Chapter 3 Chapter Three

Valerius’ POV

I plunged the knife deeper into my chest, and I twisted and twisted again, pushing the blade deeper.

I expected pain and expected death. Yet again for the billionth time, I got nothing. Not pain, not death. Just the usual silence that my life had been for centuries now.

Perhaps walking under the sun was my quickest move to death. But I couldn't bring myself to do that. I have seen such death happen time and time over to friends and foes, and not one has ever been pleasant.

But what does it matter what kind of death I died? Death was death.

I pushed the knife deeper, hunting for that click of pain that would signal death, when suddenly a loud crashing noise seized the room.

Boots scraped the ground, voices hushed to whispers by the distance, and grunts stealing into the silence of the castle.

Intruders. I grunted, my lips curling with displeasure as I traced out of the bedroom.

I thought I had warned the villagers to leave me alone. They had done so for hundreds of years now, so why suddenly break the deal? Why risk my wrath over some stupid adventure into my castle?

I landed into the moonlight from the opened window.

The intruders pressed themselves against the wall, their backs to me. Usually, the thirst for their blood would consume me, rile up a burning hunger in me, and make me despise my existence once more. But I felt nothing. It was still that dull silence in my soul, that emptiness that I could never quite fill.

That told me one thing. They weren't humans.

The male turned when he smelled me, sword thrust in my direction, while he pressed the female to the wall with his other hand.

My blood rippled with fury. How dare he point a sword at me in my own home?

I stepped forward, baring my fangs. “What are you? And what are you doing in my home?”

“Get back, vampire. I just chased the demon in here. We will leave soon, and you will have your hole to yourself.”

“Demon,” I repeated, alert, temporarily excusing my rage toward him. “Are you saying she is a demon?”

“He is lying. I am not one, Vampire?” The female rasped, sneaking her head past the male's broad shoulders so I could see her. “I am just a helpless girl whom he wants to take advantage of. Why don't you help take him off me?” She said, feigning sorrow.

I have lived a thousand years and read emotions well. She was lying.

I shifted so I could study her. My gaze lingered on her curves and the long legs sticking from her bloodied dress for a moment before I snatched it to where it truly mattered—her eyes.

They weren't quiet and soft like most humans. They were heavy with character, tough, and experienced. Yeah. I growled mildly. She was indeed a demon.

“And if she is a demon. Then you are a demon hunter.” I directed at the male.

He scoffed elaborately. “I don't put a tag on it, because I don't focus on demons alone. My work covers vampires. I specialize in ridding the world of evil and filth.”

The wind tugged at his face, and it lifted the lock of hair hiding his right eye. I didn't need to see much, just the slit, crimson pupils, and I could already tell what he was. “But you are a demon as well. Half demon, half human, if I should judge from the duplicity of your eyes.” I asked.

The female narrowed her gaze at the male, studying him carefully.

He whipped his head to the side to have his hair hide his right eye from her again.

She growled. “Yeah. You are a demon too.” She growled, teeth jamming with fury as she spoke. “The classic case of the kettle calling the pot black.”

“At least I don't kill.” He retorted. She protested against his grip, and he pushed her harder against the wall. She gasped with pain.

I could have watched them for longer, but I had no use for drama. I craved another type of entertainment.

I stepped closer, and they both turned their heads completely to me, following each throw of my legs to them.

“Judging by your nature, I guess both of you are strong enough for the job I need you for.”

“Which is?” The female asked.

“To kill me,” I said casually.

Both of them watched me for a minute, with the same look they would give a mad person rambling nonsense.

Then the male glanced down at my chest. Perhaps he got the idea, and perhaps he didn't; he just scoffed. “As much as I would love to kill you, I am currently busy. I’ll attend to your neck when I am done with hers.”

“Well, I wasn't necessarily asking. And besides, I need both of you for the job.” I said, and I charged fast at both of them.

The male swung his sword to keep me back. But I walked right into it. A man craving death doesn't fear weapons.

His sword missed my neck as I shifted from it, and I aimed my claw for his. He shifted from my claws, and that forced him back from the female.

I turned to her now, since she was nearer. She swung her head loose from my first strike, my claws digging into the wall behind her, unearthing stone and dust.

At the third strike, I caught her neck in my fingers, and I pinned her to the wall.

I grunted with displeasure at how easy it had been. “You aren't up to the task. You are weak,” I growled softly in my disgust.

She struggled against my grip, her eyes darkening with fury. “I am not weak, bastard.” She barked at me.

I should have seen the knee coming, but my gaze had been centered on her face.

The force slammed into my groin and knocked me back. But I was so used to pain. I straightened immediately, lunging for her neck again.

I stopped when a force knocked me back. I staggered. When I glanced down, I didn't find her hand on me, nor did I find the male’s.

The force had come from within me. I froze as I glanced down at my chest, a sudden pain suddenly crowding the area of my heart where the knife was still stuck.

I watched the knife heave, just as the first air in my entire existence knocked off my throat.

I pulled away the knife and doubled over, gasping from pain and relief and from the excitement of finding her after centuries of loneliness.

I pressed a hand to my chest to keep back the blood leaking from the knife wound. And I leaned up to her, my lips breaking into a smile. “Bride,” I whispered. “My bride.”

Her lips parted for a counter but closed back when she spotted my beating chest.

A vampire couldn't have a beating heart, as we are undead. Our hearts can only beat again when we are blooded, made to feel again by our eternal brides. The women we were fated to for eternity. The very woman I had waited centuries for.

She screamed, voice shrill, face tight with horror. “It is impossible. I was once a goddess. I cannot be fated to a male. I cannot—”

“It isn't impossible, bride.” I smiled. I reached for her, and she dropped away from me. That steered her into my other hand, and I snatched her by the waist, tracing her to another wall and trapping her to it with my body.

I grabbed her thigh, sneaking my hand below her dress, until my palm closed on the expanse of smooth, silky skin.

Desire shot through me as I held her and felt her warm body quiver to my touch. I could almost spend in my briefs. It was so heavenly. I grated a growl of satisfaction.

“Let me go, Vampire,” she shrieked, trying to push me away.

But I held on tighter, trapping her petite body firmer to mine. I had waited centuries for her. I wasn't letting go so easily, not since my very prayers for centuries had just been answered before me.

“I am not letting go, demon. Because you are mine, my bride.”

“I don't give a damn what's going on here. But I believe you have something that mine, my prisoner,” the male demon called from behind me.

It hurt to drop my bride. But I turned sharply, flexing my arms, so my claws shot out of my fingers. I bared my fangs.

“She is mine, and if you want to get her, then you would have to kill me first,” I growled.

The demon drew his sword and dropped into a fighting stance. “That's about fine with me.” He brushed me a grin.