Chapter 437: Mythic Immortals 5
"I do not wish to know," Nedra shook her head, giving up on trying to convince this male that Zagan was not her mate.
It didn’t matter whether he believed it or not anyway. He would not spare her regardless. He had killed poor Brandt, he had likely killed Emmett since he spoke of seeing the greenhouse, and it was possible that he would not cease his destruction until he eliminated every other individual on this island unless she was somehow able to prevent it.
Thank the Goddess the whole containment facility of alyko were spared. If there were a divine plan in all of this, that was the one indication. So many alyko could have been eliminated, but they were spared. They were safe.
But how was Nedra going to stop him? Her fingers twitched with the possibilities as they sped through her mind.
This male’s energy signature in the Veiled was distinctly vampiric. There was no indication that he was fae. He was a black hole, dispersing every particle of energy around him just like Zagan. His purpose was to consume. It was his nature.
Fae, on the other hand, were beings of creation and light. They were giving. They birthed things with the energy around them. Should Nedra ever see one, they would likely be an inverse of vampires. Where one was a black hole, the other, she could only imagine, was the sun.
So, other than his ego, what was this creature’s weakness? How was he even able to exist? He may be part fae, but the dominant part of his being was obviously vampiric in nature. Maybe she could find a glimmer of that fae light inside of him and flood it with more of itself. Maybe...
"Hey," he snapped, jolting her from her thoughts. "You are not listening."
"I do not wish to know," she repeated.
"It is your treat. You will know," he insisted. "Everyone gets a treat before they die. Am I not kind? It is like a mother sending her children to bed with milk and cookies."
"You consider yourself a mother?" She grimaced. What a strange analogy. A mother was meant to be nurturing, supporting the lives of her offspring and helping them to flourish. He was quite the opposite of that.
"Yes, and you will have your cookie," he grinned. "It is too bad though that you will never know the joys of being such a mother. I can tell he has not impregnated you yet," he added, narrowing his eyes on the area of her womb where there was no discernible second heartbeat.
It was an odd characteristic of young vampires and vampires that were in the womb. They were birthed with a heart before reaching their full adult size at which point the infant heart ceased to beat.
"Which means the happy couple has not yet mated, am I correct? Vampire fetuses progress rather quickly," he smirked.
Nedra was fuming over his assumptions. How dare he compare himself to a mother. How dare he act like he knew anything about what being a mother was. And how dare he assume that he knew anything at all about her.
"You are the furthest thing I have ever seen from a true fae," she spit, fury rolling off of her. She had lost the ability to stop it. "And you are the furthest thing I have ever seen from a mother."
"How would you know?" He asked, his head tilting to the side in amused curiosity. He had touched a sore spot. He loved sore spots.
"You must care for Zagan deeply. You are clearly so upset by the thought of not getting a chance to mate with him. I imagine your children would be beautiful," he said, walking toward her with his dress shoes clicking against the stone floor of the kitchen.
He licked his thumb and forefinger, creating a new film of blood there before grabbing her by the jaw and tilting her head so that it was angled up toward him. Nedra glared at him, trying to jerk out of his hold, but he held her there with the red smears of Brandt’s blood painting themselves on either side of her face.
"Be grateful that you can die, my dear," he said in that threatening tone that she had heard him use earlier. "Now listen to my story and accept your cookie before bed. Because either you will let me describe to you in detail the unique way that my blood will torture your mate or," he paused, painfully repositioning his hold on her jaw when she once again tried to jerk free, "or I will torture you before bed. Which will it be?"
Nedra tried to maintain a straight face, not wishing to allow him any satisfaction of seeing her fear, but his grip kept tightening and she raised both of her hands to grasp his forearm, whimpering with the pressure that he was putting on her jaw bone. He was going to break it. She could see the bloodlust in his eyes as he finally caught a whiff of the fear he had been seeking, and she just knew he was a moment away from crushing her jaw in his hand.
His lips curled back over his fangs, and then he shoved her away. "You can barely withstand even that," he smirked. "I fear torturing you would be rather boring in comparison."
Nedra glared at him, raising a hand to cradle her jaw and moving it around to relieve the soreness that he had caused. He was a maniac.
"Are you prepared to listen? Or shall we proceed with the boring torture?" He asked, extending his hands in question before folding them patiently behind his back.
She nodded, continuing to rub her jaw.
"Do not be dramatic. I did not break your jaw, because I did not wish to impede your ability to speak. Your conversation so far is the most interesting thing about you. So speak," he demanded.
