Lucien 🥀🥀
~~~

Their footfalls were in multitudes, just as he had suspected they were a lot of them. They were in their wolf form, circling the area near the lake, but none daring to come close to the house.

He inhaled deeply, noting the scents of each individual pack, grateful his sister had forced him to learn their scents, and all the packs in the world were present. They were serious.

He turned to Phaedra who was visibly shaking on the ground, clutching the gun to her bosom.

It wasn't a secret that he liked to reside here from time to time he wasn't surprised they were able to track him easily. They wanted her because they thought with her in their possesssion, they would have the upper hand, and by all things holy, they were absolutely right.

Their reason was simple, take the prize of the duel, and the King of vampires would try to tear down their packs for his pride. But it was really about Phaedra and Lucien. The vampire that was nothing before her who would tear down their existence to get her back.

An image of her, bloody on the floor, not a beat from her heart, flashed in his mind, and he snatched the gun from her hand, unable to bear it. He needed to take her back to the palace under the protection of his sister or Gerald, the two people he trusted the most. He needed to take her as far away from this as possible because it was going to be ugly.

The question was how?

He had intended to teleport her to the palace because if he were to fight them off, there was a fair chance they would get to her if he got distracted. However, the damn werewolves, with the help of a fairy for sure, had done some kind of spell that was restricting him from teleporting far distances. He knew this because he had tried several times. He didn't want to tell her; he didn't want to scare her.

She stood staring at him with those beautiful eyes of hers. He dropped the gun and made his way to the kitchen, searching the cupboards for a silver knife. He found one.

Silver couldn't harm his skin; he was immune to it. But when struck in his heart, it could impale him for a moment.

He knew she was standing at the door, looking at him. He turned to her, positioned the knife above his heart, and pushed it in, stopping when the tip of the knife was above his heart. The pain was intense, but nothing compared to the look of absolute horror on her face as she rushed to him, screaming his name. "Luci..."

He moved to her lightning fast and clamped a hand over her mouth, backing her against a wall. The tears misted in her eyes and began to fall, touching his hand.

He took her hand and wrapped it around the knife. He spoke in her mind. "They can hear you."

She spoke back to him. She was smart. "Why is there a knife inside you?"

This was the hard part. The part he had been dreading for days. "I need your blood."

He waited for her response, but all she did was nod.

"I need you to try to count from one to twenty. If I can't stop, push in the knife."

"You are fast enough to stop me."

That was a valid point, plus she might be a little bit weak. He pushed in the knife a little bit deeper, holding in a groan of pain as it drove into his heart, but not deep enough to impale him.

He needed to make this quick.

"Relax," he grunted in her mind, and then his fangs shot out. He tried his best to be gentle as he buried them in her neck. As expected, her blood was immaculate. He had been terrified that he wouldn't be able to stop drinking from her, but he had been able to because she was too important to him to die so easily.

He drew away from her after closing her wounds and shoved the knife out of his chest. She didn't say a word, just stared at him with teary eyes.

Drinking from her, as he had suspected, had broken the spell keeping him from teleporting. That should be something to be happy about, but he wasn't. Something he couldn't quite fathom was screaming at him.

He had to take her out of there. He took her hand and teleported into the meeting room of the palace. Pairs of eyes landed on them, each becoming questioning at his sudden appearance. His sister, being such a patriot to the kingdom, must have called the meeting to discuss a pending issue, even with his chair, which was at the head of the table, being empty.

"Werewolves," he supplied. "Multitudes of every pack."

Their expressions were serious before, and it became even more serious as they stood ready to teleport with him back. The werewolves couldn't be left alive.

Facing Phaedra, he promised. "I'll be back." He turned to one of the servants in the room. "Take her to the maids. She is to be well taken care of."

He teleported then, along with the other originals. Not because he couldn't handle the werewolves alone, but because they would never let him.

***
Happy new year ◔‿◔🌸