Draven took another sip of fresh blood as he gazed at the open window, simply watching the chirping birds pass by, the morning breeze swaying the curtains, and the annoying morning sun seeping into his room. However, the sunlight didn't touch the path on which he sat.
The sun was his enemy, a light that weakened him - a balance, as he, darkness, did not deserve light, neither did he desreve Madeline; she would only suffer in his lair, in the devil's layer, where she would scream and cry every day.
He felt sorry but knew he needed to be selfish to survive. Humans could kill for survival afterall, and not like he would take her life; he would only take something from her to save himself.
"Arhh," he flung the cup to the ground, blood splattering around. The taste of blood was no longer satisfying after he laid eyes on her. Nothing had been the same since. Despite his impending death and the withering of his garden, he had lived normally. But meeting her changed everything.
He hungered for more, lost control of his senses, and felt his power diminishing. It wasn't just for more blood; it was specifically for her blood.
How long has he wanted someone this badly, he couldn't remember. How long has he hungered for someone's blood? It was as if he would go mad without it. Maybe he did remember, but he chose not to let his mind wander there. Hell, it only brought back memories of pain, which is why he knew Madeline was dangerous for him. He shouldn't be craving her blood... He couldn't possibly.
Draven got up from the bed, his eyes traveling towards the now brighter sun. He shot it a glare and then walked past it, hissing each time his skin was touched by the sun. Seriously, how could he make the sun go away forever?
Sebastian was not his kind, so he was lucky to roam about freely. Speaking of Sebastian, where must he be?
Draven strode out of his room, passing from the dark corridor to the one filled with light, ignoring the irritation he felt. When he reached the end of the corridor, he stopped by a brown door.
"Sebastian," he called, knowing he was inside, as he could hear his heartbeat.
There was a dragging of feet at the other end, then the door swung open, and he was greeted by a man wearing a black robe—a stark contrast to his white ruffled hair. How lucky he must be to be able to sleep.
"Do you not have duties?" Draven asked, tilting his head. "You're sleeping in."
"Actually," Sebastian raised a finger, his eyes blinking to remove the sleep, "I must have gotten drunk last night."
Draven frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. How many times had he told him not to get drunk, not to indulge in human wines and food? They weren't good for either of them. He must have consumed a lot.
"You must be losing your senses," Draven sighed, staring at his friend, one he had known for centuries, one who had been on his side when everyone else had left. Although his kind were enemies to him, Sebastian chose to go against them just to stand by his side. As for Anna, he wasn't sure if she was to be trusted yet.
Sebastian grinned, his boyish face appearing. "You look rather sullen. Did Demoiselle reject you?" he continued grinning, knowing it would annoy him.
"Get your sword; I want a duel," Draven announced.
Sebastian frowned, raising his brow. "A duel? If you're upset, my king, we should battle in the woods. Swordplay is boring."
"Sword is what I need," Draven said. He knew swords were half as powerful as what he could do with his bare hands, but right now, he didn't want to go on a rampage. He only needed to clear his head
"Get dressed and meet me shortly," Draven commanded, without waiting for Sebastian to respond, he walked away.
Sebastian blinked, ruffling his hair. "It's quite early for a duel; what could be bothering the king?"
Within a few seconds, Sebastian was already dressed in his boots, petticoats, and pants. A sword was sheathed at his waist, his hair now properly combed back. He leaned against the wall in front of the grand door.
It didn't take long for the door to fling open, revealing the disheveled Draven. His usually well-kept hair was ruffled, many strands falling onto his forehead. He wore a slightly transparent white undershirt, accentuating his muscles. Paired with black pants and boots, he held the sword's hilt firmly in his hand.
Sebastian didn't know what to make of it—whether to back off from the hunting look in Draven's eyes or to fight to quell his friend's anger.
"You should tell me what's wrong rather than fighting," Sebastian suggested, but he knew Draven wasn't one to open up easily. He preferred to handle things his own way or keep them to himself unless he chose to share.
Ignoring Sebastian's advice, Draven marched away from the corridor, prompting Sebastian to sigh and follow behind. It was too early for a fight in Sebastian's opinion.
As they stepped into the large sitting room, illuminated by a huge chandelier, two guards followed them. Draven raised his hand, gesturing for the guards to step back.
"I will be back," he announced, not sparing them a glance.
The guards nodded and stood aside, ready in case they were needed for assistance.
Behind him, Sebastian murmured softly, his voice low for only Draven to hear. "Isn't the sun too hot for you?"
Draven nodded, "I figured. We should go to the woods instead."
"And fight without swords?" Sebastian's eyes lit up with excitement at the prospect of using powers and fists in a fight. However, Draven interrupted his thoughts with a scoff.
"No," Draven dismissed the idea, "I need a sword fight."
Sebastian nodded, scolding himself for his fleeting fantasies and resolved to follow the king's direction.
As the door swung open, they expected to be greeted by the morning sun. Instead, both men halted in shock, for before them stood Madeline.
'Madeline? But no one had called for her', Draven thought, 'What was she doing here?'