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The change in the air was barely registered by the vampire at first, but that all changed rapidly. He could feel the power thrumming through the temple suddenly, leaving nothing untouched by it as it rippled outwards and enveloped the male. The sounds were excruciating, he closed his eyes tightly and tilted his head to the side, teeth gritting as he tried to endure it.

An unsettling feeling gripped him, something heavy snaking from his ankles upward. Opening one eye slowly, fighting through the noise, his gaze landed upon the shadows and he took an involuntary breath inward, his call had been heard. He let the shadows take him, cocooned in the embrace of oblivion.

As quickly as it came it was gone, all of it, the temple, the sound, the shadows, and Rares was somewhere new. He wasn't curious about his surroundings, his eyes intently locked on the throne before him, at the raw power emanating from the inky depths that rolled and writhed upon it. He felt the fear then, warning him, his blood whispering that what he was doing was serious. But he knew that. He wouldn't have come here if he wasn't serious. This wasn't a game.

The red eyes pierced through him, making his skin crawl, the voice that demanded sending another wave of fear coursing through his body. He was here. The God had come. Rares approached just enough to place himself before the throne and instantly fell to his knees. He had to find his voice, adding fear to the mix of volatile emotions waging war in his head was enough to find him losing his tongue. His eyes remained downcast, unable to raise. Finally he spoke.

"I stopped asking the gods for help long ago... but I have no other choice now." He began, his tone defeated and exhausted. "I didn't come here to sell you some sob story, that doesn't matter. I came here to ask, no.... I came here to beg you... kill me before I kill Vadoma. If you wont, I'm begging you, at least confine me. Somewhere I can't hurt her." He was ready, he'd made peace with final death. At least the pain would stop. His hand slipped into the pocket of his jacket, clutching the tarot card, squeezing it tightly. If it meant she would be safe he could find peace in choosing to die or in never seeing the world again.

The pressure upon his body was oppressive, that sting of fear searing throughout his entire form. He could see movement from the corner of his eye but he didn't dare lift his gaze, he couldn't. It wasn't his fear of death or of being harmed, that was what he came here for. Instead it was because he knew that this was the father of the woman he had begun to love, there was too much shame in him, too much anger. He felt his body shaking under the weight of the gods energy, the fire of his rage stoked once more by the horrors. 'This is the liars father.' It whispered. 'Why are you ashamed for trying to do what needs to be done?'

He squeezed the card in his pocket tighter, the tether trying to pull him out of the horror, but it was so strong. Then the shadows came again. He felt them slither up his body, his eyes closing as they enveloped him, lifting him off the ground. He couldn't move, but he didnt try. He wasn't here to fight. He felt himself moving through the air towards the throne, the closer he got the stronger that sting of fear became until it practically filled every nerve ending, he'd never felt power like this. Not even Cryso, his only comparison, held a candle to the strength he felt emanating from the Deity before him.

Rares finally opened his eyes and they locked onto that burning red, the wrath that poured from those eyes was hard for him to comprehend in its entirety. He had never felt wrath like that. Even as angry as his entire life had left him it wasn't the same, this was different, primordial. A kind of wrath that was almost pure. It was too strong and his amber eyes slid away again, refusing to return. He winced when the touch came, his jaw clenching again, fangs bared as those claws dug into his skull. More pressure. More fear. Had his heart still beat it would have been thudding wildly in his chest. His beast recoiled, the fear triggering the beginnings of Frenzy. If he hadn't been so ready for his own death he probably would have.

As suddenly as it began the pressure eased and that voice broke the silence, sending a shiver through his body. Why? The question made Rares open his eyes again. Why couldn't he stop this? It was like he couldn't move one way or the other. Every time the memory of what Cryso had shown him began to pull him to kill her, that tether pulled him back. When the tether began to make him see reason the visions would overpower him, convincing him he had to kill her. He couldn't answer. He didn't understand. What was he supposed to tell him? She lied to me? Was using me? She pretended to love me? What did his reasons really matter to the God of Vampires? "I loved her, I trusted her, and she betrayed me." The words were strained but the pain in them was evident, he looked back into the eyes of the god and they seemed so dull save the small flicker of inner rage as his temper flared at the memory.

"I don't know. I can't stop it. Every time I try..." The words cut out as the horror once again urged him on. 'Lie to the god... then you can leave and you can kill her. You shouldn't have left it. She was vulnerable. There's still time.' The flash of those terrifyingly long teeth was seared into his mind, he knew it wouldn't take much for the end should the Deity choose to use them. Not that he even needed to. He shut his eyes against the heat of the gods gaze and tried to push the voices willing him to hurt her out of his head. They were so relentless in their conviction.

The vampire figured he would have suffered final death by now, therefore it came as a shock to him that he was still very much on this plane of existence. He bore the weight of the energy and, as much as it was oppressive, in it he found a strange sense of familiarity mixed with the discomfort. He was used to weight. Even the pain had not been unfamiliar, until Grendel began to sift through his mind that was. This pain was beyond anything he had ever experienced, in mortality or immortality. Even the change, when he'd been turned, hadn't felt like this and his had been rough.

Rares' eyes rolled back in his head before his eyelids slid shut and his face contorted into a grimace of extreme agony. He just wanted to die. To end it. Why couldn't he just die? Vadoma... Her face shifted to the forefront of his thoughts and he could see her so clearly. Her smile, her eyes, that long hair, the bright energy she exhuded. His claws dug deeply into his palms, drawing blood, tears sliding out the corners of his eyes in a mixture of anguish and heartbreak. He had just wanted a chance with her, but it was over. There was no place for them now. Not anymore.

Suddenly it was gone, the pain, but Rares couldn't see, he couldn't hear, or feel. He was numb. Like every sensation had been burned out of his body, overwhelmed by the intensity of the experience. It took several minutes before he had recovered enough to even realize Grendel had spoken to him. Asked him a question. His blood recoiled at the inquiry from the Deity, the bond to his sire tightening its grip on him, reigning him in. "She saved me." He finally managed through gritted teeth, the words had been a challenge to speak, his tongue felt like lead in his mouth. The taste of blood across his lips. Had he bitten his tongue? Probably. Everything throbbed. What did his sire have to do with anything? This wasn't about her. But Rares didn't say anything further, he kept his mouth shut.

Rares recovered, slowly, his body exhausted after the intense agony of having his mind practically skewered while the deity sifted through it for information. The invasion was unwelcome, but it wasn't like he had much of a choice. The sneer confused him however, his eyebrows knitting questioningly as he managed to finally look at the god again. Why was that so impossible to believe? He had to have seen it. If he was looking for memories of what happened, memories of Cryso after that, he would have seen the night Rares was embraced.

Nearly dead, broken, starving, the light fading from his eyes as the rain pelted down and chilled him to the bone. What else could it be deciphered as but saving? Suddenly he felt naive, like he was somehow the butt of a joke he wasn't privy to. An outsider looking in. He felt the anger again in his chest, the blood on his tongue, he shouldn't have come here. But the next words out of Grendel's mouth made his blood freeze in his veins. A horror?

His eyes widened for a second before the vampire looked away quickly, gaze practically burning a hole in the floor. A horror? His bond to his sire told him it couldn't be true, but Rares wasn't stupid. He knew what he felt. Why every time he tried to find reason those thoughts would slip back in and overpower any logic that lent his reason credibility. He'd never been so unable to regain complete control over himself, and while he could be volatile and guarded and stubborn, he was able to at least see reason and change his mind when presented with facts. But he wasn't able to. He couldn't change his mind. Would she really do that to him? Why? For what purpose?

The horror tried to slither through his mind, bringing back the images, whispering its lies, but Rares was at a loss, trying to process what the god had told him. Did this mean it wasn't true? That Vadoma hadn't lied to him? That she hadn't betrayed him? And he'd nearly... his body shook slightly, that anger building. Cryso had almost caused him to kill the one person he cared about. The one person he... Grendel asked it before his mind could finish. 'Do you actually love Vadoma?'. Did he? He knew the answer, but it scared him to say it out loud. To admit it.

The tether burned white hot in his chest. The answer was clear. Yes. He did love her. But he wasn't ready to tell her that. In fact, how was he even supposed to look her in the eyes again after what he'd almost done. Nearly killed was still an attempt, it didnt lessen the trauma or the pain. If he hadn't stopped... "Yes." His amber gaze was solemn, he closed his eyes, expression filled with sorrow. "I do. But I don't think it matters now." When those eyes opened again they looked up at Grendel, defeated, broken, empty. He'd not only lost his trust in his sire, he'd lost Vadoma as well.

Rares felt the horrors creeping in, trying to convince him this was all a tactic. That the god was playing games, lying to him as well. Father of a liar. He felt like he couldn't trust anything his mind was feeding him. Not his thoughts, not his actions, and now Cryso had been exposed. He was a liability to his sire. That meant he couldn't go home if the deity decided not to kill or confine him. He had nowhere to go.

It was hard for him to believe Grendel when he said it, when he said that Vadoma wouldn't have betrayed him, as his compromised mind refused to let go of the images showing her betrayal clear as day. Yet another part of him, deep down, knew what the god said was true. It was why he had let himself fall for her so quickly. Why he had begun to let her in. Why he was in love with her. The conflict raging within refused to let him settle on either belief for long. Pulling him violently back and forth, overwhelming his ability to control his thoughts.

But something the god said after hit him strongly, calming the seas of his irrational emotional war. It was true. Instead of killing her he had come to the one place he had no intention of setting foot in before, he had come straight to her father. Of course, he had come here to die, but still. Instead of following through, instead of going to his Sire, he had come here to Grendel instead. Why? Was it just to die? Or was it that something deep inside of him knew that something was horribly wrong? He couldnt answer.

"You may be right. But I don't deserve her forgiveness. Not for this. Even if I didnt kill her... I hurt her. I can't forgive myself for scaring her, for making her afraid. She'll always have that memory of me." Whatever the reason, he couldnt expect Vadoma to forgive him. In all honesty she shouldn't. It didnt matter if he was under the influence of a horror. What he'd done was unforgivable. Even if she had once said she didnt believe in unforgivable.

Rares felt a twinge of fear at the idea of the god slipping into his mind again, only for a moment, before the process began. At first his blood tie to Cryso struggled against the infiltration, the horror pushing full force as it sensed its time drawing to a premature end. Rares fought until the pain began to overwhelm him again, but a soft vibration deep in his gut pulled his focus away from the fight. For a moment he felt like Vadoma was close, the vampire stopped struggling. Keeping his attention on that feeling. As he the weight of the horror lifted he felt exhausted. His thoughts were a haze, grief, anger, loss, sadness... and for the first time in his life regret.

The more his head started to feel clearer, the more unbearable the weight of what had almost happened became for the male. What now? He couldnt go home, he still felt unstable, he was torn in so many directions as the false memories faded away and the influence subsided. Everything in him wanted to find Vadoma and apologize, even though he didnt expect her to want to see or hear him. The other part of him didnt want to put himself anywhere near her. It would probably only hurt her more, what if his presence alone frightened her? He couldn't do that to her.

Deep within him the fires of his anger had begun to spring to life, fanned by the knowledge that he had been deceived. His own Sire had betrayed him. Even if Vadoma believed in forgiveness, he did not. Not for something like this. "What now?" Rares asked the god, the pain and rage in his eyes stronger. He needed time to... let his brain settle, to get himself together. He'd never been in a state like this before and adding love into it was uncharted territory. He'd never been in love before, let alone tried to harm someone he actually cared about.