Page 102 of Plug and Drain

“Thanks,” she said, and had soon changed into her most comfortable set of soft flannel pyjamas.

As the pack settled down to continue listening to Harry’s story, Susie sat wrapped in a blanket on a weathered sofa. Her plume-like tail was curled around her, and she’d freed her ears from her plaits in a rare display.

They twitched at the rise and fall of Harry’s dramatic voice as he wove a suspenseful tale, but she was only half paying attention as she wondered what tomorrow would bring.

Had she just invited Arken’s wrath down upon them?

Chapter 25

Rejected

Arken

After Susie left the dark classroom, Arken remained standing as rigid as a statue for a long time. When he did finally move, it was only to sink down into a low crouch and hover there uncertainly for minutes on end, until his legs ached.

There was nowhere he wanted to go. Moving to any other location would not change the oppressive nothingness pressing in on him from every direction. Being anywhere else would not make him feel any more worthy of affection or bring back the brief optimism that had excited his being and poured life back into him for one fleeting day.

By Susie’s appraisal, he had been measured and found wanting. He was sure his overconfidence reflected poorly on him. He had been certain she would accept his offer and had not even considered the possibility that she might refuse. It left him feeling…empty.

Perhaps that was why so few vampires presented it as an offer.

He was keenly aware, and he knew Susie was too, that not all vampires gave the wolf they’d set their sights on any choice in the matter. When they did, it was usually because the wolf had the protection of a pack. Sometimes, a vampire would instigate a claim anyway, even knowing it would be perceived as a challenge by the pack. Fights were infrequent but not unheard of.

Occasionally, the vampire lost. The number of wolves simply outnumbered the vampires, both within the academy walls and outside of it. It didn’t help that despite their lethality, vampires almost always fought alone, and functioned poorly in groups without rigorous training. Vampires were ‘lone wolves’ by nature, a term most vampires hated for its unflattering comparison to what was considered to be the lesser race.

King Henrikk was very much aware of these problems: the dwindling number of vampires, and the natural cohesiveness of wolves.

Henrikk was a persuasive leader and masterful strategist, with a talent for exploiting the weaknesses of others. Surprisingly, he was also able to unite people, when he felt so inclined. His ability to unite an army of vampires and train them to fight as an efficient unit was a large part of why he’d been able to rise to power. He had rapidly and mercilessly exterminated the witches, overthrown Vampire King Dmitri, and eliminated the royal wolfen bloodline.

In Arken’s opinion, killing all the witches—which were Henrikk’s only source of magic and the reason he’d been able to create made vampires for his army—had been a slight oversight. As far as Henrikk knew, there wasn’t a single witch left in existence, and his son Nathaniel had slaughtered the last one.

What would Henrikk do if he discovered that his son was hoarding a manor full of witches and wizards? Would he keep a few alive and utilise them for their powers to raise more soldiers? Or would he kill them all in his quest for control? Arken was tempted to hand the witches over to him just to find out.

In any case, he was quite sure that the silliest ones had been left alive to torment him. Although, given the witches’ strong opinions on their imprisonment, he knew they felt the same way about him when he paid them a visit to feed.

The witches were held in a derelict manor house, which Nathaniel endearingly referred to as a ‘containment facility’.

Arken had intended to inspect the prisoners again tonight, but he’d been counting on Susie’s acceptance of his offer to make the trip possible. Not that he planned to tell her about what he did with the witches, but the entire process would have been smoother knowing Susie was waiting for him in his room—potentially, in his bed.

He laughed derisively under his breath as he swayed where he crouched, letting the muscles of his legs burn with dull pain.

Oh, Arken, you fool.

A Master and pet dynamic had seemed neat in his mind. The perfect solution to fulfilling his promise to Nathaniel as well as his heart’s desire.

The thought of letting Nathaniel down stabbed guilt into him.

The Prince would not be pleased once he realised that Arken had missed a feeding. Fortunately, there was still time to source an alternative to Susie. Besides, Nathaniel wouldn’t notice straight away—he was no doubt preoccupied with the new pet he’d left to retrieve early that morning.

Nathaniel was counting on him.

And in a way, Arken was counting on himself as well. To do something that mattered, even if the task brought him no pleasure.

Even if it meant he’d have to find another wolf to feed on besides Susie.

Arken sighed and forced himself to stand. His nails dug into the rough stone wall for support. Blood flow returned to his feet as he rose, and he grimaced as pins and needles erupted all along the soles of his feet. The sensation was both excruciating and ticklish, and he couldn’t take a single step as the cramped nerves resumed functioning and shot pain signals to his brain. It took a few minutes for the feeling to pass, and although he was a patient man, he found it altogether ridiculous; he was exceptionally strong, more so than the average vampire, and could have shifted one of the ancient, mortared stones with his bare hands if he so willed it. And yet, he was temporarily rooted to the spot by something as harmless as pins and needles.

Weaknesses present themselves in unusual ways.