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The vampire felt his stomach drop as the door swung inward, that sense of foreboding gripping him with jagged teeth as he stepped inside at her invitation. His gaze swept the room quickly, taking in as much as he could before it settled on the sole occupant bathed in candelight. She was a striking figure sat behind the ominous orb perched upon its pedestal. He inclined his head in a soft, respectful nod, and approached her. They needed to talk? About what? He couldn't fathom what Cryso would want to speak to him about. Nothing had changed in his life except for.... Vadoma.

He felt his chest tighten anxiously, his pupils constricting for a second before he calmed himself. He didn't speak to anyone about her. He hadn't told a soul. How would Cryso know about her unless...? Unless she'd been watching him. He honestly didn't expect her to have much interest in what he did, he stayed out of her way and did what she asked, if she asked. She had never really seemed to need him to handle anything for her. She was self-sufficient and kept her motivations and mechanations to herself, she was an enigma to him. He chose to speak little in her presence any time they met, his tongue always suddenly dry in his mouth.

Her tone was enough to tell him she wasn't interested in small talk, neither was he, but he would have suffered through it to avoid whatever was coming. Rares sat, a sliver of silver woven into his hair glinted in the warm light surrounding them and then dissappeared again in his dark locks. He flexed his claws into the arms of the chair, his intense eyes watching her carefully. "What can I possibly tell you that I assume you don't already know?" He said with a smirk, burying the fear in his gut as deep as it would go. While he looked confident and calm on the outside he was certain he wasn't fooling her.

When those eyes locked onto him he felt almost immobilized, the strength behind them terrifying to the Ancilla. He never got used to the feeling that overtook him when she had that gaze trained solely on him. The movement of her claws and the swirling if the fog was mesmerizing, he managed to tear his eyes away for a moment to glance down, before those amber eyes snapped back up to his sire.

Gullible? Naive? What was she talking about? Her next words were the ones he'd been the most afraid she'd say. This was about her, this was about Vadoma. His eyes narrowed as he watched her, as he listened. He didn't want to hear whatever she was saying. But when she said that Vadoma was lying to him he felt his blood go cold.

Rares looked up at Cryso, his expression guarded but his attention fully upon her. "Why?" He asked, his brows furrowing again, this time in confusion. "I don't believe it." He didn't. He couldn't believe Vadoma was lying to him. And her parents? No, shamefully he didn't know who her parents were. They hadn't gotten that far yet. He was just beginning to feel comfortable enough to start opening up to her. As the other vampire bade him look into the ball his gut screamed at him not to, but he felt like he had no control. He had to look.

In the vision he saw Vadoma with... his stomach turned to stone. He recognized that client. It was a client who had a nasty little habit of double dealing, he'd already warned him once. Threatened that if he tried to double deal him that he would see it coming and his life would be over. As he watched the gold exchange hands it was like a knife in his heart. His claws dug into the arms of the chair, slicing deep into the wood and fabric. Was this really true? He couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe it was real. The next vision and an intense heat filled his body, it was him and Vadoma, together. He remembered that kiss and seeing it displayed like this was another turn of the knife.

He tore his gaze away, his temper flaring wildly. "I don't believe it. This isn't real. This can't be real. She wouldn't..." He lifted his gaze to Cryso, it was filled with hurt, the pain evident on his face. No. He had to trust her. She cared about him. He felt the tether between them, like a white hot cord, connecting them. That wasn't a lie. "I know what I feel... she wouldn't do this." He felt his jaw tighten, desperately clinging onto his faith that Vadoma hadn't been playing him for a fool.

Rares felt like someone was reaching into his chest and pulling his heart out slowly. He looked down at the crystal ball again and closed his eyes to block out the memory of images. But they replayed over and over again. He felt the sting of tears burn his eyes, a single red tear rolling from the corner of his eye. He aggressively clawed it away in a single motion, cutting his cheek in the process.

Had she been anyone else he wouldn't have trusted her and, instead, simply walked out the door, but it was difficult to fight her. He was so uncertain. He believed Cryso but that tether to Vadoma told him something about this was wrong. He fought against his blood, pushing against the influence of the horror.

When he'd looked into her eyes he'd only seen the truth, his mind raced back to the last time they were together, holding her in his arms, kissing her face gently after they'd spent the entire evening wrapped in the furs of his bed. The heat blossomed in his chest again, it couldn't be a lie. Could it? "The last time I was stupid, I chose not to see what was there. This time it's different. She accepts what I am. I know she cares about me." The pain growing inside of him was potent, but he fought it.

Rares was trying not to let himself get pulled in, he felt so strongly that it wasn't true, but Cryso's words, and the vision of the horror, had begun to take root deep within him. The seed planted and rapidly growing. He felt the tether between him an Vadoma begin to fray. When the older vampire revealed who Vadoma's fathers were he felt like he'd been slapped in the face. So, that's why. Why she knew so much about the Clan. Why she spoke their language. Her father was the clan betrayer.

Rares had never met Ravnos, all he knew was what Cryso told him. And his opinion of the Disciple was not very pleasant as a result. And he other father... the God of Vampires? What game was she playing? Trying to get him in the same room with the two of them? They would know what he was, who he was, and the minute they knew there was something between him and Vadoma... they would probably have killed him. Was that her game? Was that what she'd been paid to do? Get close to him and then lure him back to the temple so her father's could do her dirty work for her? It would have looked so innocent too. They probably wouldn't have even known what she was up to. Just protecting their daughter from a monster.


Had he been so desperate to believe she cared that what he'd seen had just been an illusion? Had there really been nothing? Rares put his elbows on his knees, cradling his head in his claws, closing his eyes. He'd done it again. He'd really done it again. He swore he wouldn't. Not after the last. He was seeing what he so badly wanted to see. But it was a lie. His ears flicked as she said he should kill her, but he didn't raise his head.

His eyes, the light in them beginning to fade but not fully gone yet, opened to stare through the floor. Every time they had been together, every kiss, every embrace, every soft word and assurance. She hadnt meant any of it. Not one moment. Rares felt himself breaking, the fire of his temper taking root and growing steadily. But could he really do it? His eyes softened, pained again. Could he really kill her?

Cryso's comforting words slithered into his brain, preying on his broken heart. She'd been the only one to consider him worth saving, or that was what he'd been led to believe despite what the truth actually was, so he didn't have any reason to not believe her when she told him that his pain was hurting her as well.

He felt a coldness growing inside of him again, the walls slamming back up. But the sadness deepened, overwhelming everything except his anger. He felt defeated, exhausted, and lost. So he turned to the only thing he knew that chased away the pain, the darkness. The tether between him and Vadoma was still there but faint, frayed, barely connected. But it hadn't broken. He smothered it, shielding himself from what it was trying to tell him. It was a lie.

"Am I the only one she's done this to? Cryso... am I the only one?" He lifted his face to look at his Sire, the little light that was left in them hopeful that this wasn't something she'd ever done before, that he'd been the first, maybe it was a misunderstanding. Maybe she did it to get out of some trouble. She'd seemed so innocent. If he knew, if he knew that she had done the same thing to others. The thought of it. Of her... pretending to love other men, the thought of her with them. His anger flared, jealousy and betrayal fanning it into a wildfire. If it was true he could probably kill her. He couldn't let her do this to anyone else again. He figured he could live with the pain that was eating away at him like a ravenous animal. He didn't know if that was true anymore. He didn't know if he could survive this time. He was so tired.

Not the only one. His heart slammed closed, the light in his eyes died completely and the male slowly stood. His expression once again devoid of any emotion with the exception of a begruding kind of impatience for being in the presence of another. He needed to get out of here, he didn't know where he was going to go, but he needed to go. He was about to crawl out of his skin. The cut on his cheek healed rapidly but the sting still reminded him of what had caused it and he clenched his jaw, burying the idea that he could have ever been moved that deeply over another.

"Can I go?" He'd made it to his feet, his demeanor rigid, guarded. Cryso had done it. She'd broken him again. The darkness swarmed around Rares, he gripped the back of the chair, his claws sinking into the fabric. He could feel his body shaking, trying to retain his composure somewhat before his sire. He didn't look at her, his gaze lost, focused on the door. Maybe he'd get a drink. He didn't drink often but he didn't know how else to calm himself, aside from slaughtering someone. The moment she released him he'd be out that door, headed for... nothing.