Chapter 17: Ma-Master

As he leaned back into his seat, Zyren placed one hand on the armrest and the other against the side of his face, lounging like a king who already knew the outcome of a game before it began.

"Did I tell you to get off?" he growled, his crimson eyes narrowing with displeasure.

The low rasp of his voice crawled across Aria’s skin, freezing her in place. Those blood-red eyes gleamed with dangerous irritation, making her stomach twist. At that moment, a pit opened in her chest, and she couldn’t help but think she might have bitten off far more than she could chew.

Her heart pounded—loud, frantic, echoing in her ears—as her gaze flicked to her crumpled clothes lying on the cold floor. Every fiber of her being screamed to reach for them, to cover herself, to run. But even as the instinct burned through her, she knew that one wrong move—one slip—would be her doom.

’He’s training me,’ she thought bitterly, clenching her jaw. ’He’s clearly training me as a pet!’

A sick, smoldering fury boiled just beneath her skin. If things kept going like this, she would be so full of fear that even the idea of resistance would feel like suicide. Her hands shook with fury and shame.

’Spawn of the devil himself,’ she cursed him silently, trembling as she forced her feet to move closer.

She stepped toward him, seething, and just as she was about to sit, her eyes dropped—and froze. Her breath caught in her throat, eyes widening with disbelief as her gaze fell on the very prominent bulge straining against his black pants.

Her heart slammed against her ribs. The shock was so sharp it dulled her anger for a split second, replacing it with stunned confusion and something that felt dangerously close to panic. She blinked rapidly, lips parting.

"What—" she began, her voice high and disoriented.

"...that can’t be yo—" the words stumbled out before dying in her throat.

"Why the hell are you—" she stopped herself, unable to finish the sentence. Her face turned crimson, hands still covering her chest as her entire body screamed to snatch up her clothes and hide. Her glare sharpened as she looked up at him.

Zyren’s lips curved, a hint of amusement dancing on them. "Isn’t it obvious?" he replied with maddening calm, his voice lightly teasing as his fingers tapped his lap—wordlessly demanding her obedience.

Aria’s stomach churned. She didn’t want to go. She didn’t want to be anywhere near him. If she had any choice, she would’ve run from the hall the second she left his lap.

But she didn’t have a choice.

Her limbs heavy with reluctance, she gingerly lowered herself onto the very edge of his left leg, careful to place most of her weight on her own feet. But before she could even settle, she felt herself lifted—her legs leaving the ground entirely as though she weighed nothing.

Startled, she instinctively reached for his shoulders for balance, only to find his eyes fixed—not on her face—but on her legs.

"Can you not—" she started, her voice strangled, cheeks burning with humiliation. Her entire upper body flushed crimson, a painful blend of shame and fury radiating off her skin.

"Can I not look at what belongs to me?" he asked, voice low and velvety, leaning in close. His hand tugged her subtly forward, making her hyper-aware of the hard bulge pressing up against her from beneath.

Aria stiffened, a jolt of disgust flashing through her, but she didn’t move. Not an inch. Her entire body locked as she returned his gaze with seething fury.

She knew it—every ounce of power she had left was hanging on a thread. He held the strings.

And the only way she was going to survive was if she played this game—his game.

Biting down the revulsion bubbling in her throat, she bowed her head, forcing herself into something that resembled submission. Her voice came out low and shaky, barely managing to hold together.

"Mas—master," she stammered, the word clawing its way out from behind gritted teeth.

"You promised not to force me!" she added quickly, louder than she meant to, her desperation slipping through.

The tension between them felt like a coiled spring. Her entire body buzzed with dread. If things kept escalating, he’d have no qualms about taking her—right here, right now. And she would rather die than let that happen.

At this point, she wasn’t clinging to life out of fear, but for vengeance. Revenge was all she had left. Her life had no value beyond that. She didn’t care about herself, or her body, or what was done to her—as long as she got the chance to kill him.

But instead of answering her, Zyren reached up, his fingers slipping into her hair. His gaze slid down to her chest again, blatantly, without shame.

"You seem to have a problem with showing skin," he murmured, his tone almost thoughtful. "That’s a big problem."

Her mouth opened to argue—to explain, to beg if she had to—but before a single word could escape, he snapped his fingers.

The sharp sound cut through the air like a whip, and instantly a guard appeared, dropping to one knee in front of the throne with his head bowed low.

"My King!"

"Get a human maid and a human guard. Bring them here," Zyren commanded, and Aria’s stomach dropped as her eyes widened.

The guard was gone in a blink, disappearing so fast her eyes couldn’t even track his movement. A moment later, she heard the massive doors of the hall slam shut, sealing them in again.

"Humans should make your stay more comfortable," he said, his voice like silk with a jagged edge. "You don’t like my kind."

His fingers still played with her hair—delicate and possessive—as if he owned every strand. Aria wanted nothing more than to wrench her head away, to scream, to bite his hand off. But she didn’t.

Not yet.

She had learned enough about him to know that the softer his voice, the darker his mood could turn.

They didn’t have to wait long.

The doors opened again with a low groan, and the guard returned, two figures trailing behind him—a woman with downcast eyes, and a man whose gaze roamed a bit too curiously around the room until he locked eyes with them.

Human. Brown-eyed. Young.

Aria’s arms crossed tighter around her chest as a fresh wave of shame hit her like a tidal wave. The moment the man’s eyes widened—taking in her position on Zyren’s lap, her nakedness—she opened her mouth, ready to beg for clothes if that’s what it would take.

But she didn’t get the chance.

Without warning, the man’s shadow slithered up from beneath him like a living serpent, wrapping around his neck and tightening like a noose.

His mouth opened in a silent scream, hands clawing desperately at the invisible force. He thrashed, his face paling rapidly as the air was crushed out of him. The horrible sound of bones snapping echoed across the hall, and then he dropped. Limply. Dead.

Aria stared in horror, unable to breathe. It had happened so fast—too fast to understand, too fast to even look away.

The maid dropped to her knees beside him, trembling violently as she pressed her forehead to the floor. She didn’t speak. She didn’t move.

Zyren didn’t even glance at the body.

"You looked uncomfortable," he said simply, as if it explained everything. As if a life snuffed out was no more troubling than flicking off dust.

Aria’s body locked, her mind still reeling—but her curiosity sparked despite herself. ’What was that?’ wondered how Zyren had killed him from such a distance without raising a finger.

As if sensing her thoughts, Zyren raised his hand lazily, and her breath caught as her own shadow began to move.

It slithered up her body like dark silk, wrapping around her thighs, crawling along her waist, sliding up her spine like ghostly fingers until it threaded itself into her hair. Aria’s eyes widened in disbelief, her entire body shivering.

"Pure blooded vampires have powerful bloodline abilities," he said casually.

And all Aria could do was internally curse him while also cursing every vampire that had ever existed. Cursing the fact that they were not only bloodthirsty monsters, but monsters with magic.

They were already hard to kill, and with what she had just seen, it made it almost impossible because she was human and powerless. ’Scourge of the earth,’ she cursed at him a hundred times in her mind.