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The Council Meeting (2)
Ife Adeyemi stepped forward with a toothy grin. “Mademoiselle Claire, enchanté.” Claire looked hesitantly to Elias, who smiled encouragingly. “I understand that you are unfamiliar with The Council as a whole?”
“I, um. Well, I,” she stammered, uncomfortable with the stares of so many on her. “I’ve done a bit of, I’ve read some.”
Ife’s grin grew; he liked her. She was beautiful, yes. But too many vampires tried to stand too tall to him, tried too hard to seem confident. He liked that she was smart enough to be scared.
“Well, it is my job to ensure that you do not lie. Unlike humans, we prefer to.” He
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When Marwen decided that Jocelyn would ‘take the stand,’ as it were, Claire felt a bubble of hope flutter around her chest. She would have to tell the truth. She would admit that everything she said about Elias was a lie, and that Claire wasn’t really a witch with any powers, and that everything could go back to the way it had been those few minutes that she felt freedom. But the cruel smirk gracing her grandmother’s face quickly popped anything she felt. She wore that smile as the High Priestess created the same blood spell, pressing it against the Priestess of The Yew Coven’s forehead. The dryad faced the old witch with a glare; they did not care for her cocky attitude, nor the fear that she struck into the hybrid. “You were listening
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There was a visible tremor of shock that ran through The Council Members after Jocelyn announced so calmly that Claire should die. A small squeak of fear escaped the hybrid’s lips, but she did not give the witch the satisfaction of looking in her direction. Marwen only narrowed their eyes in anger. “The Council did not ask for your opinion on the matter, Priestess. And we do not appreciate it. You may leave.” They raised their voice and spoke above the fire, “Elias Elhassan.” Jocelyn left, the matter-of-fact smile still on her face. Elias glowered at her as they passed one another. Immediately, he stood by Claire and reached his hand out to hers. Lifting her puffy face up from her hands, she stared at him blankly, ignoring his outstretched ha
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The dryad looked at the hybrid, who had distanced herself from her sire. They wondered briefly what the two had spoken of but quickly became apathetic to it all. They simply wished to return to the Fae Wilds at this point. “If the hybrid does not have magic, there is no need to consider a threat. Just as witches have lost their power when turned into werewolves, we will treat this as the same case. Any development of magic will result in the immediate execution of the hybrid and the sire.” Marwen turned to Elias. “You are forbidden from siring for the next century, when we shall reassess your case. Any attempts to do so will result in the immediate execution of yourself and any progeny made in that time.” Elias shrugged, uncaring. He had no intention of siring any time soon. In the past 1,500 years, he had sired only three vampires. Though when he was first turned, he used his ability l
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Elias stepped forward, frowning. He placed a hand on Claire’s shoulder, who offered him a disproving glance before stepping away, still helping Colin stay upright. As more time passed, he was growing weaker and weaker. His body needed to rest in order to flush out the massive amounts of wolfsbane in him, but his severely weakened wolf wouldn’t let him; his mate needed help. “She will come back with me,” Elias stated calmly. “Like hell I will,” Claire muttered under her breath. Ife grinned. “Well, Mademoiselle Claire, unfortunately we cannot leave you unattended.” Elias growled at the King quietly, but everyone could hear him anyways. “She should come with her family,” Jocelyn rep
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The moment Claire stepped foot on the gravel, a she-wolf raced up to her, pulling her into a bear hug. “I’m so excited to finally meet you!” she squealed.Claire didn’t move. She could hear the wolf’s heart beat jumping with her. The way her blood pumped. The way her blood smelt. She was getting dizzy.Colin noticed the stressed body language of his mate and pried the young woman off with a laugh, “Relax. Introduce yourself at the very least.”Slightly embarrassed, she stepped back, throwing her long, brown hair over her shoulder. A young man, about Colin’s age, stepped forward and wrapped his arm around her waist, offering her a foolish love-struck grin. He looked a bit like Colin too. He stuck his hand out with a smile and said, “I’m Reed, and this is Kali.”Claire smiled slightly, taking his giant hand in her own. “Claire,” she replied softly.Colin wanted to pick up h
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Elias sat in the corner of the room, watching for any change in the rise of the red silken sheets. He heard a large mouse, no, a young rat, run in the walls above and cursed under his breath. The knowledge of its existence would bother him during such an important day. The grand bed moved slightly, drawing his attention back. But it was just the breeze swaying the lace canopy, not the girl. He grunted and slammed the window shut, cracking the glass.Elias stared at the bed, brown eyes willing her to wake up. She had to work – the warlock had divined her success himself, led Elias to her door, and casted the curse that left her ready to be turned. If the warlock was wrong, Elias thought to himself. He will face serious regrets. As Elias began to muse the old techniques used to torture practitioners of magic, the girl gasped, panicked.She screeched, still feeling the searing pain of his blood working his way through her deteriorated body. Elias appeared at her sid
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It was not until the next morning did the young woman really wake up. When she did, she screamed out, only remembering the pain she had been in, but felt no longer. Once her body registered that it was fine, she tried to look around for her glasses. But as she did, she realized not only did she not need them, she could see everything. The dust that caught the sun through the cracked window. The dirt pressed into the grain of the wood floor, even something darker that had dried into the lines. The slight texture hidden beneath the crisp white paint on the walls. As she looked down at her hands, she gasped.They were as they had been before. Before the barrage of white coats and hospital beds. They had taken on deathly pallor, with veins popping out as if they were all that stood between the bone and the skin. But now, they looked normal. The pink undertone had returned. Slowly, she reached for her face, nearly laughing with glee as she felt her full, hot cheeks. Not only that,
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