The cellar was dark and dump, even cold for a vampire. His wounds had healed painfully slow. With a ragged breath, he had crawled around the void of darkness until he found a corner to lean on.
It was in the dark that the voices haunted him, as if the silence was meant to amplify them.
'No one's coming to save you.' The smirk on Brandon's face was unmistakable. Faces hovered in front of his blurry vision: Elena enjoying her time in the throne hall, his mother in some foreign land.
He expected to see more but those were the only two people who would even consider saving him in the first place.
He hated every bit of it. The thought of looking forward to being saved. He wasn't born to be saved, a fact he knew since he was a child. His mother was never present when he needed her the most. Why would she be his knight in shining armor now?
