My Vampire Prince..-Chapter 121: Little fairy.

"Prince Severin? How...how are you—"

"Quiet."

Elyria snapped her lips shut. Severin’s hand on her waist slowly unravelled itself, dropping to his side.

His cold and I readable eyes narrowed on her person, the kind of stare that could slice a thousand bones. Elyria froze, her spine snapping straight as his gaze left her eyes and slowly dropped to her chest.

Her hand flew there instantly, clutching the edges of her coat together as if she could shield herself from his intrusive scrutiny.

He ignored her attempt entirely and his eyes kept moving down.

"Hey. You should not look at a woman like that. Especially since you’re a prince," she snapped.

Severin lifted his gaze again, meeting hers with the same frozen, unblinking intensity.

Elyria bit down on her lip again, looking down immediately his eyes met hers.

Geez! So intimidating.

She was usually the ones making people scared and frightened in this kind of situation.

His expression did not shift neither did it soften. It did not even acknowledge her words. He was a wall of emotionless steel, a man carved from ice and indifference.

And then, without warning, he reached out to her chest and grabbed her cloak.

The cloak tore open with a violent rip.

A sharp gasp escaped her as the cold air rushed against her exposed skin. Beneath the cloak, she wore a tight pink baby tee that clung embarrassingly to her curves and a pair of black jeans that felt too snug under his piercing stare.

Elyria was aware by how curvy she was. Hell, it was her number one source of attraction right after her long, velvety hair.

Now that the cloak was off, Severin stillrefused to move his eyes from from her chest.

"You pervert!" Elyria exploded, yanking the shoulders of her tee close again as she stumbled away.

Severin rose from his half crouch. He watched her back away with guarded, bleak eyes, as if she were a nothing more than a rat rather than a person.

"You are a dragon." his voice came out calm and low.

Elyria’s eyes widened for the briefest moment. Then she muttered under her breath and relaxed her shoulders.

Of course he knew. This was Severin, the most enigmatic prince of Zerathane. In fact, it’d be weird if he didn’t.

He was a mysterious man who found truths hidden from even the gods themselves.

"Of course you know that," she sighed. "And what? You are a..."

Severin slipped his hands into his pockets as he sauntered towards her. His towering figure blocked the dim light from the window.

"You would rather not know," he said.

"Try me. I am quite the devil."

"That is obvious, given the fact that male prostitutes are after you."

Elyria’s jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"

He tilted an eyebrow without remorse.

Elyria threw her hands in the air. There was no point arguing with this stuck-up prince.

"Well, this hasn’t been fun, but I actually have somewhere to be unlike you. Your highness." she said mockingly.

Elyria turned the other way and continued toward the window.

"I am guessing Zephyr sent you. Right?" his voice echoed behind her just as she was about to jump out.

Elyria stopped. Her fingers curled into her palms on the window sill. How did he know that?

"You are a dragon just like him," he continued with the same nonchalant tone. "It is not difficult to piece together, little fairy."

She bit her lower lip and turned with a slow swivel. "I could really hurt you if you call me little fairy again."

"You flew through the window."

"Yes, but that was because—"

"And you have wings."

Elyria exhaled slowly. Her patience was dangling by a thread. She hummed to herself, turned away, and resumed her walk. Humming was something she’d do whenever she really wanted to calm herself down.

Elyria turned back to the window, she leapt through and landed on the wilted, greenish grass surrounding the abandoned house.

Anything was better than staying near that psychopath.

She reached into her pocket. "Now. Where should I—"

Elyria halted the second her hand fell on her side. The coat!

That psychopath had stolen her coat earlier.

"Annoying creep!" she hissed. Kicking off the ground, she leapt back toward the window and slipped inside.

"You are back," Severin said, his voice spreading across the room like a shadow.

Elyria turned sharply. He was seated on the bed, with one elbow propped lazily on his knee, watching her with a stillness that annoyed her more than it intimidated her.

She ignored him. Snatching her coat from the dusty-looking, carpeted floor, she flipped it inside out, shaking it violently.

Nothing.

She searched through every inner fold, every corner, every pocket. Her breathing grew louder and her eyebrow twitched.

Calm down. This man isn’t worth it.

She looked over at the man on the bed who looked like he was silently enjoying her crashing out.

Frustration rose within her like a kettle about to boil over.

Finally, she tossed the cloak aside and glared at him with enough heat to burn a hole through the wall.

Severin tilted his head slightly. "Where. Is. My. Compass."

He lifted the object in front of him, dangling it by its chain. "You mean this?"

Elyria stomped toward him, her anger radiating like fire. She stopped just inches from him, her expression stone cold.

"Give it."

"What intelligent creature uses a compass to find a house?"

"Apparently me. Now give it or things will get messy."

"You cannot find a house with a compass."

"That is not up to you. Give. It. Back."

Elyria lunged forward with both hands and grabbed the compass. Severin’s fingers tightened around it at the same time and neither moved. His grip was stronger, unyielding. He did not even flinch.

"You stubborn stone," she hissed.

But Severin’s expression did not change.

Elyria released a loud frustrated cry and suddenly leapt onto him, pushing him back as she landed on his lap, straddling him. The mattress bounced beneath them. That was weird. Whar was such an expensive bed doing in a house like this? She looked around her; the bed was the only valuable thing in the entire room. Insanely at that.

Her eyes slowly returned back to Severin’s face. What was this man?

They stared at each other, breaths mingling. Elyria’s long hair fell across her face, the strands brushing his jaw. Her overly exposed cleavages stole some of her long luscious hair, making her look like the goddess of seduction.

Her hands pressed against his chest as she fought to yank the compass free.

With a sharp twist, she jerked the object out of his hand. Elyria exhaled triumphantly and began to rise when Severin stopped her.

A single large hand pressed against her lower back, applying gentle, firm pressure that pinned her in place.

Elyria froze as his hand began to move.

Slow strokes skimmed down her hips, her sides, her waist, searching....

inspecting. As if expecting to find something foreign or hidden on her body.

Her breath caught as her top shifted. Her chest pressed closer to him, her cleavage hovering just inches from his shoulder.

Elyria jerked back violently and staggered away from him.

"Sorry, but fast paced men disgust me, no matter how handsome they are."

Severin just sat there unmoving. His hand that gripped her hung in the air before he slowly placed them down. His face remained a blank slate, unshakably calm.

"You managed to steal a good look at me. Congratulations freak," she said dryly.

She adjusted her shirt, walked to the window, and jumped out again with a swift leap. She still couldn’t use her wings in the human world according to the rules.

The moment she disappeared from sight, Severin finally moved.

He lifted his hand that had touched her, bringing his palm upward.

A single glowing dragon scale rested there. It shimmered faintly with pale golden light, Elyria’s energy still clinging to it.

He studied it silently for a while then he closed his fist.

~~~~~~~ Earlier ~~~~~~~

The fire roared like a beast awakening from its disturbed hibernation. The flames climbed higher and higher as each second passed. Thick smoke curled into the sky, shrouding everywhere in its fog. The car wasburning violently, reduced to twisted metal and flickering embers.

Eden and Edna had moved to the boot of the car, trying to force it open but nothing worked. They kept on screaming, crying for help still... nothing. The only person who could was heating up unconsciously on the ground.

Elena lay on the ground nearby, unmoving.

Her eyes stared at the flames but could not comprehend them. Her body twitched with effort, her mind fought to command her body yet she was trapped somewhere between consciousness and oblivion. Heat radiated off her skin in an unnatural wave.

She could not move or speak.

She could only burn from the inside out.

The fire eventually drew the attention of the palace workers. They rushed toward the scene with buckets, drums, whatever could hold water, to put the fire out.

As Damien stood by the window to get the key from the coffee table, he saw the smoke.

Damien dashed out of the house with unnatural speed.

"Elena!" his voice roared as he dashed to her. "Darling, what happened? Why are you..."

He touched her arm and his breath hitched sharply before he snatched his hand back.

Her skin was scorching hot...burning even.

He couldn’t smell the faint scent of burnt flesh still her heat had seared into him.

Damien did not hesitate and he pushed through the scalding heat and gathered her limp body into his arms. Her hair was damp with sweat, her chest rose and fell in weak, shallow breaths.

He turned to Luan, who was running toward him with a medical kit with a disturbed, frightened look on her face.

"Take the children to school today," Damien commanded.

Luan bowed instantly, sensing the urgency in his voice. "Yes, your highness."

Damien strode forward. His steps grew, his pace became inhuman.

He stood behind a tall tree and vanished the next second.

Kesath~

A faint humming filled the room as Elder Medderath sat in a meditative posture, her palm extended toward Elena’s lifeless body on the table. Pale streams of purple energy spiraled around her arm and flowed into Elena.

Kiriat had informed Damien earlier that the elder was holding down an unstable force raging within Elena’s body.

Damien sat at opposite Medderath, his jaw clenched, his fists curled tightly. Lio, Elyria and a few other dragons remained in the background, silently watching their savior.

Minutes passed and they felt like hours dragged through centuries.

Then suddenly, Elder Medderath gasped sharply. Her eyes flew open.

She tore her hand away from Elena’s body as if burned, got up and staggered backward, stumbling until her back hit the wall.

Everyone stiffened as the elder’s eyes widened larger than teapots.

Damien rushed toward her.

"What is it?" His voice was deep and commanding, but laced with a fear he rarely showed. "Were you able to see what is wrong with her?"

Medderath did not respond immediately. Her eyes trembled as her breathing became unstable. She looked at Elena with something no one had ever seen on her face.

Fear.

Pure, unfiltered fear.

Damien’s voice hardened.

"Elder, speak." he growled again, trying so hard to maintain his respect to her.

"Your wife..." Medderath started before stopping abrubtly.

"My wife what?! What is wrong with her?!" Damien finally yelled out.

"Your wife... is...is a... a..."