Beast of the Damned #2

*Chapter Five*

~ TRISTAN ~

"You look ready to rip someone's head off." Nakasha comes to my side, my scowl fixated on the one person in the room it shouldn't be.

What would possess the Prince of Darkness to ply my father with massarra blood? He has first-hand experience at how intoxicatingly addictive it can be. Why would he risk losing my father's ability to stay of sound mind? The Prince knows what's going to happen. He saw it happen to me.

There comes a point after drinking the life force of a massarra that no other nourishment will do. When this point is reached, you'll do anything to satisfy that all-consuming, unquenchable thirst their blood creates and I mean anything.

The back of my throat burns, the lingering fumes of Kinley's cinnamon-spiced blood she offered to me in that chalice wreaking havoc though it's been over two hours since the occurrence. If my eyes could get any darker, they'd be doing so right now.

"It probably isn't wise to be looking at our ruler in such a hostile regard. The room appears to be full of watchful eyes." Nakasha tilts her head in the direction of the many staring at me as if I'm a spectacle in itself.

It has been a long time since the ancients and noble vampirie have beheld me in my true form. For others, they have never seen a vampire quite like me. Let them take a hard look at the beast I am, for I am a beast that will slay them no differently than he does the humans.

"When have you known me to be the wisest of our kind? My reputation is not staked on my stellar ability to be civil. It's quite the opposite." I move the glowering scrutiny I placed on the Dark Prince onto my father.

Besides the Prince, no other vampire presents a challenge to me except my father. Thron's power is greater than any of the firstborn under my command. If I am being honest, my father's strength surpasses the Dark Prince's. The Prince of Darkness does not need to be the strongest of us. He just has to be the most powerful and that he is. He commands the strongest of us with a flick of his wrist. I am the only upset in the order of power balance and, for that, the Prince of Darkness plans to make me pay for an eternity.

Nakasha steps in front of me, her demeanor turning deathly serious. "When are we going to address what needs to be discussed before—"

"Some other time." I leave Nakasha standing in the middle of the room to pursue the brat offspring that has spent the last decade fighting beside my father. I've more important matters to tend with than worrying about the Warriors of the Damned defying orders I've already given them.

The female vampire Zaidan's talking to falls silent when I walk up behind him, my appearance startling her. I'm much colder in person than my reputation proceeds.

"Leave us," I order.

The vampire shy of being two decades old scampers away.

"Tristan." Zaidan turns around. "It's good to see you have not shunned the more refined festivities. I bet your father you'd spend the whole evening lining the village streets with entrails. Looks like I half won the bet." He gives my soiled armor a once over.

"How long has the Prince been offering Thron massarra blood?" I ask, having no patience for the small talk Zaidan wishes to engage in.

"Is someone jealous?" Zaidan's lips curve into an exuberant expression at the sight of all the muscles in my face tensing.

"I wouldn't blame you for being jealous. I, myself, find I'm envious of the massarra blood my father has been gifting to Thron." Zaidan angles himself to see past me.

I crane my neck to see what's caught his eye. Kinley is standing by the refreshment table. The vampirie around her giving her a wide berth while the guards assigned to watch over her hover in the background. The one closest to her backs off when he spots me looking in their direction.