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  • Essay / chapter 6 - 1337

    The smell of blood reached Arali as she opened the door to her sanctuary. Zyanya perched on her desk, her anger far from appeased. The blood was fresh, human, smeared across the young vampire's face. She avoided Zyanya's venomous gaze, wanting nothing more than to end this particular night. She also found herself at a loss for words as she passed her. Zyanya followed Arali into the bedroom, grabbing her arm to spin the marshal around. She introduced herself when their eyes met, “Is this what you want?” Her anger rose at Zyanya's tone, she knew she had to put a stop to this. Arali rolled her eyes in rejection. “I’m not having this conversation with you, not right now.” She turned away. None of his lineage would dare, except for Zyanya, who sent the marshal falling onto his bed. Before Arali could recover, Zyanya was on top of her, placing his hands above her head and straddling her waist. Lowering her head, Zyanya met Arali's dazed eyes, holding them with an icy gaze. "Are you happy now? Is this what you wanted?" Arali clenched her fists to counteract the numbness caused by Zyanya's grip on her wrists. She opened her mouth to retort, her muscles tensing for a physical response, but was cut off. , "Then you will have your monster, but you are not worthy of my love." With that, she walked away from Arali and left the rooms, slamming the outer door as hard as she could. Arali propped herself up on her elbows, shaking her head as if to clear a mist as she stared into Zyanya space. had left. She abandoned her attempt to remove her boots on the third try, falling back onto the bed with her arms spread out to the side, uttering a silent "Fuck," she let...... middle of paper. ......her feet, along her legs, rosettes of blood were spreading rapidly on her simple woolen dress. Blood was dripping from his fingertips. The breeze picked up, sending everyone around him spinning around. She turned toward the cry of an owl, finding Ashur standing behind her, his face strangely unfamiliar. She fell into the river, helpless to free herself from the hands at her throat that held her below. Arali jumped up from her bed as her eyes opened, her body trembling from the cold sweat drenched. His clothes. Slowly, his eyes adjusted to his current surroundings. She caught her breath. And fell to his knees in front of the window, his hands trapped in his hair. Leaning back, she let out a discordant cry, escaping the pressure in her chest before collapsing forward, clinging to the streaks of light spilling through the curtains onto the wooden floor...