Delaroth was frenzied. His instinct was telling him to rip the man he had been flashed in his mind. He was furious. He heard the scream again. He had closed in on the source of the scream.
His eyes locked on to the man.
His fangs were bared.
His fist was clenched.
He would not let the man live.
Protect your Own.
She was in tears. She had begged him to stop. She begged him to let her go. She begged and pleaded, but the man would not listen.
The stalker had came too close to her. She could feel his breath on her face. Please help. Would anyone come to save her? This locality was known to be the worst one.
He was just above her, when a force pushed him backward. She faltered and crawled backwards.
Infront of her eyes was the stalker being held by another man she couldn’t see the face of. He appeared to be enraged. The stalker was pushed onto the wall and the wall cracked upon the impact.
“Do you wish for death?” the man snarled ferociously. He was clutching the stalker’s neck in a death grip and raised his body till the legs were dangling in the air. The stalker was choking and managed to speak something that sounded like- “Mercy.”
“You shall have none,” the man sneered with contempt. It seemed like the man would kill him. No, she didn’t want that.
“P-p-please s-s-stop,” she stammered. The man turned his head to her and his grip on the stalker fell loose. The stalker fell and ran for the life of him.
He started walking towards to her. She crawled backwards until her back met the wall. She was cornered. Would he kill her? Her heart thudded against her chest. She would not be able to run.
“Propria Mea,” he muttered when his eyes fell on her. With the streetlight just beside her, she could make out how he looked like as he came near.
He was the most beautiful person she had ever met. His golden hair shone against the street light. The darkness behind him made his eyes glow. His expressions looked soft and relieved. There was a strange realization on his face. She didn’t know the stranger but she felt safe with him.
He appeared to be of Levi’s or Arthur’s age. He bent down and handed her his hand. The very hand that had gripped the stalker’s neck. She hesitated. Her hands were trembling.
“I won’t hurt you” he spoke, softly. His voice wasn’t as fierce as it was when he was talking to the stalker.
Holding her tears, she handed him her trembling hand. He placed his other hand on hers softly. She relaxed. There was something about him she couldn’t pin point, but he made her feel safe, relaxed and relieved.
“Are you feeling alright?” he asked concerned. There was genuine concern in him.
“Yeah, sort of,” she answered and looked deep into his grey eyes. It felt so inviting. She felt at ease with him for no apparent reason. “Have we met before?”
“No, I don’t think so,” he replied without taking his eyes off her.
“Where are you from?”
“Not from here.”
“Do you live here?”
“Why are you here?”
“To find someone.”
“Have you found that person?”
“Yes, I have.” She didn’t know why she was asking so many questions. She felt the need to know him. She wanted to know more about this handsome stranger. Suddenly she realized that she hadn’t thanked him.
“Thank you...” she paused.
“Delaroth,” he completed.
“Delaroth,” she repeated. “That’s a cool name.”
“Oh, please. I should be thanking you! Thank you, Delaroth,” she thanked with a half smile, feeling light-headed and giddy.
“It was nothing,” he replied as if it were really nothing. She thought he was being humble about it.
“It’s nice to meet you, Delaroth,” she smiled. “I’m Luce. Luce Ethan.”
“It is really very nice to meet you too, Luce,” he answered with satisfaction in his voice as he smiled back.
It was the night when two Realms collided. The night where their story began. The story of how Delaroth Achitar, the Vampire King, met his Fated One, Luce Ethan, the human.
Little did they know that that night was the beginning of a future that neither Luce nor Delaroth could possibly foresee. Nor did they know that their story would outlive them by eternity.