Chapter 12: Chapter Twelve

"No. Absolutely not.” Briar said as Dagon Von Heller dragged in a human maid with him into the training room. The scent of blood was already getting to her and she could feel her fangs elongating. Dagon was the vampire from the Von Heller family that was sent to help with her blood weaving. He was tall, muscled with dark hair that had red streaks(another Von Heller trait).

“And why is that?” He drawled. “You're here to learn the art of bloodweaving. If there's no blood, how will you learn? Surely you were not hoping to practice on me.”

“She's still learning to control her bloodlust.” Tobias said on a stool nearby. He was here to learn too. Of course he was.

Dagon sighed, giving a little eye roll. “Come on, Tobias, you of all people should know. Young Vampires shouldn't be made to ‘control’ anything. Their bodies are still adapting so they need as much blood as necessary.” He gave Briar a critical look. “When was the last time you fed?”

Briar didn't know. It'd been maybe a day? Two days? She tried to avoid it as much as possible which was nearly impossible because this place was crawling with as many humans as there were vampires and the reek of blood was everywhere. God, she hated this place.

Her fangs were fully elongated now, aching with need. She whimpered softly. Briar tried to snap out of it but she couldn't focus on anything but the maid’s pale neck and racing pulse…

“You poor thing.” Dagon said in a condescending tone.

Come here and feed

Dagon's voice was heavy with compulsion and Briar found herself moving before her mind could catch up, her fangs sinking into the maid's throat, warm blood pooling in her mouth. A warm pleasurable feeling washed over her, the blood like honey to her tongue. She could vaguely register Dagon petting her head as she fed, whispering words of encouragement. By the time she was done, the maid dropped from her grip, lifeless. Briar was still in a haze as Dagon held her steady smirking at her. He wiped the blood on her lips with his finger, licking it.

She slowly came down from her high and the sight of the dead maid was a punch to the gut. Her first kill. Briar’s rule as a hunter was simple. Kill only supernatural beings, especially vampires. But not humans. Never humans. Her breathing grew heavier, coming in fast. She wanted to run, to hide, to erase this sickly image from her mind. Dagon held her in place as she struggled in his grip.

"Let me go!"She screamed.

“No, look.” He said holding her head so she couldn't look away. “This is who you are now, Vampire killer. You're one of us. You're a monster.The very thing you've always loathed. Either you accept it, or put a stake through your heart.”

She hated that he was right. Briar growled, wrenching herself from his grip. Dagon crossed his arms, looking down his nose at her.

“This is why I want nothing to do with the turned. They have such a twisted sense of morality. Tobias, get us another maid. This one's been drained.”

When Tobias arrived with another human, she was better in control of her emotions and ready to learn.

“Close your eyes.” Dagon began.

“Think of bloodweaving as making a piece of clothing. Imagine blood cells as individual threads. You're the weaver, free to manipulate the threads of life of any being. Every living thing needs blood which means you have the power of life and death in your hands,Briar. Everything yields to you. Do you see her threads?”

She could see it, in her minds eye. The different threads that made up the maid's soul, each a different colour. She nodded.

“Bloodweaving can have adverse effects on both the weaver and the one being weaved. You need to be strong enough to mete out harsh punishments without any consequence to your own self. I'll teach you that, but for now we'll take it slow.”

“Pick a thread, any thread and twist.”

Briar chose a shimmering thread in the maid's arm, flexed her fingers and imagined twisting it. The maid gave a pained cry and when she opened her eyes, the maid's arm was twisted at an unnatural angle.

“Incredible.” Dagon said, his eyes shining with something close to pride.

By the time the training was over, Briar felt exhausted even by supernatural standards. Dagon was a strict teacher, working her to the bone and not allowing her an ounce of rest. Bloodweaving itself, basically manipulating someone else's life force, was not an easy ability. Not to talk about the fact that it was killing her conscience using another human like that. She hated the way humans were treated in Kaelindor. Like they were fodder.

Briar tossed and turned in her bed. For all her tiredness, she couldn't sleep. Her mind kept drifting to a certain raven-haired vampire. She thought she was going crazy. Because why did his very presence make her stomach flutter and her undead heart beat?

Briar sat up abruptly as pleasure spiked through her suddenly. Her nipples peaked, goosebumps appearing on her skin. Heat pooled low in her gut and her pussy clenched. Hard. She whimpered, squeezing her thighs together trying to quell the pleasure but it was no use. What the fuck? She knew that Vampires were extremely sexual creatures but did they somehow get horny against their will? But even as she thought that, Briar already knew the real reason. Something she couldn't explain but was one hundred percent sure of.

Leaving her room, she went in the direction of Alaric's chambers, stumbling as her legs shook from pleasure. What the hell was Alaric even doing? She didn't even bother to knock, pushing the door open and barging in like she owned the place.

Only to see Alaric on his king-sized bed, cock in hand, stroking like his life depended on it.