RING

DANTE

The double doors of the office opened automatically and I walked in with confidence. There she sat with her nose buried in an ancient book, no doubt researching some new spells or whatever witches do nowadays. Her laptop was perched on her busy desk, opened, and her fingers moved from the book to typing away on the device.

Always has and forever will be a workaholic.

We may be archaic, but supernaturals have embraced the many technologies of man. Truth be told, I had to adjust to the ‘modern’ way of life and had to learn how to use devices like phones, and laptops. When I was a young human, we only used pigeons to disseminate information.

A smirk was prominent on her face so I knew she sensed my presence. But she chose to ignore me. I decided to break the ice because knowing her she’d give me the silent treatment for eternity if she could.

''I knew I'd find you here.''

''What do you want, Dante?''

 ''Why do you think I want something from you?'' I asked, mock surprise gracing my face.

''Because the only reason you come over is because you want something.''

''You know that's not true, Dahlia.''

Her eyes met mine and she gave me a smirk, then she rose up from her leather chair and walked over to me, hands skimming the cotton material of my shirt. '' Prove it.''

Dahlia and I have a…complicated relationship. When the Princes and I lived with the King, she was his special adviser. When we were each assigned various kingdoms however, Dahlia chose to step down and help me build the North American kingdom. We built this kingdom from scratch and I am forever grateful to her for everything she has done for me thus far. I wouldn’t be where I am today without her help.

There's also the fact that we've fucked a few times, but that’s irrelevant.

''Dahlia, you know we can't do this,'' I said, trying to be the rational one. We swore over a century ago to end whatever it is that was going on between us. She was getting too attached and I didn't want to hurt her feelings. I have a kingdom to run and a lot of responsibilities rested on my shoulders. The last thing I needed was a relationship.

“That was forever ago, Dante,” her right hand cupped my face. “People change. We’ve changed.”

I sighed. “Dahlia, stop.”

I knew she harboured feelings for me but I couldn’t give her what she really wanted. I didn’t want to be a jerk and lead her on. But Dahlia never takes no for an answer. It’s one of the things I like about her. She’s also a very strong and assertive witch.

It took the willpower of a warrior in order to control the urge to not rip off her lilac dress and have my way with her. She is temptation personified and she always uses that to her advantage. Her red-coated nails found its way to my buttons as she tried to pry them off. ''It has been a century, Dante. I'm sure you can make an exception.''

Control yourself, f Dante.

''Dahlia,'' I warned again, but she paid me no mind. Her fingers skilfully popped open my buttons slowly, her candy-coated lips smiling because she knew the effect she had on me.We had sexual chemistry. That was it. She was beautiful no doubt, dare I say the most beautiful witch I’ve laid my eyes upon, but our chemistry only stopped at the physical aspect. I didn’t feel what humans would call a “spark” when I was with her.

And that’s why I’ve been doing my best to avoid her.

Once she got to the last button, I held her hand. ''I didn't come here for sex.''

''You always did a century ago.''

''My priorities are different now, Dahlia. I have a kingdom to run.''

''With me by your side, you would be unstoppable.''

It's not the first time she has made the proposal to be my Queen. To be honest, the thought had crossed my mind many times. She's the most powerful witch in North America and I'm a Prince. Our union would be great for the kingdom and we would most definitely be a force to be reckoned with. Also, the witches of North America would benefit maximally because their protection would be guaranteed for life.

Our enemies would bow at our feet- the wolves would bow at our feet.

But there's only one problem.

I don't want a Queen.

Sure, Dahlia is Queen material: she has the looks, the brain and the brawn and would no doubt be a spectacular asset, but I've been doing just fine on my own for the past two-hundred years.

''I bought a pet,'' I informed her, trying to change the subject before she gets any more ideas. ''I have a few questions only you can answer.''

 ''Trying to avoid the subject, I see.'' Retracting her fingers with a disappointed sigh, she smoothened the hem of her dress with her two hands. ''What do you want to know?''

''Her blood, it's different.''

A wave of jealousy hit her, but she kept her cool.

“You drank from her?”

A pang of guilt hit my chest as I recall that fateful day. I regret it. It was never my intention to hurt Kira almost to the point of death.

“I bought her for a good amount so I believe I have the license to drink from her as I so desire.” I said tightly.

My tone caught her off guard but she chose to ignore it. “Very well. Her blood is different in what sense?”

''It's not the same metallic taste that is common among the humans. It tastes…sweet yet sour, like witch blood.''

''But how can she have witch blood if she's human?''

That's the question I can't seem to wrap my head around. If she is a witch, what was she doing in a store where they sold humans? No witch would ever consent to being sold. They are exceptionally strong women who looked like Hollywood stars but are more lethal than poison.

 ''If I knew the answer, I wouldn't be here.'' I said irritably. She waved off my behaviour again, all too familiar with my mood swings. ''How about you bring me some of her blood, that way I can do some research and figure out who she really is.''

That makes sense. ''I know you don't do things for free, Dahlia. What's the catch?''

Her lips curved into a wicked grin. "Well you can’t get something for nothing. Other than the sapphire ring, there's no catch.''

I knew it.

Witches never did anything for free and Dahlia was no exception. Granted, she may have helped me build my kingdom, but she made sure I repaid her with my body. ''You know I don't have it.''

''Then get it,'' she shrugged.

The sapphire ring is a magical artefact in the custody of King Ambrose. Centuries ago, a powerful witch, yes, even more powerful than Dahlia, lived in Spain and she crafted the ring using wormwood, zebra skin, a goat’s breath and clay from the Arcacia Forests. It was said that in order to protect herself from the humans of the Orthodox church who tried to 'purify' her, she got rid of her human body and transferred her soul into the ring.

According to the King, it’s a very powerful and dangerous item which could cause chaos to the supernatural world. The Diafor mages entrusted him with the task of keeping the ring and it has been in his custody for centuries and he has not revealed to me, or to the other Princes, the location of the ring.

Why does Dahlia need the ring?

''How do you expect I do that?''

''The same way you always get what you want-persuasion.''

''I'll see what I can do.''  It's going to be next to impossible for me to persuade the king to hand over a powerful magical item.

But, I won't be Dante Rosetti if I didn't try.

Dahlia's soft lips met mine for a chaste kiss before I could protest. ''Bring me the ring and I'll tell you all you need to know.''

I nodded wordlessly and turned my back to her, ready to leave, but I stopped in my tracks. “Just out of curiosity, why do you need the ring?”

“For research purposes,” she said simply.

I turned to meet her eyes. “That’s all?”

She nodded, a smile gracing her face. “Of course, Dante. Why do you ask? Don’t you trust me?”

Trust is overrated. Father always told me that the only person you can trust is yourself. He also said to never trust witches.

“Of course I trust you, Dahlia. I know you would never do anything to betray me.”

She nodded. “Do well to remember that. My loyalty to you is to a fault. But it hurts that you don’t feel the same,” she dramatically puts a hand on her chest. “It breaks my dear, old heart.”

I give her a small smile of my own. “Cut the theatrics, Dahlia. You aren’t that great an actress.”

She gasped. “Says who? I’ll have you know I was the opening act in the Grand Ole Opera back in the 1920’s. People came from far and wide just to watch me perform.”

“I remember that all too well.”

 Dahlia ventured into theatre back then because she thought it would cure her longing need for excitement in her life. If you’ve been alive for centuries, you would have probably seen it all, heard it all and done it all to the point that life becomes monotonous and repetitive.

Dahlia would convince me to watch her perform at the opera on weekends. I was infatuated with her back then, so I’d tag along. People from France, the USSR, Spain, Costa Rica would gather to watch her play the part of Juliet in the Romeo and Juliet remake.

She was happy. It was one of those rare moments where I saw her really let her guard down and just be free. No one knew she was a witch and she blended in quite nicely with the human community. They had no idea supernaturals lived among them, breathing the same air as they did, and for a while we were happy with that.

So even though I was not a fan of the fake accents, the God awful costumes and the crowd of people that smelt like fresh meat, I still supported her because I knew she needed it. Dahlia had no family that I knew of. She never spoke about them and I never tried to pry that information out of her. If she wanted to tell me, she would have made her intentions known.

“Those were good times,” she mused.

I nodded. “Indeed, they were.”