I finally was able to spend a weekend writing. Refreshing and exhausting at the same time.
Today, I'd like share a snippet from Caressed by the Edge of Darkness (Rulers of Darkness #5).
~ The rancid stench of chard flesh thickened the stale dungeon air. Blood stained the cold stone floor. A faint heart beat and the rasp of shallow breaths whispered through the darkness. There were no whimpering sighs or screams for help. The word mercy had no meaning in a Hell such as this.
Hate, so pure, so true, so strong, electrified the air, it snapped and sizzled like lightning.
Chains scrapped the ground, sloshing through puddles of fresh blood and putrid filth.
The slave was on his knees, his shoulders squared, his head never bowing. His chest slowly rose and fell as he defiantly met the blond stranger’s stare. There was no fear in the slave's crystalline green eyes, only lethal determination. His chin tilted up in challenge while crimson rivulets snaked down his bare chest, back, and arms. Droplets of blood elegantly cascaded from his fingertips. Welts scored his torso, long slashes crossed over his shoulders. Dark bruises covered the raw flesh of his neck and trailed down his spine. His skin still smoldered from his recent torture. Tendrils of heat rose from the wounds. Steam danced as his flesh continued to burn and blacken. Yet, he showed no signs of pain or weakness.
“Such defiance,” the blond vampire whispered. “Remarkable.”
The slave’s cracked and bleeding lips pealed back, revealing his fangs.
The blond male stepped closer to the cell. He extended an arm through the bars, holding out his hand. “My name is Dimitri Arsov.”
Ignoring the vampire, the slave lumbered to his feet. His chains rattled and rasped against the bloody, gnarled flesh of his wrists. His bones ached and every muscle in his body screamed in protest as he straightened, tearing his newly healed skin.
Dimitri dropped his hand and smiled. Amusement touched his diamond blue eyes. “Your spirit is admirable.”
Turning his back on the intruder, he stalked to his bed of dirt and blood stained hay. He’d never shown weakness to anyone, not even when he was mortal. To be weak was to be prey and he refused to be prey.
His lips twisted. It had been his pride and strength that attracted Mistress Sideth. She took immense pleasure in trying to break him, using every tactic: torture, starvation, rape. She’d turned him into a vampire, making him her “permanent pet.” His body trembled with rage as images of that cursed night flashed through his mind. The Mistress loved her defiant slave and wouldn’t allow mortality to steal him away.
The sounds of the celebration taking place above grated his nerves. Hours ago, the cell beside him had been crowded with fresh humans captured for the Moon Festival. He hadn't bothered acknowledging their presence. He knew none would return. They’d be used, fucked and bled to death, like all the others that had come before.
"If I'm feeling generous, I'll leave one alive for you to drain," the Mistress had said as the humans were led away. "I can see the blood lust in your eyes." She placed a kiss on his brow as she pressed the tip of the torch to his chest. "Your fangs must ache."
Her taunt added to his fettered anger, which simmered just below the surface. His demon ready to break free any moment.
Soon. He'd have his revenge.
Glancing over his shoulder, he studied the stranger. Friend or foe? Did it matter?
“I’m not a guest. Lady Ingrid, who I believe is known to you as Mistress Sideth, is no ally of mine,” Dimitri said.
The slave's eyes narrowed. He’d heard of vampires powerful enough read minds. Did this male have the gift? Power radiated from him.
“Why are you here?”
“Your situation has only just been revealed to me. If I had known, I would have…” Dimitri’s words faded and he shook his head. “I have come to help you, Gabriel.”~