In His Eyes

The air grew thick with tension, and every breath felt like a struggle as he loomed over me. His presence exuded danger and power, suffocating me in an invisible grip. 

I felt trapped. 

My instincts screamed at me to escape, but I couldn't tear my gaze away from his piercing silver-grey eyes. They held a mesmerizing intensity that made me hold my breath, not daring to break eye contact. My skin prickled as fear washed over me.

Madness flickered within those eyes, a darkness that threatened to consume me if it was unleashed. My heart began to race. I tried to speak, to find my voice, but all I could manage was a feeble tremor of my lips. I pressed them together, desperately attempting to contain the trembling that consumed me.

His gaze shifted to the tray of food I held, and a predatory smile curved his lips. It sent a chill down my spine, a clear indication that his amusement came at my expense.

"You," he spoke, his voice laced with an undercurrent of menace. I had the distinct feeling that he wasn't addressing me.

Becca's voice broke the tense silence, her words quivering with apprehension. "My Lord?"

"Take that cart somewhere else. This one here will perform her duties," Lord Fashire commanded, his attention fixed solely on me. 

"Yes, my Lord," Becca stammered and rushed past us in a flourish. The door slammed shut behind her, leaving me alone with the looming figure of the powerful vampire Lord.

A lump formed in my throat as panic surged through me. I was about to beg Becca not to leave me alone with this monster, but she was gone before I knew it. I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his presence bearing down on me.

Gathering my courage, I lowered my eyes and managed to force the words out, my voice barely above a whisper. 

"The—the food, my Lord," I breathed out, grabbing the edges of the round tray with desperate hands. I had managed to say something with my eyes lowered.

"I see." He moved away, disappearing into the dark recesses of the room. 

"Carry on, then," his words trailed to meet me and I took hesitant steps forward, walking further into the darker parts of the room.

The effects of the potion I had taken allowed me to see in the darkness, but only after my eyes adjusted to it. As my vision cleared, I froze, my eyes honing onto Lord Fashire's frame lounging on a divan in a secluded corner. His gaze followed my every move, an unsettling scrutiny that intensified the unease within me. I had expected him to be busy with other matters, not observing my every action.

Wasn't there something he had to be busy with? Some papers he had to go through or any other business these noble bloods tended to?

"Is there something wrong with your eyes?" he asked and I stilled, caught by surprise.

No. No. No. This could not be happening. I shouldn't be behaving like this in front of him, of all people. This was dangerous, and I was doing myself no favours by standing in a daze like an imbecile. However, it would also be dangerous wandering blindly in the darkness before I had gotten accustomed to it.

"I am very sorry, my Lord!" I said a little too loud and winced at the high pitch of my voice.

A faint frown creased his features and I swiftly turned away from him, surveying the rest of the room. I had to get this done with and away from here. I was more worried about Lord Fashire discovering my true identity than being concerned about his presence. My fate would be sealed if he were to know what I truly was.

Muffled sobs caught my attention, drawing my gaze to a corner of the room. My heart sank as I saw a young boy, no older than seven, huddled on the floor. He clung to himself, his tear-stained face filled with anguish. Mucus streamed down his nose and his quivering mouth was clamped shut. He was clean aside from all that and dressed in crisp new overalls a little bigger than his size. 

Here was a little boy who cried with restraint, and his bloodshot eyes released an unrelenting agony that cried out to me.

Yet I was helpless to do anything to relieve his pain, especially when he was still going to suffer more than this. 

I moved toward him, but he shrank back from me, terrified. To him, I was one of them—a vampire, a monster. He saw no ally in me, only an enemy who saw him as nothing more than food. There was no hatred in his eyes. That was what made things even worse. The terror etched on his face was unimaginable for me to describe.

Lord Fashire's voice interrupted my thoughts, dripping with disdain. "It seems a certain mongrel isn't afraid of death."