Bloodline

Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Hannibal was a monstrosity of a male.

He stood at least seven feet tall with a pair of huge black boots that only added to his height. His long black hair hung halfway down his back, his skin dark, his eyes mismatched with one being icy blue and the other milky white with a scar that rushed through it and forked off at the corner of his mouth, giving him almost a snarl. He was decked out in a sleeveless turtleneck and black leather pants. He looked nothing like a king and more like an assassin.

Hannibal didn't say anything when Akin greeted him. In fact, those eyes shot from Thirteen to me so fast I'm surprised they didn't pop out of his skull. And immediately mismatched eyes narrowed and I could tell right away he was not a fan of what was happening right now. His eyes said I was an intruder and holy shit did I fucking feel like it in that moment. The guy was a threat. I felt it to the core of my soul.

"What's going on." It wasn't a question. His voice was a deep rumbling baritone. It sounded more like he growled than actually talked. I looked to see if Thirteen was at all disturbed by the male's presence, but fucking hell, the kid was completely ignoring him and watching his stupid show. I wanted to get across the room to him, but my feet were frozen in place. I couldn't move. It felt like even one twitch would trigger the King into a fucking slaughter.

"This is Seven," Akin introduced warmly, "He's the person Thirteen told us about, remember?" Akin was all calm, cool, casual about this entire thing. On the other hand, the King's eyes darkened. He clearly didn't want me there and honestly, the feeling was fucking mutual.

"I... I can leave," I started, looking at the exit, but those eyes tracked me so fast that I was afraid to even make a move for the exit

"Don't be silly," Akin told me, then looked at Hannibal patiently, "I was actually just telling him it would be much safer for him and Thirteen to stay here. With us." There was a strange look in Akin's eyes, I noted. It was hard to describe anything other than authoritative. I expected the King to throw Akin across the room for talking like that, but Hannibal seemed to contain himself and whatever rage he was feeling.

"They need safe haven," Keros agreed, completely relaxed as well, "They escaped a cult that will probably start to look for them when they realize they're gone." Hannibal eyed him for a moment, then looked back at me. There was something so eerie about those mismatched eyes, and there was still this alarm going off in the back of my mind, something that told me there was something deadly about this male, something murderous. Like, one wrong breath could set him off.

I quickly came to the conclusion that I didn't want Thirteen anywhere near him. I had no idea how Thirteen could dismiss his presence so easily, but I sure as hell didn't trust him. For fuck's sake, the guy was towering there, glaring at me like he wanted to rip my ribs out and use them as toothpicks.

"How about we sit down and talk?" Akin asked at last. Hannibal didn't say anything. He just headed for us and I immediately plopped my ass down the moment the words left Akin's mouth. Hannibal walked over with a kind of male pride I almost envied, actually. Tall, broad, rippling with muscles, his body was a symphony of masculinity. He pulled a chair out across from me and sat down.

"How about we start with where you came from?" Akin asked me gently. I averted my eyes warily.

"A cult..." My voice trailed as I tried to find the words to make up the story I'd fed Keros, but I couldn't find it in me to gather my thoughts appropriately. Or, it was more precise to say, I felt like I couldn't lie. Not with Hannibal sitting there staring at me like he was ready to rip my head off and play basketball with it.

"Not much information," Hannibal deadpanned. Akin shot him a look and I expected Hannibal to kill him just for that dirty look, but he seemed to relax and sat back in his seat. Akin turned to look at me again with a patient smile.