"You look even more beautiful tonight, daughter." King Orsova beamed proudly after introducing his youngest child to every aristocrat, bureaucrat, and politician in the vicinity. "You remind me of your mother when she was your age. It was also the first time we met."
Akila's eyes softened at the mention of her mother, her fingers brushing the tiara sitting on the crown of her head. "Thank you for this wonderful gift, Father. I'm grateful beyond words."
"Think nothing of it. My daughter deserves to be happy on this special occasion and after you're wedded, I won't be seeing you as often as before." He sounded immensely saddened by it.
Akila clasped her father's hands. "I will come and visit every day if I'm able to. Unlike Sevia, I will not be far."
Orsova glanced down at his favourite child. Although he loved each of his children equally, Akila resembled his wife the most. Her marriage to the Duke of Ryre was inevitable as it was necessary to secure their familial connection. He was quite tempted to break off the engagement right then. Mentally shaking his head, he guided her to the heart of the ballroom, signaling for his secretary to approach them. Garnering attention with a faint clink of cutlery against his champagne glass, he deliberately cleared his throat. "First of all, I would like to thank each and every one of you for taking this night off and for accepting our invitation to celebrate the coming of age of my youngest daughter, Princess Akila. Before I add on to this toast, there is a gift I would like to bestow upon my dear daughter, one entrusted to me by the late Queen Lilja, my wife the Empress of Cronoa."
Anticipation thrummed in Akila's veins as her father's secretary opened up a small casing and revealed a teardrop gem the size of an olive. She locked gazes with her father as he gestured for her to turn around. Gently, he swept aside her hair and laid the gem upon her breastbone, securing the clasp at her nape. "Happy Birthday, my dear Akila," he whispered into her ear.
Unable to suppress the tears of joy, she whirled around to kiss her father on the cheek, throwing her arms around him. "Thank you, Father!"
The blatant show of affection took Orsova off guard but, he gladly returned her embrace, keenly aware of the crowd's merry cheer and hearty congratulations. Soon, the guests were distracted by something else as the crowd parted for a blonde-haired man, stylishly attired in a navy-blue evening suit. The flurry of whispers made Akila turn to see what the commotion was about. At the sight of the newcomer, her face broke into dazzling smile portraying her transparent love for her fiancé. "Ywain! You're here!"
Akila stopped herself from running over and throwing her arms around him. It had been four long months since their last encounter.
Showing his respect to both emperor and princess, Ywain bowed at the waist before addressing them. "Your Majesty, Your Highness. I'm relieved to have made it on time. Please, forgive my tardiness."
Akila extended her hand for his apologetic kiss, giggling lightly.
"I was about to announce the engagement," Orsova reprimanded lightly, his tone weighted with disapproval.
"It's fine, Father," Akila mollified, hooking her arm around her fiancé's. She wiggled her brows. "Weren't you about to announce something?"
There were days when he wished his daughter didn't take after his wife's daring and cheekiness. It gave him more headaches to nurture after raising three daughters and a son. Sighing in defeat, he returned his attention to the guests and announced the betrothal of Princess Akila to Ywain, the Duke of Ryre.
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He observed them from the shadowy corners of the ballroom, his eyes tracking them like a tiger on a hunt. Leaning casually against the ivory pillar, he sipped on the tepid wine that paled in comparison to fresh warm blood. The Duke of Ryre was a man whose name was brandished around town and bordering nations. He didn't like the human male. From the tip of his blonde roots to the tip of his polished black boots, the man reeked of something vile and that was a lot coming from an equally despicable creature. The princess on the other hand was the complete opposite from the male peacocks flocking her.
She was a different breed from them — innocent and pure. A virgin.
Her scent was clean and oh-so-sweet that his fangs ached to sink into her skin. How he wanted to taste her. Never in his life had blood smelled so delicious, making his mouth water. This human was unique. Her condition sounded like the circulating rumour that enabled a demon to identify a Blood Priestess. His eyes narrowed.
Could she be the one?
He continued to scrutinize the couple.
The princess's infatuation with the Duke was clear as day, the trust and yearning in her eyes made his skin crawl. She was disgustingly open and gullible it made him want to do things to her – to hurt her. A bolt of excitement mingled with the awakening blood lust and attraction made him tremble with heady anticipation. Never had he gotten so worked up over a human before. Making up his mind, he decided to introduce himself to the little lamb. If she believed the Duke of Ryre was a real man, then she had yet to meet a real demon.
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The evening turned out well, stretching into the wee hours of midnight. She was exhausted but, floating on the giddy rush of euphoria from the several glasses of champagne coupled with the feeling of disbelief that she was truly an engaged woman. Excusing herself for some fresh air, she decided to take a long walk in the gardens where a handful of couples were engaged in intimate activities, camouflaged by darkened sanctuaries of the castle maze. Ywain offered to accompany her but, she was insistent to go alone.
A blush crept along her cheekbones as she swept by a tall bush emitting strange, discernible noises. Quickening her footsteps, she hastened to the fountain in the middle of the garden where it was cool and quiet. Thrusting a hand into the chilly waters, she scooped a handful and drank thirstily. Engrossed in her task, she didn't sense the looming figure sneaking up from behind.
"Aren't you supposed to be inside celebrating your betrothal?"
Akila gave an unladylike squeal, jolting forwards in alarm and would have plunged into the cold waters if the stranger hadn't caught her around the waist. Her hands shot out to grip her rescuer's arm, breathing a sigh of relief when her balance was restored. The solid, well-sculpted feel of muscles beneath the man's sleeve made her suddenly aware that she was alone with a total stranger who had just scared the wits out of her. Lifting her face, she opened her mouth to say something but instead, was captivated by a pair of silver molten eyes. Beneath the moonlight, they shone with an eerie quality close to ethereal.
"My apologies if I have frightened you. It wasn't my intention." His voice was low and soothing, his vowels cultured and refined.
She blinked like an owlet, still wrapped in his arms. "No, that's alright. I should have sensed you earlier."
They both fell silent.
He was staring at her so intently she squirmed with discomfort, pushing gently against his chest as a silent request to release her. His arm fell back to his side but not without leaving a light caress on her waist. The gesture made her even more aware of him, telling her that he was dangerous. Unknowingly, she felt a chill in her bones and wrapped her arms around herself.
He didn't miss that protective gesture, a smirk tugging on his lips.
Taking a step back, she smiled feebly. "Please, don't let me hinder your walk. I'll be taking my leave now."
"Won't you accompany me for a moment?" he abruptly persuaded, their gazes still locked. "It's a beautiful night to share with a beautiful woman. And I have yet to congratulate you for your engagement to the Duke."
Her brows rose considerably. "Are you friends with Ywain?"
An unreadable expression crossed the man's sharp features. "Yes, we are acquaintances of a sort."
"I'm sorry, I didn't get your name."
He sketched a regal bow, removing his hat. "Forgive me for my late introduction, Your Highness. Zagan Kadlec, at your service."
"Kadlec?" She tested the strange name on her tongue. "I've never heard of you before."
"I've recently migrated from Vregia." He took a seat on the fountain bench, patting the empty spot beside him. "Have a seat. I won't bite, I promise."
Despite his verbal assurance, Akila couldn't shake the feeling of being preyed upon. Power emanated from his pores, from his posture, his manner of speech and those eyes that seemed to look right into her soul. To refuse him a second time would be impolite. Squaring her shoulders, she accepted his invitation and arranged her skirts carefully so they wouldn't crease.
"You're a very beautiful woman," he said bluntly, his fingers tracing the smoothness of her dress. "And this colour becomes you."
She swallowed nervously. "Thank you."
"Why are you out here alone? It's dangerous for a woman to be walking around unchaperoned even if it's in your own home, princess."
"Are you referring to yourself?" she blurted out, her eyes flying to his.
Zagan barked out in amusement, the transformation of his eyes from hardness to liquid mercury was amazing, making him appear less intimidating. "Touché, Princess. I apologize once more for scaring you. I merely longed for some company and happened to encounter a beautiful woman in a red dress by the fountain. Like a water sprite, you captivated me. Although, it certainly breaks my heart to know that you're engaged to Ywain. If we had met earlier, I would have courted you myself."
A smile flirted along her lips. "You are being dramatic, sir. I am but a woman, nothing more."
"Ah." He tipped her chin upwards, his face descending towards hers until their noses brushed. "But you are truly a unique woman. Certainly no one else has ever captured my attention like you have. I am honestly intrigued and had to introduce myself."
She stammered from his proximity and force of his gaze. "I-I…I'm flattered that you feel that way but, I'm engaged to the man I love."
For a split second, severity returned to his eyes before it vanished. "It doesn't matter to me," he murmured, lashes lowered as he stared at her parted lips. "All I want is a taste. I'm not asking you to marry me."
"S-sir?" Her heart began to pace, with alarm or anticipation she couldn't decide. Either way, she couldn't let this man steal a kiss. She began to pull away, but his hand shot out to capture her nape, holding her prisoner.
"Answer me this." He tilted her head, exposing the lovely column of her neck before leaning forward to scent her. "How can you be so certain that your fiancé loves you in return?"
"F-from the way he treats me."
"And how does he treat you?"
"He treats me gently and with respect."
"Is that all it takes for you to love someone?"
"Of course not," she replied steadily, wondering where this conversation was leading to. Her breath hitched when she felt his tongue dart out to lick her pulse. She jerked away reflexively. "What are you doing? Release me at once."
His grip was impossible to break, almost inhumane. Akila contemplated on punching him in the nose like Garrin had taught her, until the next question made her pause.
"Then how do you know he won't betray you after you wed?"
"That is what love is. You have to trust your partner regardless if the relationship fails. Love is selfless. You shouldn't have to expect anything in return."
"Humans are such silly creatures," he uttered unkindly, regarding her with sheer insolence.
Akila started at the revulsion in his voice, trying to break his grip in earnest. She thrusted her arms against his chest, shoving hard and bucking like a wild creature. "I say let me go!"
Long, masculine fingers slid into her hair, balling tightly as he yanked her closer, his eyes flashing heatedly. "You are foolish for making yourself vulnerable. Humans cannot be trusted, and love is an illusion."
"That's only because you've never felt it for yourself," she retorted angrily, redoubling her efforts.
"I've experienced the pain of betrayal more times than I can count," he sneered, his features overcast with mocking. "And love is merely a transaction of bodies and people exchanging benefits with one another. A woman's body for a man's security — that is the love you humans fantasize about."
Akila gritted her teeth in annoyance. Were it someone else in her disposition, they would have been terror stricken by being forcefully restrained and interrogated by a possibly deranged man but, not her. For a stranger like him to question her believe in love, it set her off. "Why do you keep disparaging humans as if you're not one of us? And it's bizarre to refer yourself as a third person. Aren't you the same as I?" she sniffed gallantly. "And the fact that you're questioning love's existence proves you have not met any worthy women in your life. It makes me question your taste in women."
Suddenly, Zagan smiled, and she spotted the twin fangs peeking beneath his upper lip, a pair that wasn't there before. She blanched, her muscles turning rigid with apprehension.
"I see you've finally gotten the sense to fear me." He delighted in shutting her up.
"What are you?" Her whisper came out broken as she regarded him with abject horror.
"Your worst nightmare," came his brisk reply before he swooped down and captured her lips with his own.
Akila was taken off guard by the attack, her eyes bulging wide open. She made a sound of protest, her hands balling into fists as she tried to dislodge him. The effort was wasted when he managed to slip his tongue between her lips and tasted her deeply, licking and caressing the warm, moist cavern of her mouth. She contemplated biting down when his grip tightened at the base of her skull, warning her not to try it. The only man she ever kissed was Ywain and their kisses were often chaste, nothing like this hot and intimate duel of tongues. This stranger kissed like he was starving, like he wanted to devour her whole. Bending her backwards over his arm, he deepened the kiss and sucked her tongue into his mouth. A needy moan vibrated in the air, and she was embarrassed to realise it came from her. Lids heavy with desire, her senses were heightened by what this man was doing to her.
Her body reacted with hot and cold waves of brazen thrill that rushed down her nerve endings and made her belly flutter. Her breasts suddenly felt too heavy and confined within the satin dress, her nipples hardening through the fabric.
Zagan broke the kiss and dipped his head, kissing down her neck to where her pulse fluttered like a hummingbird's wings. He was struggling to control his inner demon that demanded he rip into her flesh.
"Please…," Her soft mewl surprised him.
He paused, his smouldering eyes lifting, and he knew she could see the hunger written plainly on his face. It was also when she discovered that he wasn't human.
A small frown tugged the corners of her slightly swollen mouth.
"What are you?" She repeated her question, her voice stronger now and her eyes searching for an answer.
This was the moment he had been waiting for but, he hesitated.
"Please…," she begged fiercely. "You owe me that much."
A foreign feeling transcended over him, making him uncomfortable in his own skin for the first time. Annoyed that she was the cause of it, he allowed her to look her fill at his transformed face. "I'm a demon, princess, and I've come to claim this empire for my own."