Willing (The Un 1)

The pain is less now, but the anger and hurt that’s not physical still remains. It’s the violation and humiliation of it. I’m not a natural-born vampire. I was turned when I was an adult, not born to a vampire man and woman.

I know of violation, the feeling of having zero control over my fate…

But this is so much worse.

Tears leak down my cheeks as an unfamiliar humiliation seeps into my very pores, and I can’t stop them. Nothing has truly happened to me, nothing I or anyone else around me can see, but there’s an old throbbing ache inside me. Like what I’m experiencing is a process that’s been done time and time again.

Suddenly the awareness of my very essence being raped stops, and the knowledge that I’m still Asher and not a victim brings a flood of relief.

It wasn’t me being tortured… It wasn’t me who was being violated…

It was Chloe.

Rage like no other surges through my veins, and a red haze appears in front of my eyes as I push myself up, off the floor, tossing Raphael and Andrei into the walls of the plane.

The plane wobbles as if we hit turbulence.

“I’ll kill every single motherfucker in the Order. I’ll gut them and bathe my body in their fucking entrails,” I spit out to the open air.

Whatever they were doing was a violation to my beloved, my soul mate.

And they’ll fucking pay for it in blood and carnage.

Matthias tries to settle me, but I can’t stop myself from slamming my fist into his calming features.

Grabbing him by the throat, I let loose all the hatred and fears I feel in a roar.

Men from all sides tackle me to the ground again. Each trying to weigh me down as my bloodrage burns with a fury that can only be brought on by the cuntsores in the Benedict Order.

Raph appears in front of me, and I snap my fangs in his face. “Calm the fuck down, Asher. We don’t want to drain your ass!”

If there wasn’t at least five men securely locking my body down, I don’t think I’d be able to stop myself from tearing into the closest being next to me and draining them dry.

“Calm yourself, Asher.” Matthias says from behind my ear as he wraps his arm around my neck. “We drain you and you’ll be worthless for the next few days. That won’t help us find Chloe any faster.”

Chloe, the balm for my burning, fiery skin.

The bloodlust eases enough for me to regain a fraction of control. I’m still feeling quite murderous, but the name alone allows me to gain some focus.

Rolling her name though my mind over and over, I pull up the feelings I felt when I entered her dream. I push those feelings of longing and completeness through my veins. Forcing them through my heart and out to the rest of my body.

I miss her.

Though I’ve never been within a mile of her, I miss her. I feel the ache deep down in my soul.

I miss her, I love her, and I need her.

Taking what amounts to a breath of foul air from Raphael’s mouth, I growl, “Get off me.”

“We good, Asher?” Raphael asks. “You going to make Matthias even uglier than he already is?”

“I take offense to that, you milksop,” Matthias grumbles. “Asher, Raph and I will be getting off you as soon we see you have full control of your faculties.”

“Close enough, asshole,” I growl, and start to slowly push up from the floor.

No one moves for a moment, but by the time I’m at full extension, they’re all off me and waiting around like they’re afraid I’ll break at the littlest of things.

Raphael quickly steps up to me, grabs me by the face, and leans in real close. “What the absolute fuck?”

I feel his fingers wiping right below my eyes, and I’m about to deck him until I see the red streaks on his fingertips.

What the fuck are those?

Confused, I reach up and swipe at my cheeks. When I pull my own fingers away, they’re smeared with blood.

Did I actually cry? Why the fuck are they blood tears?

Yanking me forward before anyone else can see, Raph wraps his arm around my shoulder and says, “We need to talk.”

Moving with him, we walk up to the front of the plane, near the cockpit, before he speaks again.

“What the fuck are those?” Raphael murmurs quietly so the others can’t hear.

After reaching up to swipe at my face again, I can only shrug. “They appear to be tears.”

“Tears?” Leaning in close, he studies me as if I’m some sort of bug.

Slumping back into an empty chair, I feel like I could really go for a bottle of blood and rum mix. Something to settle the nerves in my body. The twitching I feel is awful. Like I’m a bundle of live wires ready to electrocute someone to death.