A Bastard's Allure-Chapter 128: Breaking Free
"What’s with the long face?" El’s mother asked when she saw her take a step back, her eyes never leaving the mark on her neck. Her eyes shifted towards Andrian and he had the same mark too, and so did her father.
"Who are you?" She asked, confusion reigning her once peaceful heart. Her parents were not demons the last time she checked, and definitely not vampire bites because those healed.
"What do you mean?" Her mother asked, the smile still on her face. Rian and her father halted in their actions to look at her.
"We are your family," she said.
Elena shook her head in denial biting hard on her lower lip. "My family is dead!" She blurted out, the reality weighing her down. Yet, here they were, standing right in front of her and breathing.
"It must be the nightmares again," Rian suggested.
"That fall must have dealt your mind some damage," her mother added.
"What fall?" Elena asked, her gaze shifting between the three in confusion.
"You don’t remember?" Her father, who was particularly silent, enquired.
"Remember what?"
"Oh, dear," her mother whispered, crossing the distance between them. She held Elena by her hands and sat her down. "You fell from a horse."
Elena spotted the mark again, now breaking free from the reverie. She couldn’t point it out but she fell some kind of power holding her back.
Whisking her hands away from her so called mother, she stood again, now pointing at the mark on her neck.
"How did you get that?" She asked. Her finger moved from her to Andrian’s neck and settled on her father’s.
The trio exchanged glances as if speaking in some cipher.
"It’s nothing of importance," her mother tried to take her hands again but Elena took another step back.
"You are not my family," she resolved. And as if clarity had dawned on her, "You are demons in the guise of my late parents and brother."
The woman pretending to be her mother stood, a smirk now planted on her face. She dropped her guise to reveal a middle aged woman, the mark now persistent on her neck.
"Tough one, aren’t you?" She commented.
Everything else happened so fast. Elena saw everything slowly dissolve into nothingness, blurring in front of her eyes. Suddenly, she was falling. But she never hit the ground. Then darkness followed.
She fluttered her eyes open, the bright light dimming her sight. Blocking the light with the back of her hand, she pushed herself to a sitting position. The surroundings looked familiar. She was in the library, just behind the drawing room. Her father used it as his study when he was still alive but it was locked since his passing. Whoever put her here didn’t want her to be found easily.
She pushed herself up, her stomach rumbling aloud. She swallowed hard and only then did she realize how thirsty she was. How long had she been like this?
And as if that was not enough, the burning sensation of the mark lit on her flesh, as if burning within her neck. She could feel her heart race and her blood flow close to her skin. But his scent was what caught her senses.
The whiff of it called on to her like a siren, and before she knew it, she was moving towards its direction. The door that was tightly locked felt like an obstacle to her cause. She slammed it with her first bringing it down. The dust rose from the impact, her now red eyes focused on nothing but going forward.
Her long hair covered the better part of her face. The dress she previously wore, now covered in dirt, did little to give her the princess look she always had. Anyone she’d meet on the hallway would mistake her for a ghost!
But that didn’t deter her, nor had it crossed her mind for a second. His scent grew stronger with every step she took, the trail leading her towards the dungeons.
This part of the palace had no guards. From a dark corner, Darion materialized, sword in his hand. He had brought Gabriel here after the humans started looking for him all over. It was the safest place he could find. But now there was a mad woman roaming around.
"And where do you think you’re going?" He asked, stepping into the light.
But Elena didn’t not stop. In fact, his words fell on deaf ears, carrier by the wind past her.
Darion took a step forward. "I’m talking to you," he said. That didn’t seem to stop her. He held his sword out until her neck came in contact with the tip, forcing her into a halt.
Elena lifted her eyes through her messy hair. Her red ones met with Darion’s but he seemed in awe.
"Elena?!" He whispered, lowering his sword. Before the blade could leave Elena’s skin, she knocked it out of his hand and threw him, as if weightless. Darion’s back crashed with the solid wall, and when he landed on the floor with his chest, a few ribs had already been broken. He coughed out some blood but Elena kept on going, unbothered by his condition.
In a dark cellar in the corner, Gabriel was trying to suppress his fangs and thirst for blood only for his desire to grow stronger with each passing second. And then came her scent, just a whiff of it.
The deep seated monster within him started growling low, and as her scent grew stronger, it threatened to break out of his own flesh. The bars keeping him away from her were hard and moptight.
His fists were now dripping in blood as he gave the steel a blow. It was slightly bent but not broken yet.
With her scent growing stronger, so did his urge to renew the mating mark, and his strength. He landed a final flow on the steel to bend it completely. The space was enough for him to step out.
From across the other end of the cellar pavement, he saw her. Her eyes locked with his, an itch in his gums making his fangs grow an inch longer.
