What a ridiculous notion. There had been no royals during Therese’s time. No castles or laws.
The Twelve had ruled these lands, as was their gods-given right.
As far as Therese was concerned, the so-called king and queen were imposters. After all, Ithiar had given this land to the Firsts. It wastheirs. The others were still locked up, bound by that damned witch’s curse, but Therese was back, and vengeance would be hers. A flame burned deep in her chest, urging her to reclaim what she’d once had.
It wasn’t a want.
It was aneed.
This was her purpose. Why else would she have awoken now?
She would destroy the fake royals, and when she was done, she would find a way to wake the others. She would break the binds placed upon them, and together, they would rule the land with crimson fists.They would be stricter than before, and this time, no one would dare rise against them.
But before that, she had to regain every ounce of strength she’d lost.
And so, she continued her hunt. She ran through the woods, following the scent of life, until she found its source.
It was a gift from Ithiar himself.
Therese slowed, her mouth twisting into a smile as she gazed upon the village. Log buildings of varying sizes sat in a clearing, surrounded by snowy pines. Misty tendrils of smoke rose from chimneys, and the powerful aroma of life was nearly overwhelming.
The broken vampire who’d emerged from her tomb was long gone. Therese was as silent as the night itself as she crept forward with gods-blessed grace and swiftness.
Following her nose, she slinked through the snow towards the largest structure. Lanterns flickered in the windows, and merry strands of string music filtered through the snowy night, mingling with laughter and conversation.
Therese crept around the side of the building and stared through a frosted pane.
Ithiar had blessed her, indeed.
All in their second and third decades of life, two dozen humans laughed and danced their cares away. Therese smiled, her tongue flicking the tip of a fang, as two young men in dapper black suits shared a passionate kiss mid-dance.
Some part of Therese recognized this mortal custom as one that she’d once enjoyed. Perhaps at one point, she would’ve joined in their revelries.
She was no longer that woman.
The god of blood had sent her here for a reason, and she’d be a fool to pass up his gift. She wasn’t sure how much time went by before one of the dancers turned towards the window.
Sky blue eyes framed by a head of blonde curls met the vampire’s gaze. Cherry-red lips opened in a scream. A finger rose, pointing to her hiding spot.
Showtime.
Therese stood and dusted off the snow that had fallen on her as she studied her prey. She strode confidently to the door, sending her shadows around to block the other exit, and walked inside.
The music abruptly stopped. Dancers froze mid-waltz. Dozens of eyes swung to the door. Someone gasped. Another screamed. A few hands traveled to weapons.
Therese smirked in amusement. As if they would be strong enough to stop her.
“Hello, lovelies,” she crooned, shadows blocking the door behind her and trapping the humans inside. “Don’t you look delectable?”
The mortals fought back.
They screamed and shouted and tried to use their pathetic blades against her.
The way they held onto their insignificant lives so dearly was amusing. As if they had something to live for. As if they weren’t weak and only existed on this planet to serve creatures of the night.
Ridiculous.
They struggled and wept, and she grinned. Their screams were a melodic symphony as she drained them of their blood, leaving their bodies in a growing pile in the middle of the floor.