A Bastard's Allure-Chapter 137: Language And Blood

Brandon’s fist clenched the glass of blood in his hand so hard it’d break any moment from now. His eyes were fixated on the entrance of his tent, slightly narrowed. The tension so thick one would cut it with a knife. They said there was nothing like an angry royal vampire.

Tieron walked in, his hands rested on his back. The smirk, usually on his face, was quick to disappear when his eyes locked with Brandon’s.

Slamming his fists against the table, Brandon stood. His long claws had now dug into his palms. Drops of his own blood trickled down the table as he stared daggers at his uncle.

"He was mine to torture. I made it clear no one else was to touch yet you went ahead and defied my order, uncle?" His eyes were never leaving his.

Tieron’s lips twitched. Not because Brandon was mad at him, but because he referred to him as uncle. He took a step forward when the vampires present snarled, their hands on the hilt of their swords.

"Don’t tell me you’re affectionate of your half brother, Your Majesty?" Tieron asked. "This is the same man who is standing between you and your legit claim to the Eldorian throne. The sooner we get rid of him, the better.

I was merely being Your Majesty’s humble servant."

"I gave a direct order yet you defied it! How do I know you’re not conspiring against me behind my back. You did it during father’s day, you can do it again."

Tieron took another step closer but the vampires were on high alert. His lips parted to say something but no words seemed to form. Maybe only the truth would set him free this time.

"If I may have a private audience with His Majesty," he said, looking at the guards.

"So that you can kill me," Brandon stated.

"Trust me, if I wanted to kill you, this tent would be the last place I’d think of. And so is killing you."

Brandon unclenched his fists and sat down taking a sip of the blood in his glass before setting it on the table.

"I will forever keep your council at heart, uncle. Without you, we could not have achieved yesterday’s feat. But I do not trust you anymore. For defying my orders, you’ve been hereby banished from Eldoria and all the lands surrounding it, just like my father did to you."

"You cannot do this to me!" Tieron angrily replied.

"You should be grateful I didn’t sentence you to death," Brandon said. And gesturing to his guards, "Take him away."

Two guards walked behind him and held him. But before Tieron could be taken away, he added.

"Maybe one last piece of advice before I go," he said.

"Please," Brandon said, wiping the blood on edge of his lips with his thumb, "do tell."

"Do you know why I tortured him? His face reminded me of Tieron and I couldn’t bear looking at it and not exact revenge for what he did to me years ago."

"Is that a threat?" Brandon asked.

"Watching him scream as I twisted his guts gave me more satisfaction than advicing you."

Brandon slammed his fists on the table before walking around to meet with Tieron’s face.

"I, too, I’m my father’s son. Did you walk around everyday, beside me, thinking of how you’d twist my insides?"

"Of that I had no intention, son. Hurting you was the last thing I had on my mind, despite your hotheadedness."

Brandon’s lips twisted in disgust before he landed a punch on Tieron’s stomach.

"How dare you call me son, uncle?" He asked. He tilted his head by grabbing his lowered head, forcing Tieron to look at him. His teeth were now bloodied. But instead of feeling the pain, Tieron was grinning.

"Didn’t your mother tell you?" He asked, his grin widening when he saw confusion build on Brandon’s face.

"Take him out of my face," Brandon ordered. He smoothened his hair with his hands as he watched Tieron being dragged away.

’Didn’t your mother tell you?’ The question started echoing in his mind like a siren call he couldn’t ignore.

Or maybe he was just bluffing? If what Tieron said were to be true, it only meant Brandon was the bastard and Gabriel the legitimate heir. The thought challenged everything he had built, but he was not willing to believe it. Tieron knew how to play the game and Brandon was not going to fall for his antics.

Drowning the remaining blood in his glass, he ordered, "Bring Gabriel." Minutes later, Gabriel was brought, chained from arms to legs. His face had lost color, probably due to yester night’s blood loss. His tussled hair hid the better part of his face, but there was no mistaking the hatred in those golden orbs.

"Leave us," Brandon instructed. The knights exchanged glances and it was until Brandon gave them a deathly stare did they leave.

"You might want to take a seat," he told a standing Gabriel. "Blood for my brother."

A servant walked in with two glasses and poured the blood in each before she fled to wherever she came from. Gabriel was still standing, his eyes never leaving Brandon’s.

"You’re starting to give me the creeps," Brandon admitted as he nervously took a sip of the fresh blood. Gabriel didn’t move an inch.

"My uncle was of the idea that we attack Mysthaven now that their defenses are weakened and wipe out the entire human species from existence.

I refused. If we were to kill all the humans, where would we get this?" He asked, raising his glass of blood as if to propose a toast. Gabriel only gave him a deathly stare.

"Father would be proud of me if he saw this. Me, talking to you over a glass of blood. To great achievements," he raised a toast to himself and drank all the blood in one go.

"It was never a good idea talking to you, you know. It appears the only language you understand is blood. You leave me with no other choice."