Theus Maclin wasn't moved by tears, but Opal Gracian knew she had to cry more if she was to break free from the vampire king's glamour before it tore down the last defenses of her mind.
She was not a mundane human he could feed upon. Just a taste of her blood would awaken aged memories buried under centuries of pain and magic, breaking the prison built around his heart. She wasn't ready for that, not until she could reach him.
Theus' grip tightened around her neck as he held her against the cold stone wall. Moonlight poured through the puffs of white clouds in the sky lighting up the hunger in his crimson eyes.
“Please, listen…to me,” she whispered between ragged breaths. His expression did not change because he had buried pity many centuries ago when he was forced to execute the woman he loved before leaders of the Church.
It was after the sword had struck, severing her head from her neck, that he screamed falling down on one knee as he felt their mating bond snap.
Her face had been hidden beneath a black hood. Her scent masked with a strong enchantment. Her mouth sewn shut and her wrists bound in magical shackles that made it impossible for her to summon her powers.
They had set him up to break their bond so they could control him. Not a single soul survived that gathering. He slaughtered every witness and fled the village.
Centuries later, his fangs hovered close to her throat. She could feel his anger and frustration because his glamour failed to subdue his prey.
Opal squeezed her eyes shut and let the tears fall. They came from a deeper place and carried every fear she'd swallowed the night the leaders of the Church bound her like a criminal for her mate to execute.
One tear slid onto his hand and Theus froze. Opal felt his glamour uncoil from her, slipping back into him. He let go of her neck and recoiled, stumbling backwards before falling to ground on his backside.
“Opal?” he croaked, the crimson fading from his eyes to the icy blue she had always loved.
Smiling through her tears, she knelt beside him and gently cupped his face. “Yes, Theus. It's me.”
“I waited,” he whispered through his tears.
“I know. And now, we are together again.”
They clung to each other like two starving souls pulled from the abyss, afraid that letting go would make the moment an illusion or unreal. A mournful howl carried through the castle that night, raw with grief finally finding a release and daring to hope for a future.
I hope you enjoyed reading this short piece. It's inspired by the Freewrite #dailyprompt phrase "cry more".
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