'Enough of this,' Isolde's thoughts cut through the silence like a razor. 'I don't thirst for the souls of humans; it's the vampires I want to tear asunder,' she thought with steely determination.
The culmination of the mass brought a welcome end to the ordeal. The departing audience shuffled out of the sacred hall, leaving behind an air of solemnity. Isolde's gaze remained fixated on her hands, as if searching for answers in the lines etched into her palms. Her thoughts wrestled with the unsettling events of the day.
Beside her, sister Celestia broke the quietude, her gentle voice pulling Isolde from her reverie. "It's finally over. Let's return to the orphanage," she suggested. Isolde offered a silent nod and trailed behind her, their steps carrying them away from the austere chapel and toward the waiting carriage.
As they rode back to the orphanage, Isolde couldn't shake the unease that clung to her like a shadow.
***
Under the shroud of night, Isolde lay ensconced in the realm of dreams, blissfully oblivious to the encroaching darkness outside her window. It was then that an ominous symphony of footsteps, a sinister prelude to impending danger, echoed through the room. Startled, she reluctantly unveiled her eyes, searching the obscurity for the source of the looming threat, only to find Azrael, an enigmatic figure, looming beside her bed like a predator eyeing its quarry. Her breath caught in her throat, and she struggled to put more distance between them, a feeble attempt to escape the inexorable gravity of his presence.
Azrael's chuckle reverberated through the room, a haunting melody that underscored the tension in the air. He reached for her arm, his touch both electrifying and chilling, and settled beside her as if he were a shadow cast by the moon itself. Trembling, Isolde finally found her voice, her words quivering with fear. "Why are you here?" she asked, her voice a delicate whisper in the night.
For a protracted moment, Azrael's penetrating gaze remained locked on her, the silence thick with unspoken secrets. "You know," he murmured, his voice a soft caress, "that you possess a beauty so rare it rivals the stars?"
Isolde's gaze, previously cold and unyielding, faltered for an instant before regaining its intensity. "That's not what I asked you. Answer my question," she demanded, her voice now a steel-edged retort, her eyes locked onto his. His grip on her hand tightened, a silent acknowledgment of the undeniable pull between them. "Yes, I know," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, "and my name is Azrael, by the way."
An unbroken silence enveloped them, the weight of their unspoken connection palpable in the air. Finally, Azrael resumed, his words laden with both yearning and reluctance. "I tried with all my might to keep my distance, to stay away from you. But, Isolde, I cannot resist the irresistible."
"If you've come for blood, take it," Isolde growled, her voice laden with both defiance and resignation. "Once you're done, leave, and never return." She turned her head away, resolute in her attempt to avoid his piercing gaze. But Azrael remained unmoved, a statue cloaked in darkness, his eyes fixated on her as though he were unraveling a puzzle.
"What do you want from me, Azrael?" Isolde snapped, her anger igniting like a tempest within her. A sinister smile curled on Azrael's lips, sending shivers cascading down Isolde's spine. He bridged the distance between them, his breath a tantalizing caress against her skin, his voice an intoxicating whisper.
"Hearing my name on your lips," he mused, his heart thundering in his chest, "it sets my world ablaze." Azrael locked his gaze with Isolde's violet eyes, a connection stronger than fate itself. "I want nothing from you because you are already mine," he purred, his words a siren's call, "I can claim you without asking for permission."
As his fingers danced through her hair, his warm breath played upon her earlobe, awakening a maelstrom of desire within her. Isolde clamped her eyes shut, fighting to maintain control over her tumultuous emotions. With sheer determination, she pushed Azrael away, banishing him from her bed and the intoxicating allure of his presence.
After a brief interlude of silence, Azrael's laughter sliced through the tension in the room. Isolde's puzzled gaze bore down upon him, and his wicked grin only deepened as he relished her confusion. Swiftly, she yanked the bedcover up, attempting to shield herself from his presence.
"Stay away," Isolde hissed, her anger seething, "We are far too young for whatever nefarious intentions you harbor. Just take my blood and leave this place at once."
Azrael's expression contorted in initial bewilderment, but as her words registered, a chuckle bubbled within him. His laughter danced through the room once more, leaving Isolde further confounded. With graceful poise, he sat upright, crossing his legs, and planted his elbows on his knees.
"Oh! You believe I have impure intentions?" he teased, a devilish twinkle in his eyes. "Fear not, my dear. I mean to amuse myself, not to frighten you. So, cease this futile concealment," he declared, his smugness ever apparent as he abandoned his spot on the floor, gravitating toward her.
A wider smirk tugged at his lips as he ascended onto her bed, his predatory gaze fixed upon her. "Rest assured, I won't proceed without your consent," he mused, his tone laced with an unsettling confidence. "Though, even in your refusal, I am not known for my patience," he added, his intentions cloaked in enigmatic allure.
"I reject any entanglement with a vampire such as yourself," Isolde declared, her wary eyes fixed upon him. Undeterred, Azrael shrugged nonchalantly, coming to a halt beside her pillow. Leaning in, he framed her head with his arms, bridging the chasm between them with an intensity that sent shivers racing down her spine.
"That's not something you get to decide," Azrael whispered with a sultry tone that hung heavy in the air. His lips brushed against her neck, and Isolde shivered involuntarily. His declaration sent a thrill through her, and her heart raced.
Even as she gasped at his actions, his fangs traced a slow, tantalizing path along her throat, igniting a fiery sensation that caused Isolde to groan softly. Azrael's smile, hidden in the crook of her neck, widened as he relished her responses, his own desires simmering beneath the surface.
Inwardly torn by her conflicting feelings, Isolde couldn't help but question herself. 'I'm supposed to loathe vampires, but why does it feel so different with him? I must escape this place... Or at the very least, find a way to hide from him,' she thought resolutely, her resolve strengthening as she pushed Azrael away.
His brows furrowed in response to her feeble attempts to ward him off, but Azrael wore a devilish grin that sent a chill down her spine. With a swift, purposeful motion, he drew Isolde back towards him, encircling her waist with his arms, and their bodies pressed together as he toppled her onto the bed. His weight immobilized her, rendering her struggles futile.
Azrael's lips, now free from her neck, returned to their tantalizing exploration, his hot breath sending her senses reeling. Isolde's struggles intensified, but his overpowering presence held her firmly in place.
Unwavering, Azrael's tongue caressed the bite mark on her neck, a gesture that not only stopped the bleeding but also initiated the healing process. His actions spoke of an intimacy she'd never experienced, and it left her bewildered and conflicted, her heart and mind in a chaotic struggle.
"Now we're even," Azrael quipped with a cocky grin, his eyes gleaming with mischief. Isolde clenched her teeth and bit down hard on her lip, determined not to yield. But Azrael's relentless pursuit knew no bounds. He pressed on, undeterred, his intentions crystal clear.
As Isolde began to despair that his advances might never cease, she summoned her last ounce of strength and bit him in retaliation. Azrael gasped, his eyes widening in disbelief. 'Are you kidding me?' his incredulous thoughts raced as he grappled with the unexpected pain.
Seizing the opportunity, Isolde used her sudden freedom to slip away from Azrael's iron grip. In a swift, graceful movement, she tossed him off the bed before making a break for the door. But just as she reached for the handle, Azrael's hand latched onto her arm once more, his determination unwavering.
This time, Azrael didn't tug her closer. He maintained a tight hold around her wrist, thwarting her escape. Frustration bubbled within Isolde, and she turned to glare at him, her anger an inferno. Yet Azrael, undisturbed by her fury, wore a devilish grin that only stoked the flames of her rage.
Without warning, he scooped her into his arms and started making his way back toward the bed. Isolde fought against him, struggling to break free. With a forceful gesture, Azrael flung her onto the mattress and, with lightning speed, pinned her wrists above her head using his own hands.
"I said let go!!!" Isolde yelled with all the defiance she could muster, her voice a fierce roar. Azrael chuckled, his tone dripping with sarcasm as he retorted, "I'm sorry, but that's not happening. I made it pretty clear earlier, didn't I? I don't intend to release you anytime soon."
His words hung in the air like a promise of things to come, and Azrael leaned closer, his lips dangerously close to Isolde's ear. Her fear was palpable as he relinquished his grip on her wrists only to swiftly wrap his arms around her waist, trapping her once more in his inescapable hold.
Isolde froze as Azrael's chest pressed against her back, his intoxicating scent enveloping her, a mixture of blood and body heat. The more Isolde attempted to shake him off, the nearer he drew, making her breathing grow heavier and her pulse race, causing tremors to course through her entire body under Azrael's touch.
"Don't be afraid. I'm not going to harm you," he huskily whispered into her ear. His deep, seductive voice sent shivers down Isolde's spine, raising the hairs on the back of her neck.
Eventually, her strength waned, leaving her powerless to struggle against him. She felt his warm breath brushing against the skin behind her ear as he continued, "Please, don't make this more difficult for yourself."
"I won't allow you to have me," she protested, her voice trembling with resolve as she pushed against him with all her might. However, his grip on her wrist only tightened, and he pressed his face closer to her neck, inhaling deeply, causing Isolde to gasp at the overwhelming closeness.