A Bastard's Allure-Chapter 63: Crowned In The Hour Of The Wolf

Elena leaned on Gabriel’s back as they rode back to the capital. The memories they had made under the purple tree lit her face with a smile whenever she reminisced over them. Her line of thought was however cut short when she heard the tolling of bells from a distance.

"What was that?" She asked. Gabriel halted on a cliff where he had a bird’s eye view of the capital. The tolling of the bell signaled only two things: a call for convening in the temple of gods and the death of a loyalty. It was not a temple day. Could it be what he was thinking? His grip on the reins tightened, a knot tightened in his stomach.

"Father’s dead," he announced with no hint of emotion in his voice.

Elena was however dumbstruck, a thousand questions racing through her mind. She had seen the king earlier in the day and he looked all fine. And from what she read, vampires lived longer than humans, especially the stronger ones.

"How do you know it’s him?" She asked, her eyes searching the capital below.

"Vampires have a strong connection to those they’re closely related with. I can’t feel him anymore." Was that disgust in his voice?

"What now?" Was he going to become the crown prince as promised, or a king now that his father was dead?

"He was killed," Gabriel said. "Whoever killed him must also want me dead. They’ve usurped the throne!" The words felt heavy coming from him.

"We shouldn’t go there," Elena added.

"I’m going to take back what is rightfully mine," Gabriel said, getting a better grip on the reins. His eyes narrowed at the capital, longingly settling on the castle. The tolling of the bells turned to music in his ears. The darkness he’d tried to confine within him was now clouding his judgement. He’d kill all of them if that was what it took to have the crown!

Elena gasped when the horse started racing down the steep slope. She held Gabriel’s shirt tightly as the hair blew coldly on her. The dress she wore did little to keep off the cold. But what she was worried about was what Gabriel had in mind. If the crown was already usurped, that meant he was a threat to the royal family now. He’d been killed at first spot, probably arrows rained on them even before they arrived at the gates. She had to stop him!

"Gabriel?" She called, tugging his shirt tighter when they hit the parallel ground. He was however too focused to hear. "Stop!" She yelled in his ears.

"What?" Gabriel asked, already racing towards the gates. Why would she want him to stop?

"I said stop! They’ll kill us if you don’t!" And as if to affirm her words, an arrow landed not too far away from where they were. Scared, the horse took to the air with his front legs and sent his riders sprawled on the ground. He run to the other direction but an arrow caught him by his neck, dropping him to the ground, dead.

Gabriel’s eyes blazed in anger. He bared his fangs in frustration, his eyes narrowed at the archers on the gates. He could leap and split them from brains to balls. He pressed his hands on the ground to lift himself up when he heard a soft grunt from his side, accompanied with that scent! Her blood!

The dark in his eyes gradually dissipated, the figure of Elena now coming into view. His eyes fell on her injured arm, worry etching his face. He crawled to her side, helping her up.

"Are you okay?" He asked, caressing her cheeks in worry. All this was his fault! What was he even thinking? He looked down in guilt.

"Gabriel?" She called. He lifted his eyes to look at her sapphire ones. They reminded him of the day they met. She was so scared that day, just a normal human princess, timid as a rabbit.

"We’ll both die if we get in the capital," she tried instilling sense into him. "It’s all gone! Why die for something you’ll never recover?"

"Let us go, somewhere our titles and obligations don’t matter, away from all this web of royalty. Somewhere only me and you are the ones that matter."

She held his cheeks, searching for a hint of acknowledgement in his golden orbs. Gabriel’s eyes shifted towards the capital. As much as he hated this place, it was his home nevertheless. He had grown up here, hated and despised by those whom he considered family. And just when he thought everything would be fine, it all crumbled into dust.

He shifted his eyes back to her. She was the sole reason he wanted it in the first place. What then was the point if she didn’t want it too? Maybe this was their chance of redemption. Maybe this was his destiny. The crown was never made for bastards anyways.

"Let’s get out of here." He grabbed her by the hand and run far away from the capital, both of them breathless.

_____ _____ _____ _____

Brandon was dead asleep when the door to his chambers burst open. Jessica walked in, her eyes settling on his sleepy ones. They were half closed.

"Mother?" He called, his voice pitched into a low grunt.

Jessica walked in and stopped close to the headboard. "Do you hear that?" She asked.

Brandon forced his ears open. "A bell," he said, holding the pillow tighter. Jessica walked over and snatched the blanket away from her. He grunted low in frustration before he forced his eyes open.

"It’s late Mother. Why don’t we talk tomorrow?" He complained.

"Your father is dead!" She announced, her voice deadpanned. Brandon’s brows creased like one who heard a lore for the first time. And how could he believe it? His father was the strongest vampire he’d ever known! How then...

"Is this a joke?" He asked, forcing himself into a sitting position. The bells tolled louder in the night, and it dawned on him! "What happened?"

"Poisoned," Jessica replied.

"But... Who would do this? Father was the best king Eldoria had for the last decade."

He found her eyes, the answer clear in them. "No! Gabriel can’t do this."

"He eloped from the capital once he realized what he’d done, together with his human wife," she explained, leaning on the wall. "Get prepared, your coronation is happening tonight!" Jessica stormed out of the room, giving Brandon no room for discussion.

_____ _____ _____ _____

The double doors swung open in the hour of the Wolf. Brandon Sinclair, clad in black, appeared on the stairs. His eyes fell on the dimly lit throne hall. Everything had been planned so fast! He spotted his mother waiting close to the throne, the crown in her hand.

Taking short and measured steps, he marched down, his head held high. His boots clicked on the marble floor, all the eyes trained on him. He however failed to notice a number of court officials missing.

The priest, a bald man in his late fifties, stood on the first stair that led to the throne. His collar tightened around his neck one had to fear he might get choked.

Brandon knelt before the priest. With a smile, the priest began. "It is indeed a grim day for the realm. Today, we lost our king, Thoron the peaceful to poison. Blood’s bane they call it. It kills clean and fast."

The priest let his eyes survey across the room. "But with this news, we welcome change. We are gathered here to witness the ascension of Brandon Sinclair, First of his name, as the king of Eldoria and all it’s lands, titles and forts."

He dipped his fingers into a vessel that held something close to oil. Applying it on Brandon’s forehead, he said, "Rise Your Highness and receive your crown." Stepping aside, Brandon saw his mother descend the remaining stairs. She halted right in front of him.

He bent low and felt the circular metal settle softly on his head. His heart was racing for some unknown reasons.

"Rise, Your Majesty," Queen Jessica announced. Brandon lifted his eyes to meet with hers before she gave him a soft nod. Supporting himself with his hand, he stood up, his eyes set on the throne. It was there, waiting for him to occupy it. Or maybe it was just a dream he needed to wake up from.

He took the first step, the distance seeming too much. With every step he took, the more real it appeared. He was not ready for this, never! Why did it feel so wrong?

His hands rested on the arms of the throne before he softly sat. Jessica smiled in victory, releasing a silent sigh. She knew the price of this better than anyone else.

"All hail King Brandon Sinclair, First of his name," the herald announced. Jessica was the first person to kneel, followed by the court officials.

"My king," she said, looking up to meet with Brandon’s eyes.