007: THE VAMPIRE'S LORD'S PETAL

When Cassian walks out of the bathroom, dressed in a robe that’s too soft on his body, and his hair still dripping with water, he almost stops in his tracks at the sight that welcomes him. 

There is a row of maids waiting for him, each one of them holding a set of clothes as if they had been standing there the whole time he showered. 

Dresses, coats, trousers, shirts, different fabrics, and colours he has never seen or worn in his life.

One of them steps forward, a young boy who looks three years older than him. He gives Cassian a bow and then a smile. “I am Ollie, your valet. I’m here to help you get dressed. Lord Lancaster wishes for you to join the family for breakfast. You may pick what you find most comfortable.”

Cassian blinks and shifts his weight. He has never been given choices like this. Back in camp, his clothes were whatever was available, patched together, mostly old and worn. Here, everything looks new and spotless. He hesitates, then points at a simple black attire with a white shirt. “This one.”

Ollie nods slightly. He waves his hand dismissively at the other maids, and they leave. Then he takes a step forward to help Cassian with his robe, but Cassian instantly jumps away. “What are you doing?”

The boy frowns, as if offended. “To help you get dressed, Master Cassian,”

Cassian blinks rapidly as he looks at the boy’s pale features; vampire. “Just call me Cassian, and I can dress myself, thank you.”

“It’s my job to help you; I will get punished if I don’t assist you.” his face falls into a forlorn expression.

Again, Cassian blinks. He doesn’t care if a vampire boy gets punished, but he’s just a child, and Cassian doesn’t want a child to get punished. He exhales a defeated sigh, and he breaks into a smile again, and Ollie is just too happy to help him.

The shirt is soft against his skin, unlike anything he's ever worn before, and it feels strange being dressed by someone else.

By the time he’s ready, Cassian feels like he’s in someone else’s body. The fabrics are too fine, the cut too neat, and they hug his hips tightly. When he looks in the mirror, he doesn't even recognise himself. He frowns at how perfectly brushed his hair is. He brings his hand up and runs his fingers through it. He's living a fake life, but he can't have everything be perfect.

“Come with me, Master Cassian,” Ollie tells him warmly, and then he leads him through the door and down the long hallways.

As Cassian follows, he can't help but think about what's waiting for him there. Alastor already knows he's human, yet hasn't killed him yet. Is luck on his side, or is the vampire merely playing with his food? Cassian knows it's the latter, but he's already ready for the worst. 

He's not here to die so easily, and if fate is on his side, he's going to use it to his advantage.

The mansion feels like it has no end, and when Ollie finally opens the door to the dining hall, Cassian is met with the sight of five people already seated at the long table, their eyes instantly turning to him at once, sharp and curious. Cassian consciously halts at his feet.

He feels their gaze crawling on his skin as they scan from head to toe, noticing the fact that they are clearly judging him, and they are all women: three younger and two older.

One of the older ones with bright red lips tilts her head. “You’re the new mate Alastor selected at the ball. Everyone has been talking about you; I expected much more, but clearly, I'm disappointed,” she motions at his entire being, and the others giggle.

“Yes. You’re right, Mother, there’s nothing special about him,” one of the younger ones agrees. “Tell us, where are you from?”

Cassian blinks but keeps his face blank, but doesn't move a muscle. He feels like he might stab someone in the throat if he gets any nearer. “Nowhere important,” comes his cold, icy reply.

“How vague for a commoner. You should be lucky that the Lord picked you to be his mate. Others are dying to be in your shoes.” The second-oldest woman spits as if he killed her favourite pet. 

“Already interrogating him?” 

A gasp rips out of Cassian’s throat as a deep, low sound comes right beside his ear, causing him to turn sharply to find Alastor's eyes staring at him. He stumbles, but the vampire’s hand instantly snakes around his waist and pulls him back, Cassian's hands landing on his chest.

“Careful there, petal,” the vampire lord smirks with amusement. 

Cassian blinks rapidly and pushes himself off. Clearly, his throat is awkward, but he keeps his head high. He doesn't even notice the way everyone has risen to their feet, bowing their head lowly at the lord.

Alastor stares at him for a moment, but he offers his hand with a gentle smile. “Come, let's have breakfast; you must be starving.”

Cassian stares at the offered hand blankly for a lingering moment. He looks up to meet Alastor’s challenging eyes, as if daring him to refuse. Cassia hesitates but takes the hand, letting Alastor lead him to a seat beside the one at the edge of the table.

As soon as they sit, servants begin placing dishes on the long table. Plates of food: fruits, bread, and roasted meat, along with glasses filled with a thick, dark red liquid. The metallic scent hits Cassian’s nose, and his stomach turns.

He grimaces, looking away, but curiosity pushes him to glance back. Vampires don’t just drink blood; they eat. The thought makes him swallow hard. They pretend to be humans so well that it's disgusting.

He doesn’t get to dwell on the thought because a servant suddenly sets a glass near his hand, and Cassian recognises the face. Oscar. What is the vampire doing here?

For a moment, their eyes lock. Oscar’s expression doesn’t change, but when he sets the glass down, he flashes the quickest wink before stepping back.

Cassian stares at the drink. It looks like blood. His fingers tighten on the edge of the table, just like the one he got at the ball. Slowly, he brings it up to his nose and sniffs. It's the same thing. 

Alastor, who has been watching him the whole time, smirks. He leans closer and plucks the glass from Cassian’s hand without asking. Cassian opens his mouth to protest, but he doesn't get to because the vampire lord has already taken the glass to his lips and takes a slow drink, then lowers it.

Instantly, a chuckle leaves him, and he shakes his head. “Interesting.”

Cassian meets Alastor’s amused eyes. He doesn't know what this man is thinking, but it's dangerous. 

“Uncle. Why did you pick him out of others? I think there's nothing special about him. He’s just a commoner,” the question comes from among the ladies. 

Alastor doesn't tear his gaze from Cassian's face, as if he looks away for a moment, he might miss something. He stabs a piece of fruit on his tray with a fork and holds it in Cassian's lips while those dark eyes of his pin the human with a stare, once again daring him to refuse, and Cassian doesn't dare to as he reluctantly leans in and opens his mouth, taking the piece of fruit.

“Oh, darling, you have no idea how special this one is,” Alastor finally replies to his niece while smiling at Cassian. 

What a dangerous game Cassian is playing, but shame, he's ready to gamble with his life.

~

As soon as breakfast is over, Ollie escorts Cassian back to his room before leaving, leaving Cassian to pace slowly from one end to the other, his chest tight and his thoughts tangled.

Suddenly, the door opens without warning, and he almost jumps out of his skin when Oscar slips inside.

“Alastor knows.” That's the first time that slip passes Cassian's lips as he looks at Oscar. “He knows I’m human. He can smell it on me; he’s toying with me.”

Oscar shuts the door quickly, stepping towards him. “Wow, that's faster than I thought. How are you still alive?” 

“He’s playing with his food.” 

Oscar breaks into a chuckle. “You're right, vampires tend to play with their prey before sucking them dry. Since your cover got blown so soon, perhaps you should escape while you still can.”

“No.” Cassian’s voice comes without hesitation, sharper than he expected.

Oscar blinks, caught off guard. “No?”

“I’m not leaving,” Cassian retorts. “Not when I’m already inside. Not when I’m this close. I’ll take the risk.”

Oscar chuckles again. “You do realise you're this close to death, do you? Lord Alastor isn’t someone you toy with. It's not just your life that's in danger, mine too, and it's not in our agreement that I have to die with you.”

Cassian's hands clenched at his side, while his jaw clenched and his eyes hardened. “I have already made up my mind. I've come this far; I won't go back. You can escape while you can. I'm not going anywhere.” 

Oscar stares at him, puzzled. Then he shakes his head, more impressed than disappointed. “You’re stubborn. That stubbornness will get you killed.”

“Then so be it,” came Cassian’s firm reply. He stopped fearing death the day he lost his mother and brother to these monsters.

“Then you’d better be ready. Because Alastor Lancaster doesn’t play fair.”

Cassian nods, because he's ready.