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Chapter 36
Weylen
The heavy doors of the grand Elysium burst open, unleashing a pulsating wave of upbeat techno music into the once quiet processional hall. The lively beat reverberates through the air, silencing the hushed conversations around us as the supernatural community indulges in their vices and revels in the night.
Drystan confidently leads the way, his steps quick and sure as we navigate through the crowd toward our designated seats. I keep a watchful eye on Thalia at my side, while Asher stays close to me, and our chosen guards trail behind. It’s important for us to maintain a strong presence in this place, where power and status are constantly under scrutiny.
As we approach our thrones, I can see that our clan members have already arrived and taken their places in the spectator seats surrounding us. There are more of them here this year than in previous years, all eager to cheer on one of our founding members, Irena. She holds a special place in the hearts of our clan members, not only because of her skillful business ventures that provide employment for many within our community, but also for her central role in rebuilding what was once Drystan’s crumbling tribe.
Without her determination and hard work, we would not be where we are today.
It’s also a momentous occasion to have an Ancient like Irena participating in the Elysium fights. No Ancient has battled inside the Elysium for over a decade.
While it’s customary for most clans to have their members prove their strength and prowess through combat, Clan King operates differently. We value loyalty and ambition over brute force. We do not make our members fight as a means of earning their status; they demonstrate their worth through dedication and accomplishment.
But as a recognized clan, we are still obligated to offer our people the opportunity to fight in this tournament. And they do so eagerly. Not to prove a point or secure their position, but simply because they relish the chance to test their skills and push themselves beyond their limits. This is just another way in which we strive to move our world forward and break away from outdated traditions that hold us back.
Thalia clings tightly to my arm as we make our way through the bustling crowd that has gathered in the surrounding area to welcome the fighters. Her fingers dig into my skin, fluctuating between ice cold and burning hot. It’s clear that she’s nervous and out of her element, but she masks it with a facade of calm detachment. Her posture is regal, and she moves with the confidence of someone who belongs here.
A queen among kings.
I can’t help but stare at her, taking in her bold and tenacious beauty. The dress designed by Irena hugs her curves like a second skin, accentuating every inch of her body. As we walk down the red carpet that leads to our thrones, we are greeted by an array of other clan leaders who have come to take part in this ancient tradition. Some are from local clans, while others have traveled from distant lands. In the stands, there are clusters of clans mingling together, but there are also noticeable gaps where certain clans remain separate.
One of the largest gaps is between Jedidiah’s clan and Clan Reverish.
Gaylon Reverish, leader of Clan Reverish, looks out over the arena and nods his head in acknowledgment when he sees me. I return the gesture before glancing over to the empty throne of Jedidiah. Reverish shrugs his shoulders before turning back to his own people. This is an interesting development. But then again, Jedidiah loves making a grand entrance.
We pause occasionally on our way to greet other clan leaders. Sasha, the de facto leader of the Petrovna Clan, greets me with a hearty slap on the back and a boisterous laugh.
“It’s good to see you, my friend,” he exclaims in his thick Russian accent, speaking over the cacophony of voices around us. This year, he only has two fighters participating instead of the usual four. Like Drystan, he doesn’t believe in forcing his members to fight. But despite their low numbers, the Petrovna Clan often makes it to the final round because of their incredible skill and talent.
Looking around, I see Clan Bryne, Abaza, Sato, Huang, and Perez. Clan Batbayar is missing, and so is Clan Adebayo. That isn’t uncommon for Batbayar. They’re a secretive and traditional clan from Mongolia. They would rather be at peace on their lands than seek violence in the arena. It’s unusual not to see Adebayo. They are known as career fighters. The ones who train every year for these fights, holding second on the leader board after Clan King. I sneak a peek at Asher, who shakes his head sadly.
So Adebayo has been eliminated.
It has been over a hundred years since a clan has been eliminated. Something like that is nearly unheard of in modern society. Vampires aren’t hunted like they once were, and even with Jedidiah pulling unsuspecting vampires into his cult clan, it hasn’t happened. A leader being eliminated? That happens all the time, but for a whole clan to be decimated is unheard of.
“It’s good to see you again, leaders.”
I groan internally, closing my eyes and taking a deep, cleansing breath. With Thalia on my arm, I was hoping to avoid this, but vultures will feed, even when there’s nothing for them.
If there was a mean girl clique among our kind, these three would undoubtedly be the queens. Asher, Drystan, and I have all shared intimate moments with them in the past, but none of them hold any power over us. They may try to vie for our attention and affection, but they will never hold a candle to the bond between our triad.
My gaze flickers to Thalia, who stands beside me with a look of disdain on her face as she subtly scans the trio in front of us. Their perfectly styled outfits scream wealth and luxury, but unlike some of the more tastefully dressed females around them, theirs are overtly revealing and provocative. One of them, Sadie, steps forward and addresses Drystan with lowered lashes and a demure tone. Her dress leaves little to the imagination as it plunges down to her navel, drawing attention to her ample curves. My brother remains cool and detached, acknowledging her presence with no warmth or interest. We have shared many nights with Sadie, but she has never been more than a temporary distraction. She lacks the true submissive nature that we crave and does not possess the passion and fire that our beloved lamb does. Despite being willing to submit to us physically, she could never match the challenge and depth of emotion that our lamb brings to our relationship.
True submissiveness is a balance between obedience and defiance. Thalia submits, but not before making sure we earn it. We want to earn the power we hold over her.
“It has been awhile since I’ve entertained you. I miss the company of your beds.”Sadie’s head remains bowed respectfully as she speaks, her lashes casting shadows over her eyes. Thalia stiffens at my side, her demeanor becoming rigid and tense. I can’t help but smile at her misplaced jealousy, knowing that her abilities can easily put the mean queen in her place. After all, Irena was lucky that her previous stunt did not result in her exploding the room.
“It has been,” Drystan responds simply, his tone unreadable.
“I would be honored to accompany you and the other leaders to your chamber after the fights.”Sadie’s hopeful suggestion hangs in the air, her small smile directed toward him.
Thalia’s nails dig painfully into my arm, causing a surge of desire to flow through me. I offer no comfort or reassurance, knowing that it would only make her appear weak. She needs to trust us tonight and remind herself of our promises—that she belongs to us, that she’s safe.
“If conditions are favorable,” Drystan replies noncommittally. His gaze has already moved on from the blonde in front of us, his interest lost. Sadie slinks back into the crowd with her three cronies, her hopes crushed.
The tension in Thalia’s shoulders eases slightly, but the night is far from over, and more challenges are sure to come her way. Case in point, Alexandra. The viperous redhead makes her way toward us with purpose, her dark eyes locking on mine. Her blood-red dress clings to her curves as she walks elegantly through the crowd. Unlike Sadie, she is a one-man kind of woman, a true submissive like our little lamb. Her narrowed gaze falls upon the King Clan pin adorning Thalia’s dress, taking in the silver-tinged bite marks scattered across my woman’s body. A sneer twists Alexandra’s lips before she dismisses Thalia altogether.
