Naina hadn't allowed Elana to sleep on the bed. She'd claimed the bed was too small and could only fit her and Israel.
The bed was huge, though Elana couldn't see, so she had no choice but to pick a hard spot on the ground.
Naina didn't even offer her a blanket.
It was supposed to be morning, but the air outside still maintained its grayish hue.
Elana's body felt stiff, her bones ached as she stretched.
She was awake simply because her body had grown used to rising early—back when she had chores to attend to. Only then had there been other servants to share the load.
Today, she decided, she would plead with the master of the fortress. She hoped the door wasn't locked.
Moving carefully, her hands feeling along the walls as she searched for the bathroom, she could still hear the soft breathing of both Naina and Israel. Poor kids. They'd been through so much.
Elana finally reached the bathroom and took her bath, gasping when she realized it was her time of the month.
Not now, she sighed. Not in this situation.
**
Azael watched as one of his minions approached, trembling as it did.
"Master," the creature said, voice shaky. "Shall we prepare a feast for the visitors today?"
"Feast?" Azael's tone was lethal. "Whoever said I should share the feast with you minions?"
The minion's eyes widened, then dropped. It backed away quickly, knowing better than to challenge him. Azael smirked—bloody fool.
Then his nose caught a whiff of something, familiar, strong.
Pure, Innocent blood, spilling its fragrance from the room where the trespassers slept.
The minions shifted uncomfortably, recognizing the scent too.
Was one of the children bleeding?
He listened—Elana's voice reached his ears, soft now, no longer edged with defiance.
Could it be that she was the one this scent was coming from?
"Go and scout for human foods," he commanded, "or make them."
The minions exchanged puzzled looks but obeyed.
Azael vanished, reappearing above the corridor. From his monochrome vision, he spotted her—Elana—just a few feet away from the room.
She was tracing the walls with her hands.
The scent was definitely hers. She seemed to be in pain.
Injured?
His gaze swept over her form. Taken a little aback when he realized where the blood was coming from.
It was purity itself, untasted, untouched—a virgin.
Elana stopped suddenly, as if sensing his presence. Impossible, he thought. He hadn't revealed himself. How could she have felt him?
Her voice trembled, "H..Hello, good sir. I…" she hissed and clutched her abdomen. Her unease showed through every moment.
Azael gritted his teeth. He shouldn't care. He was supposed to be a cold, ruthless vampire.
This whole situation was pushing him out of character.
He appeared before her, and her eyes widened, brows furrowed, expression desperate.
"Please, sir." She said softly. "Tamper Justice with mercy. We mean no harm—my siblings and I. We only lost our way on the path to refuge. It wasn't our intention to trespass in your lair."
Azael felt his fangs ache, controlling himself not to give in to the temptation of draining the appetizing blood from her body where she stood.
Even in her weakened state, she pleaded not for herself but for others.
"S..Sir," her fragile voice called again as she reached forward, trying to find him.
Azael stood still as her palm brushed against his chest, soft, searching.
Elana paused, then winced as another wave of pain struck.
He sighed quietly and gathered her into his arms before she could fall, ignoring the look of surprise that flickered across her face.
**
Elana held onto the strange man who carried her. She was sure he was the one from before—it was the woody scent she remembered.
Where was he taking her? Away from Naina and Israel so that he could harm them.
She wouldn't let him; she flailed her arms and legs at him.
An irritated grunt rumbled from his chest, "Oh, would you stop that? You're testing my patience."
"Let go of me!" She said desperately. "You're trying to take me away from the children. I won't let you. Drop me this instant!"
"As ungrateful as your kind," he muttered, not flinching from her movements, his body stiff as rock. "You seem to be in pain…in a unique condition. You need a place to care for you."
Elana froze. Her hands instinctively rose, finding his face—cold as carved stone. Then she leaned up, brushing his cheek with her lips.
He stopped moving. She saw the sudden tension and immediately feared she had angered him.
"My m..master," she whispered, "he made it compulsory that I kiss any male's cheek that cares for me voluntarily."
Her voice trembled.
"He said it's a sign of respect—especially from the disabled."
His arms loosened slightly from her explanation.
"Don't you dare do that," his tone turned lethal, "ever again."
Elana folded inward, embarrassed. She'd always found the act strange, even her master, but she had shoved that discomfort deep down.
Now shame flushed through her.
She pressed into his chest as though his body could hide from her embarrassment.
"I'm dropping you," he muttered, lowering her to the ground. Soft earth and grasses cushioned her feet.
The air had changed—fragrant with Dandelions as if the fortress dared to soften.
"Oh sweet hellseyes!" A shrill, aged voice gasped from ahead.
With the sweet scent of Dandelions teasing her senses, the air here felt gentler, almost soothing.
"Where did you get this striking creature. Azael." The voice asked.
Azael
"She appears to be in pain," he sighed, his breath from behind giving her goosebumps, "I need you to soothe her condition."
Elana felt cool, soft, small hands take hers.
"Oh dear, Azael," the voice cooed, now close enough that Elana could feel her presence beneath her face.
She was now certain that Azael was the man who had carried her, the master of the castle.
"Such beauty and curse," the voice continued, "Oh my poor child. Being human is such a hassle."
The statement made Elana freeze. What did she mean by that?
Her curious lips opened, "What do you..?"
"Well, it seemed a little bit of your heart is finally thawing, Azael." The lady cut her off, voice lilting and mocking.
"Trisha, Trisha," Azael said, his voice becoming distant. "You and your delusions."
Elana turned toward where she thought she was and called after him.
"Thank you. Master Azael. Please, my siblings—they'll be scared if they don't see me when they awake!"
He growled back, "I'm no errand boy, woman."
Trisha burst out laughing, a sweet, melodic sound that teased the insides of Elana's soul.
Even if they weren't human, Trisha had to be a fairy.
"Come now, child." The soft hand guided Elana toward a bed.
Trisha was lively and lovely, gentle as she offered Elana a comfortable amount of cotton for her condition.
Elana laughed genuinely. She now understood why the air around Trisha seemed to radiate.
Indeed, a fairy.
She didn't need sight to enjoy this company.
"Oh, child," Trisha laughed, "I missed having someone around who genuinely laughs at my jokes."
"Oh, my little brother would absolutely love you. He's such a sweetheart," Elana's voice dipped in sadness, "and my sister too. I'm sure you can cheer her up—she gets so grumpy sometimes."
"You mean most times," Trisha cut in.
Elana froze. Trisha chuckled. "I don't need to be able to read minds to know Naina isn't your favorite."
Elana wilted, gaze lowering. "I just wonder why she's so mean most times. I've tried everything to be her friend and a big sister, but she absolutely hates me."
No response.
"I..I'm sorry…" Elana whispered.
"Don't apologize, child. You're quite special." Trisha said softly. "You shouldn't blame yourself for how people treat you. There will always be those who treat you better."
Elana sighed. "Well, I'm sure if I introduce you to her—and you make her laugh—she might loosen up a little. I always felt her friends were the ones preventing her from liking me. A person like you would not say such things to her."
No response again.
"Trisha?" Elana called out.
Trisha cleared her throat and laughed nervously, her tone slightly strained. "I think you should have breakfast now. Your tummy's protesting."
Elana smiled.
**