Under the vampire Lord's protection-Chapter 532: Rotting

Lauden circled around the dangling figure of Silas, relishing the view of the immobilized carcass that once stood as the greatest, most valiant warrior of a century-long war.

He deserved just that, didn’t he? He deserved that and then some...

To his ears traveled the knocking of feet against the rough stone that served as ground. The sound climbed in strength until it stopped all together in front of the metal door separating him from the rest of the world.

"Awake, are we, Vampire?" a gruff voice shot through the small window allowing some light in and out of the cell.

Lauden merely stared back at the guard until the loud locks clicked open, followed by the wincing of heavy and worn metal as the cell gate opened.

"Get out quick or I will just lock it again," the same man as before grunted again.

The vampire took his sweet time, not once breaking eye contact with the guard as though challenging him to say another thing.

There lived something in his darkened gaze... Something that caused both exhilaration and irritation at Lauden’s core.

It was no surprise the human guards weren’t delighted, knowing the only thing that stopped them from riddling his body with silver pikes was the prince’s protection itself.

Not the shadow of a doubt resided in Lauden that those men he just walked past dreamed of nothing but to wipe him off the face of that realm.

By the dungeon door, they stopped all their doings to glare back at him, probably hoping their eyes would suffice to dagger him.

Once out of the underground, his nose tickled the air for a hint of a certain raven-haired girl. Sure enough, as promised by the prince, her odor clung and glided along the hallways.

A spark erupted at his core, sending tingles throughout his streams straight to the brain. It only lasted for a split second, but it brought the equivalent feeling of tasting something truly out of their world... Something beyond sublime.

So, she did come for them. She threw herself right into a pit of raging fire just for them. In the second that followed, that rush that had overcome him sank down his guts...

Still, the wench only got what was coming to her.

His feet led him straight to her. The closer he walked, the stronger the scent of blood emanating from her grew.

Exquisite in its nature, his fangs pushed through just at the thought of a lick. His tongue already sent imaginary taste figments to his brain, demanding that he satisfies its needs and curiosity.

Behind a small door the perfume guided him. The room it shielded was just as tiny as the wood blocking it.

Almost a square of space that would barely fit as a storage unit for brooms and yet a woman lay on the harsh, cold, ground, all curled up around her own nude body.

Arabella was shivering but fast asleep, her breathing labored, but seeing the cuts and bruises on her, it was no surprise.

The vampire crouched down only to still tower over her helpless figure. From time to time, her eyelids would squeeze harder against each other before releasing the pressure seconds after. The sweat amalgamated with the dry blood coating her skin along with the rest told him whatever it was she witnessed in the land of the dreaming; it had to be nothing good.

Even in slumber she wasn’t escaping the nightmare... Good.

By then, his fangs were fully out as his hand extended towards her once perfectly kept hair. It was hard to believe that only two nights prior, that same woman looked nothing less than a queen.

"If you wish to have a taste, you must first inquire permission from her owner," a raspy voice came a good while after the footsteps that had been drawing nearer for a number of seconds up until then.

Lauden stood up and turned around at the same speed he did before with the guards. Looked the older woman up and down before declaring, "Something rots within you,"

Her narrowed eyes widened for a second then recovered their everlasting vexed hag design. She was quite tall for an old woman, not built like a man per se, but not so feminine either. Had it not been for the hair bun on her head and the long skirt draping her legs, an individual with lesser senses than a vampire might have confused her with a man.

Her eyes went up and down his figure and after a deep breath that null doubt helped swallow her rage, she spoke again, "His highness doesn’t want you wandering around. You are not exactly a guest of honor. He wishes to see you and I am sure you can find him well enough on your own,"

With that, the hag stepped aside, her eyes flickering straight down at Arabella’s unconscious figure.

There was no way around it, she wasn’t willing to leave him another second with the young woman unsupervised.

The vampire wasn’t in the mood for a back and forth with an old rotting bag and so he walked away as she seemed to expect.

To say she smelled like rotting was an understatement. It was as though part of her had died for ages but clung to the living piece in that body.

Never the matter, Lauden did not dally and quickly found the prince inside what appeared like a meeting hall.

The look on him alone announced nothing good was on the horizon.

"The acrid smell coming off you is masking all of your charm," the vampire smirked.

Seated in an oversized chair, surrounded by an equal number of empty, just as needlessly big seats from each side, Cedric shot him a glare that fazed no part of Lauden.

"Spare me the sarcasm," that was his only response.

"Why the long face then?" the vampire made his way to the center of the half circle formed by the chairs.

"My father is awake,"