The Vampire Prince's Blood Slave

A lamb to slaughter

The seasonal rains had left their mark on the land washing away the road just a few weeks ago had been perfectly smooth and passable. Now the carriage wheels wobbled from side to side as it traveled over muddy puddles that threatened to bog them down, and prolong the excruciating journey. Robin fidgeted feeling like she was sitting on pins and needles. She stared out the window watching the mist swirl around them concealing much of the gravel road that led to Castle Mori, the high seat of the Mowari dynasty, a family of wealthy vampires that lived in the secluded forest of the Kabi, just off the little village she’d called home for the past twenty two years of her life. Now it was going to be a distant memory she’ll have to console herself with as she was travelling on this very road for the last time.

Many of her people never ventured to the forest anymore afraid of what lay within - the creatures of the night that had eyes that burned with an ungodly hue and drank human blood. It was said that many centuries ago a dozen vampires appeared in the middle of the night. They terrorized human villages in and around the Kabi forest – they kidnapped young maidens, and gorged on their blood. Killing thousands in their rampage until a dozen maidens ventured deep into the forest to offer themselves as sacrifice for their people to be spared. And so a pact was formed that maidens will be offered to the vampires to appease the thirst of the beast, leaving the rest of the villagers in peace. Thus when the time came word was sent to the villages surrounding the Kabi forest and a maiden was chosen to serve as a blood slave for a vampire who was in need of one. This time it was the prince of vampires’ turn to choose.

Some saw it as an honour to be chosen. To some like Robin, she felt sick to her bones with fear. Chills ran up her spine as she thought of what awaited her there. She didn’t know what to expect. She wondered what the prince of vampires will be like. She was yet to see him or meet him. He hadn’t been there during the selection process. Robin’s mind went back to that very moment she and a few of the girls from the village had stood in an icy cold room waiting. Their eyes had cast about in fear, when five creatures wearing black robes that covered them from head to toe glided into the room as though they walked on air. They floated by standing in a single line to face them. A mask covered their faces. Only their eyes – white with a strange compelling glow were visible.

Robin had stood still not daring to breathe, as they prodded and inspected them one by one. The touch of their bony fingers on her skin had made her cringe, but she held on, daring not to move until it was over. And they sent them on their way.

Robin came back to the present cringing at the memory.

A far worse fate awaited her at castle Mori.

She was a blood slave now.

A nervous energy coursed through her as her mind supplied the kind of monster the prince would be. He as a vampire after all, and she was going to be his blood slave, a host for him to use.

What did that entail? She didn’t know. None of the selected maidens have ever come back to tell a tale. They all ended up at the castle.

Dead or alive, no one knew. Fear coiled around her like a very large snake.

“You do as he says and everything will be fine.” The prince’s messenger sitting across from her said. His voice washed over her fueling the fear she’d felt when the message had come that she had been selected. Robin trembled in her seat.

“You hear?” he asked turning towards her. There was an air about him that said he would rather be doing something else, than fetch the prince of Mowari’s blood slave. He stared back out the window watching the rolling hills as they left her home behind and plunged into the thick set trees of the forest. The canopy above them let in a stream of sun rays. They beamed from up above in thin strips that made it ideal for the vampires to roam in the shadows afforded by the long trees and large leaves. She watched the forest completely swallow the carriage.

And in that instant it was abundantly clear that she will never see her home again.

She didn’t dare look back for one last glance. She could feel the tears pressing at the back of her eyes. If she did look back and saw her mother standing on the front porch of their little house, there was no way she’ll be able to hold them back.

Robin nodded even though he couldn’t see her. She twisted her fingers in the folds of her dress. It pooled around her concealing every inch of skin from her neck to her toes. It was the traditional dress. Her mother had bought it when she turned eighteen in the hopes that her daughter would be selected. But when it didn’t happen she had packed it away. Time and the elements have had their way with it. Now the dress was out of style, and it was hot, the fabric heavy, making her skin feel clammy and itchy. Her mother had fussed over it for weeks patching holes, and scrubbing it clean until Robin thought her fingers would bleed. Memories of her mother’s proud face filtered through her mind. She closed her eyes tight. It was best she forgot about her now for she was no longer her mother’s daughter. She belonged to the prince of Mowari. She will serve him, and feed him for as long as she shall live, she thought. Her mind imagining the kind of life she will live as a blood slave.

The carriage wobbled on as Robin tried to make peace with her fate. She was so deep in thought that she didn’t realize that the wobbling had gotten worse until the door to the carriage was snatched open as something flew inside. The carriage wobbled dangerously as the horses spooked and the mud pulled at the wheels. A swirl of black filled the seat beside the prince’s messenger, taking shape. A horrendous sound, like the popping of bones followed, causing the horses to whine and rear onto their hind legs as they fought the reigns.

“Marek!” the prince’s messenger growled, holding onto the walls of the carriage to steady himself. Robin held on. And swallowed the scream that had formed in her throat as whatever had flew into the carriage turned into a man. He was dressed in all black, and he had the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.

“Oh relax, Keegan,” he said smoothly leaning back into the seat opposite Robin. His eyes crawled over her with an appreciative leer that looked too animalistic for Robin’s liking. She felt like he was the predator and she was the prey, which was the case.

“I tire of your antics,” Keegan said pulling at his clothes. He didn’t seem to notice Marek’s leering as he composed himself.

“Why be a vampire when I cannot enjoy any of the benefits.” He smirked at the man beside him. His eyes danced with mischief and mirth. He was enjoying Keegan’s discomfort too much.

“You can, just don’t do it at my expense.” Keegan grumbled.

“You know Keegan for a human you have such a disappointing disposition.”

Human? Robin turned to Keegan. No wonder he had been able to withstand the sun, when he had fetched her from the village. She hadn’t wondered much about him then because of her own emotional turmoil. Now that she looked at him she could see he didn’t possess the otherworldliness that was inherent in the few vampires she had seen or the power that exuded from their every pore.

Robin inspected him. A niggling thought puzzling her.

Why would a human involve himself with vampires?

“My disposition is not the problem…what are you doing here anyway?” Keegan gave Marek a questioning stare, “shouldn’t you be attending to other matters?”

“The Forxard is not a threat.”

“Your brother will beg to differ.” Keegan leaned close and whispered, “If they rise again, he’ll have no one to blame but you.”

“Let’s wait for that day, Keegan. Shall we?”

Marek turned away from Keegan with a self-satisfied smile. The back and forth of words seemed like an everyday occurrence between the two. Keegan huffed with indignation, but Marek didn’t seem to care. He was at ease with himself, and wasn’t fazed as he openly stared at Robin. “I heard my brother had finally caved and let the Gog to choose a blood slave for him. So I had to come down from my lofty barrier to see for myself.”

Keegan grunted. The sound vague.

“She’s a pretty one.” Marek leaned close. So close Robin could see the flecks of gold in his blue eyes. If not for the permanent leer on his face, she would have thought him handsome, but as it was Robin found him disturbing.

Marek reached out with his hand. His fingers almost touching Robin’s hair, “Flaming locks, porcelain skin. The Gog have outdone themselves, wouldn’t you say?”

He was mesmerised.

“Don’t leave your scent on her!” Keegan cautioned, his voice high pitched.

Marek winked at her. Robin’s heart stuttered. He was playing with the messenger, it was clear. But why?

Marek sat back with a sigh.

“Do you think my brother will keep this one?” Marek asked his stare still pinned on Robin. “Freshly woken vampires are not known for their control.”

“What the prince keeps or doesn’t keep is none of my business.” Keegan grunted shifting in his seat, “And should I advise you mind your own too.”

“Of course, Keegan, of course. I’m curious to see how this plays out. I think I’ll stay.”

Marek settled into his seat.

“And meeting your brother has nothing to do with it?”

Marek grumbled, but said nothing more.

Robin stared at the two men, well one was not a man but a vampire, her heart hammered in her chest as the wheels of the carriage pulled her to her fate.

Freshly woken? She wondered if she will survive the night.