41. Caspian

Her voice is a fucking melody. I hate it. Despise it.

Crave it. Like a thread or a lifeline, I can grip it tight. Drag myself along this desolate landscape and find some semblance of clarity again.

Or not.

If I resist her, I could stay here forever in the quiet, far from Cassius or any other probing mind. Here, no one can ever own me again.

No one but her.

"...inception after the vamryre were all but wiped out," she says. "Only three of their ‘pure' lineage remained. Cassius, Nataniel and Pol. By that time the fae had also been decimated with just twelve houses remaining…"

She speaks on and on, painting words into the air. Creating magic with that gentle voice. I could spend an eternity listening to her.

Never again would I have to go back and crawl into that ruined shell of a mind.

Never again.

"...hybrids."

Something is wrong. Pain laces that voice, dulling the beautiful song. Some part of me prefers it—her pain. It's so damn sweet to these evil, rotten ears.

Then, she continues to speak. The pain gets sharper. The hungry creature in my skull dies down. Although her pain is beautiful, it does not belong. Not here. Not now.

"Hybrids are rare creatures known for the unique properties of their blood, for it transcends the power imbued in any other race. A single drop of hybrid blood can transform the mind of even vamryre. The affected creature is then bound to the will of the monster who tempted it…"

She trails off and another part of me rails. Rages.

I want that voice. I need it.

To find my way out of this empty, useless skull, I need to hear it.

Hear her.