017: POWERLESS

017: POWERLESS
Cassian swears he won’t fall asleep, but he doesn’t know when he gave in to the darkness in the coldness of Alastor’s arms that suddenly turned warm overnight.

He opens his eyes to the brightness of the morning sun and the sound of silent giggles. All forms of drowsiness vanish from his eyes too quickly. The thing he notices is the closeness of his body pressed to a hard chest and an arm tight around his waist, holding him in place, and then, he notices Ollie and the servants. 

Cassian’s eyes widen almost immediately, and he whips his head to find Alastor’s sleeping face, or he’s pretending to be asleep; Cassian has no idea, but he bolts out of the vampire’s hold.

He distances himself from Alastor on the bed, wrapping himself with the sheets even though he is fully clothed, as shame burns into his being. “W-what are you doing here?” his voice wavers as he looks at the servants, who are trying to suppress their giggles as they stare at the floor.

Ollie bows lowly. “Good morning, Master Cassian. We are here to attend to your needs.”

“Get out,” Cassian snaps, voice raw.

Oille raises a brow. “My lord—”

“Out,” Cassian repeats, louder now, pointing at the door with a shaking hand.

They glance at each other, and in the next moment, they are leaving, shutting the door behind them, and Cassian feels like he can breathe again, but the horror is far from over as Alastor’s deep voice vibrates through his eardrums.

“Sleep well?”

Cassian visibly flinches as he whips his head to look at Alastor; the vampire lord wears a slow smile, as if he didn’t force the poor human to sleep in his cold embrace all night.

Cassian wants to throw something or strangle someone, but he swallows the lump in his throat and says instead. “When are you going to leave?”

Alastor doesn’t answer right away as he shifts on the bed, stretching slowly like a predator that knows its prey can’t go far. The blanket slides off his waist, and Cassian immediately jerks his gaze away from that perfect body.

“Relax,” Alastor says lazily. “I’m not touching you.”

“That’s not comforting,” Cassian snaps.

Alastor chuckles, lowly. “It should be. You survived the night,” he smirks with a mischievous gaze, and then he gets off the bed and picks up his discarded shirt, taking his time to button his shirt while Cassian looks at anything but him. 

Alasstor smirks at the reaction. ”You were simply a test to see my resistance to human blood being so close.”

Cassian snaps his head so fast there’s almost a crack. “You were using me?”

Alastor meets his blue eyes and sneers. “You should feel honored, petal. My urge to keep you as a pet was stronger than my urge to drain every drop of blood out of you.” He smiles at him, and then he continues. “Get dressed and prepare for breakfast.”

Without another word, he’s leaving, shutting the door behind him, and as soon as he’s gone, Cassian grabs the nearest pillows and throws them at the door, biting back a frustrated scream.

Damn the gods. He hates Alastor with every fiber of his being, and nothing is going to change that.

~~

Cassian doesn't need to have supernatural senses to hear the rumors flying around of how he was in Alastor’s arms, of how he had the vampire’s love and affection.

“Did you see them this morning—”
“…in the same bed…”
“…Lord Alastor finally marked him…”
Cassian’s stomach twists as those words fill the air.

Even Oscar gave him a thumbs-up when no one was looking.

Cassian pretends not to hear the murmurs of the servants. Still, even at the breakfast table, they won’t stop, especially the eyes of the duchess that follow his every movement as she sits at the edge of the dinner table. At the same time, the rest of Lancaster’s household occupies the other seats; they also watch him as if he had done something wrong.

He hates the attention; it makes his skin crawl; it makes him feel like his secret is going to be exposed any moment now. Even the steak on his plate is starting to feel tasteless on his tongue.

The dinner table is quiet, but the hall isn't, and a sudden crash breaks that silence on the floor as broken glass flies. Everyone whips their head to the servant who stands over the mess, fear in her eyes as she looks at no one but the duchess, who looks like she could strike someone dead with her gaze.

In an instant, the maid is on her knees, begging for her life. “Please… don’t punish me; I’m sorry,” she cries, but the Duchess's eyes don’t soften even for a moment; they harden even more.

“Someone,” she orders, and the guards are on alert, grabbing the weeping maid by both arms and yanking her to her feet. “Take her to the dungeon and make sure she learns her lesson,” she finishes.

“Please, I’m sorry!” the maid wails, growing ever louder.

The Lancaster mansion has a dungeon. Those are the only words Cassian catches before he intervenes. “Wait,” he stops the guards, his brain failing to catch up with his mouth. “It was an accident; you don’t have to punish her by taking her to the dungeons.”

In an instant, cold silence falls in the room, and it seems like everyone is holding their breath, as if waiting for the worst to happen.

“Are you questioning my judgment?” The duchess’s voice comes out cold and authoritative.

Cassian feels every pair of eyes snap to him.

“No,” he says, keeping his voice steady. “I’m saying it was a mistake; she doesn't deserve to be dragged to the dungeon to be flogged or whatever punishment you have in store for her.”

“You forget your place. You do not give orders here, and sharing a bed with Alastor doesn't give you the right to. I’m in charge, and my word is law.”

Cassian’s jaw pulls taut as he glares at the sorry excuse of a duchess. He shouldn't speak for a vampire, but a simple accident should warrant a punishment. “I believe as Lord Alastor’s mate, it is my duty to oversee the affairs of the household; you said it yourself. I won’t watch a servant be punished for making a mistake.”

The silence that follows his words is loud; everyone stares at him in horror and sheer shock.

“You do not speak to grandmother like that!” Clarissa chimes in, but the Duchess raises her hand to shut her up.

“I see you believe your opinion outweighs mine?” The woman slowly rises to her feet, and for the first time, Cassian notices the commanding aura around her that makes the servants lower their heads in submission. “You are right; as Alastor’s mate, it is your duty to oversee the affairs of the household, and since you wish to be in charge so badly, I am willing to return such authority to you, but we will have another agreement. Once you bear Alastor’s mating mark, you will have all the power. Until then, you will remain in my shadow and continue to be the little pet that you are,” she finalizes, and then she leaves the table after throwing Cassian one last glare, and to show that Cassian’s words hold no power, the maid is dragged to be punished.

Cassian wants to put the old nag in her place.

Sleeping in his bed and arms isn't enough; now he has to bear his mark? Cassian scoffs. He is human; how can his human body bear the mark of a pureblood vampire? That’s a death wish, and Cassian doesn't have one yet, but he will get power and authority somehow, one way or the other.