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Chapter 8

The princess firmly held unto her sides, a look of uncertainly plastered across her slim face. Aside the king's hateful stare, his huge black wings blocked her view of the entire room, she couldn't even make out who was the intruder.

However, just by taking another glance at him, Elena deduced from his softened gaze that his majesty must have an idea on who had rudely barged into the tower.

"How dare you come here?!" He raged against the intruder, his voice laced with venom. The cautious king did not lower his wings, even when he was aware of the intruder's identity.

There was no response from the intruder, only the sound of his scattered footsteps carelessly sauntering about the room.

"Bastard." The king said and wrapped an arm around Elena's slender waist, startling the princess, causing her to flinch from his icy cold palm.

He slowly lowered his wings, allowing the princess to see the entire room, and the stuttering man who staggered at the middle, hiccuping as he struggled to maintain his balance.

The king, with Elena in hand, charged furiously at the flushed cheeked man, then grabbed him by the neck, elevating his feet off the floor, slamming his back against the wall.

Elena looked away in fright, as blood trickled from the intruder's neck, down to the floor under his feet. The king's sharp fingernails clawed at his flesh in an unforgiving manner, as his fingers tightened around the man's neck. Making it almost impossible for him to even breathe.

"Perhaps I was too lenient with my words." He announced with gritted teeth, locking his harsh gaze with the dark haired intruder, whose entire face had turned beet red.

"I'm letting you off...alive, as a warning. The next time you step foot into this tower unannounced, I'll have your head." Alixandre declared, holding back the urge to rip off the head of the drunken man, struggling to breathe.

Unannounced, two men rushed into the scene with bleeding foreheads and flustered expressions, as they took heavy breaths.

Alixandre shifted his gaze from Lancelot whose veins looked ready to pop, and landed his menacing stare on the new set of intruders.

"Forgive us, but he suddenly attacked us in his drunken state and managed to slip out of our grip." Said one out of the two men, who were dressed in matching redĀ Tunics, having a golden crest in the middle.

The king pursued his lips and freed his grip on Lancelot, the man fell miserably on his ass, as he hooked his hands on his neck, desperately gasping for breath.

Both men filed into the room with their heads lowered in fear, fear of the black winged man with a raw animalistic gaze in his eyes. With jittery hands, they made an attempt to latch onto a drunken Lancelot.

However, the king pulled his lips back into a devilish smile, his amused eyes settled on the men who cowered in fear, an idea struck his mind.

"Forgiveness?" Alixandre echoed, staring cautiously at his bloodied fingernails with full wide eyed interest. He scoffed at the thought, and clenched his fingers into a tight fist.

The king discreetly let go of Elena's waist, reminding the woman of her own presence in the room. With a wicked smile, he lowered himself to the mages level and rested a hand on each men's shoulder, starling them.

"SI...sire?!"

"I beg to differ!" Alixandre cried out and grabbed both their necks like a butcher would two helpless chickens. He lifted them off their feet and swiftly strolled over to the tower's window.

"Please sire!"

"Forgive us!"

They chanted frantically, squirming against his grip, fighting in their own way for their lives. Clawing at his fingers with all their might, without leaving so much as even a scratch or causing the man to wince in pain.

Elena stretched out her hand to try and interfere, but immediately curled her fists into a ball and retracted her grip. She reminded herself, that this place was hell, and there would be nothing to gain, by having sympathy for devils.

With a sadistic grin, the king dangled their almost flaccid bodies outside the tower's window, with the intention of dropping them over.

"Do...dont...do...do..." The man struggled to speak, as air no longer flowed into his brain.

"Don't drop you?" Alixandre asked in a teasing tone, both men nodded eagerly, with eyes clenched in pain.

"That would be too kind a death."

Before the realization of what he meant could strike them, he effortlessly snapped their necks and dropped their corpses from the top of the tower, with no mercy in his eyes.

Elena's gasp caught his attention, he swiped his hands against his pants then casted his gaze on the woman who stood in front of the bedroom door, cowering in fear.

"Get some sleep." He gruffly said, his wings still standing proud and firm on full display.

She stood in place, unable to find the strength to even move, after all she had just witnessed a murder! Two even!

"You are a fool, if you're feeling pity for the dead." Alixandre told her, as he made gentle strides towards her, casting his shadow against her.

He took her by the wrist and pulled the princess away from the door without making eye contact with her and pushed her unto the bed. Elena arched her back when she landed hard, the scent of lime from the sheets filled her nose.

She made an attempt to stand up, but Alixandre pinned both her hands over her head, and glared harshly at the princess. Elena struggled against his tight grip, hurting herself as she squirmed on the bed, fighting against the monster, who only ever cursed at her.

Lancelot had already disposed of himself from the room, leaving behind an angry demon and a timid witch.

"I said sleep, don't make me do something to put you to sleep. Permanently." He threatened, striking fear into Elena's heart, her gaze softened in defeat as the princess ceased her struggles.

"Just..." She took a pause and looked away from Alixandre's piercing gaze, at the window, where two men had just died.

"Kill me already." The princess softly whispered, with no emotions in her emerald green eyes. She laid stretched out on the bed, giving herself up to the ruthless king to do as he deemed fit to her.

Alixandre stiffened when he noticed how empty her eyes were, he quickly recovered from his shock and let go of her wrists. He noticed the marks his tight grip had caused but did not react to it.

The king walked over to the window and ran his fingers around it, as the cold midnight breeze roughly caressed his face.

He sat on the window, and rested the back of his head against the pane, a stoic expression planted on his face. He buried his face in his right palm and let out a long suppressed sigh.

"Don't ever speak of death again, as long as you're in this tower, I never want to hear you speak of dying." Elena heard him whisper under his breath.

She stole a glance at the man perched on the window, the moonlight cast on his wings and dark black hair.

"Even if you were to die..." The king paused and diverted his gaze to the half moon, staring intently at it.

"It would be by my hands alone." Alixandre quietly spoke, his resolve written all over his face, as he clenched his fingers into a fist.

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