Daemon
“My king, when you wake, your fledgling will be there,” Seeyr told him, placing a slender hand against her chest.
Vampire King Daemon stood before the pale stone sarcophagus that would be his resting place for who knew how long. But he did not care. He could not continue on without a fledgling. The pain of seeing the last candidate die in agony as his too powerful blood sapped his life away was the last straw. Though he was amongst his fellow Immortals, he was alone. They had the company of thousands of fledglings of their Bloodlines. He had none. And he was so tired of waiting and watching and never having …
“I do not know if I believe that any longer, Seeyr. You may see the future, but the past … the past has proven to me that none survive the Turning with my blood. The past dictates the future, I think.” Bitterness flooded his mouth like the taste of rotten blood and he shook himself.
Seeyr’s pink lips lifted in a sad smile. “I have seen him.”
“Him?” Daemon’s heart beat harder, but he shoved any excitement down. Not everything Seeyr saw came true. Not even everything he did came to pass. This could just be her hopes for him speaking.
“A young man. So young. But … he will have things to teach even you.” She chuckled. “He will be beautiful.”
“Of course! He will be mine.” But the words were flippant. He could not have cared if his fledgling was a horror to look upon so long as they were his. “Though what you describe sounds rather … ideal.”
“Yes, but that does not mean it is not true.” She tilted pale chin up with pride. “He will be strong and kind and brave, too.”
“Kind?” Daemon’s right eyebrow lifted. “A strange characteristic for a predator.”
“But again, it is true. It will make what you have to do perhaps more difficult.”
He turned towards her, his long black coat swishing around his leather-covered legs. “What I have to do?”
Her silver eyes grew unfocused as he looked ahead, but not at the walls of Nightvallen, but into time itself. Her lips pressed together and her head dropped. “When you wake, everything will be different. Our world … as we know it … will no longer exist. You will have to conquer it all over again.”
Daemon considered this. With a fledgling by his side, would he mind having to claw his way to the top once more? Or would he find it a thrilling test of his mettle?
His crimson eyes hooded as a true smile crossed his lips. “If my fledgling truly exists when I wake once more, it will be a pleasure to take the worlds by storm.”
Daemon
“My king, when you wake, your fledgling will be there,” Seeyr told him, placing a slender hand against her chest.
Vampire King Daemon stood before the pale stone sarcophagus that would be his resting place for who knew how long. But he did not care. He could not continue on without a fledgling. The pain of seeing the last candidate die in agony as his too powerful blood sapped his life away was the last straw. Though he was amongst his fellow Immortals, he was alone. They had the company of thousands of fledglings of their Bloodlines. He had none. And he was so tired of waiting and watching and never having …
“I do not know if I believe that any longer, Seeyr. You may see the future, but the past … the past has proven to me that none survive the Turning with my blood. The past dictates the future, I think.” Bitterness flooded his mouth like the taste of rotten blood and he shook himself.
Seeyr’s pink lips lifted in a sad smile. “I have seen him.”
“Him?” Daemon’s heart beat harder, but he shoved any excitement down. Not everything Seeyr saw came true. Not even everything he did came to pass. This could just be her hopes for him speaking.
“A young man. So young. But … he will have things to teach even you.” She chuckled. “He will be beautiful.”
“Of course! He will be mine.” But the words were flippant. He could not have cared if his fledgling was a horror to look upon so long as they were his. “Though what you describe sounds rather … ideal.”
“Yes, but that does not mean it is not true.” She tilted pale chin up with pride. “He will be strong and kind and brave, too.”
“Kind?” Daemon’s right eyebrow lifted. “A strange characteristic for a predator.”
“But again, it is true. It will make what you have to do perhaps more difficult.”
He turned towards her, his long black coat swishing around his leather-covered legs. “What I have to do?”
Her silver eyes grew unfocused as he looked ahead, but not at the walls of Nightvallen, but into time itself. Her lips pressed together and her head dropped. “When you wake, everything will be different. Our world … as we know it … will no longer exist. You will have to conquer it all over again.”
Daemon considered this. With a fledgling by his side, would he mind having to claw his way to the top once more? Or would he find it a thrilling test of his mettle?
His crimson eyes hooded as a true smile crossed his lips. “If my fledgling truly exists when I wake once more, it will be a pleasure to take the worlds by storm.”