire's soul would be extracted from its body."

"What did you do in this ritual?" He tapped the table, distracting himself with its beat.

"Simple. You just have to sacrifice yourself while the moon is full."

He straightened. "You mean that's it?"

She wiggled her forefinger. "Not quite. You need to be capable of enduring pain. It can be over an hour, a day, or even a year. It depends on how you'll be able to win it over."

"How about you? How long have you endure it?"

"Me?" She sipped her cup of tea. "Ten miserable years."

His brows furrowed. "You mean to say, you felt nothing but pain for a decade?"

"That is correct." She linked her arms to her husband who sat beside her after serving Vladimir a cup of blood. "George took care of me while I writhe in pain, though. He was my strength to be precise. If it wasn't for him, I would've died the moment the unspeakable pain crawled inside me."

George smiled before giving her a peck on the cheek. "Don't be so humble. It was your determination that saved you." His voice was throaty and deep for such a small man.

"Ahw!" She pinched his cheeks affectionately. By just looking at them, he could feel the love they have to one another. It made him feel guilty for thinking mischievous things about Zayne. He couldn't blame himself, though. It was her gift that thwarts his walls, after all.

"You don't have to be guilty," Zayne said suddenly. It was then that he realizes their eyes lingering upon him.

"Can you read minds, too?" he asked, affronted by the attention they're giving.

"I don't have to. Your face tells me exactly what I need to know." She took another sip of her tea. "It's not your fault for thinking such ways. My gift would put your rationality in the corner as your malicious thoughts take over. It's part of the defense. Once your mind is filled with l.u.s.t, the only thing you'll be thinking is to satisfy what you feel. Thus, you can't hurt me any further."

"What if you're raped?"

"Trust me. I'm more than capable of protecting myself."

George stood. "I'll leave you two for a while." Without waiting for any response, he walked away.

A deafening silence filled their ears as they were lost for words. The ritual was all Vladimir could think of while Zayne was weighing down whether or not it was right to tell him about such a dangerous ritual.

"Is that everything you want to know? Well then, it's time for us to have a good night's rest." She patted the dirt away from her uniform. Even the maid's attires looked to her as a ball gown.

Vladimir closed his eyes for a moment. He didn't want to ask this but he's curious. Aside from the fact that he desired to attain mortality, he also wants to know if his father was being truthful. With a deep breath, he murmured, "Have you and my father—uhm—had relations.h.i.+ps?"

Zayne laughed. "Xavier? Of course. He's such a desperate man. Whenever he set his eyes on the goal, he would never stop unless he achieves what he desires." Then she suddenly became serious. "He's kinda sweet, though. He'll never say I love you, but you'll feel his affection with the way he'll treat you. He always gives me a bunch of roses or else offers tasteful drops of blood. I appreciate all of those things. Especially when he tried lulling me. His voice. It's so beautiful. Deep, soft, and raspy."

His nose wrinkled. "Are you sure, it's my father we're talking about? Last time I check, he's not capable of showing love."

A sad smile curved Zayne's pale lips. "I'm afraid, he changed that much. I met him recently in New York and he sounded like a stranger."

"Mind telling me what happened? Why did you part ways?"

"It's regretfully my mistake. I was so jealous of the time he's giving to his career. You see, ever since he started Politics, his time for me go short. He was so intent to be the king that I was left on the backside. All the things he used to do for me was shut in the back of his mind. I was heartbroken. His attention has always been for me alone and because of the compet.i.tion with his goal, I decided to leave him. I doubted he would follow me, anyway. He's so immersed in his paperwork that he's got no time finding a woman who betrayed him."

"And he let you go?" Vladimir scratched his head; it felt as if he missed something. His father was not the type to give up something he'd worked hard for.

"That's what I thought, but he found me in Germany. He asked for me to go back to his arms with the promise that he'll stop chasing his dreams of being a king just to have me back, but he was too late. When he was gone, I was comforted by George. He'd given the attention I seek for and the love I've been longing since Xavier choose politics. So, I told him the truth. I thought he would go berserk. However, he just left without saying anything." She shook her head and closed her eyes. "I should have known. He did not accept my decision. He loathed me for choosing a mortal. Without me knowing, he's eyeing me in the pits of darkness. Waiting for the time to strike. It was thirty years after I deserted him did he show himself. He seemed detach and ruthless."

"What did he do?" Vladimir's interest was piqued. The fact that his father had once loved someone other than himself was news to him.

"He questioned my decisions, telling me that I was wrong for abandoning my immortality... and for choosing a mortal over him. At first, I reasoned out and he was listening to it, but he'd gone mad when he saw George. He almost killed him. Fortunately, he still adores me. Maybe not that deep, but enough for him to stop when I started crying. He let him live with one condition."

"That you'll serve him," Vladimir continued.

A loud clap echoed behind them. s.h.i.+vers ran down their spines when they saw the king leaning on the doorway. His eyes dimmed to a darker shade of red as he glared at them. His stares. It was full of madness that they could feel it pierced through their bones.

"What a good story, Zayne! I didn't know you're a story-teller." His voice was so deep but at the same time, soft. It blended in the air, caressing their souls.

"I—I just told him the truth." Zayne balled her small fist; it was shaking.

The king narrowed his sharp eyes. "No worries. I understand that our tongue sometimes slip." He gritted his teeth. Vladimir couldn't urge himself to react; he's frozen to death. This was the first time he'd seen his father this angry.

"Vladimir," he murmured, "I think it's enough bed stories to make yourself, right? Go to your room now!" He wasn't shouting but Vladimir wished he would. It might give him relief, but that wasn't the case. It's like his father becomes a silent bomb, waiting for the perfect timing to explode. He closed his eyes and used his speed to get away from here as far as possible. However, as fast as he was willing his self, the king was still able to grope his wrist. He was so strong that Vladimir winced as he heard his bone cracks.

"You've been warned," he whispered with his shaking lips. "One more of these s.h.i.+ts and I'll throw you to the pits of h.e.l.l." He slashed his hands in the air, and a red string of light beamed in the s.p.a.ce, cutting Vladimir's hands. His eyes widened before his shouts filled the night. Tears trailed pa.s.sed his cheeks as he writhes to the ground. Pain was crawling in his every nerve as though all his body was sliced. He wished for the pain to end, but it lingered even after his brown regrow.

The king looked down at him before stomping at his stomach. Vladimir groaned and coughed with blood as another series of pain cradled his consciousness. "The next time you go against my order, be prepared to face death." He kicked his waist twice, and he finally decided to walk away when he saw the mortal sulking in the corner; giving him an evil grin. George was glaring at him as he tortures his child. Such a ruthless father.

When he was out of earshot, the couple hurriedly carried Vladimir to his room. His wounds quickly healed even before Zayne could try treating it. All they could do was to pray for him to wake up soon. They left his quarters with sympathy weighing in their hearts.