His little sister. His fragile angel. He could remember the very day he met her.
She was no royal. Just a starving, fragile stray vampire he found on the road one lonely night.
Late into the night, the road devoid of cars and pedestrians, a limited edition limousine skimmed along the countryside.
Its sleek white design, sharp and pristine, was a far cry from the shadows covering the road.
A young girl of about five years was seen by the side of the road, whimpering and shivering from the cold.
The limousine slowed down and pulled up beside the girl. The driver turned off the engine and came down from the car.
He was dressed in black.
He had a very fit build and looked... fierce. He went around the car towards the passenger seat and opened the door.
A young man stepped out of the car. He was dressed in a corporate attire, latest Armani suit edition.
He wore dark glasses over his eyes—a very fitting match to his black suit. His raven-black hair was styled neatly to match his attire.
He had an aura around him that screamed a single word:
Mysterious.
He walked towards the little girl, who shook, shivered, and whimpered, moving back until she had her back against a tree.
The man bent down and looked at the girl in the face.
"Why are you out here alone?"
The girl didn't respond; she just looked at him, nothing but fear and curiosity in her eyes.
Slowly and shakily, she responded with a timid voice.
"Who are you?"
"I am Rasmus," he responded softly.
"What are you doing out here?"
"I come from the Silverblade clan. My family was attacked by some rogues. They killed my mum and my dad." She broke into tears. She managed to get a hold of herself in a short while.
Sniffing, she continued, "I don't know how I got here either, but I've been here for days, scavenging all I could find."
The Silverblade clan. I didn't get a report about any rogue attacking the Silverblade clan, Rasmus thought.
He stared at her, pity evident in his eyes.
"I'm so sorry for your loss. Do you mind coming home with me so you can wash the dirt off your skin and we can know what to do about you and your... situation?"
"Nope, Momma said not to trust strangers," she said, then buried her head in her knees, her knees curling into a fetal position.
"OK then." He got up and stretched his wrinkled shirt. Turning, he faced the guard behind him.
"Lucas, get me two flasks of blood—the ones meant for me."
"But... Your Highness..."
"But what?" He said, his gaze turning cold and his voice sounding sharp, the tone icy.
"But why do you care so much for a stranger you just met?"
Thud! A slap met his face. He raised his hands to his lips and wiped his face. When he brought his hands to his face, he saw blood.
"Do not question my orders ever again, Lucas," Rasmus said.
Lucas looked at Rasmus, no expression evident in his face... just surrender.
"Yes, my lord."
He headed for the driver's seat and got out with two flasks in his hands.
He gave Rasmus the flasks, who responded with a nod of his head.
Rasmus walked forward towards the girl and crouched down. He placed the flasks on the ground.
Removing his glasses, he exhaled deeply, his ocean-blue eyes looking as calm as the sea.
"Take this, and eat." He pointed towards the flask which he placed by her side. "You need to be strong, 'cause surviving out here like this ain't gonna be easy."
The girl looked at Rasmus, and the flask. Looking back at Rasmus, she nodded timidly.
"So, little angel, what's your name?" Rasmus asked.
"Ariana," she said, slightly shivering but no longer as wary of him as before.
"OK then, Ariana, I'll be on my way. Be sure to take care of yourself."
Standing up to leave, he turned towards Lucas.
"Get in the car."
Lucas opened the passenger door for his prince.
As Rasmus was about to enter the car, she suddenly called out.
"Wait."
It was barely a whisper.
But it was enough for Rasmus's heightened senses to pick up.
He turned back to face her.
"Please take... take... take me with you," she said, sobbing, tears rolling down her eyes.
He walked forward to meet her.
"Are you sure?"
She nodded profusely.
The pictures faded into nothingness in his head and yet another memory invaded his mind.
This time it was in the basement, the workout area... exactly where he was right now.
She was twelve now, a far cry from the timid, fragile girl he saw that night in the countryside.
She was wearing his gloves, two sizes bigger than hers.
Dressed in a tight combat suit, she looked small... but mighty.
"You swing your hands like a human," Rasmus said to Ariana.
"No I don't. I'm no human."
Her punch barely nudged the bag, but her smile lit up the room.
"Shut up," he said, grinning, mostly at himself.
"You're gonna break your wrist punching like that."
She shrugged.
"Only if I hit something worth hitting."
"What's worth hitting, if I must ask?"
"The face of that asshole who killed my parents."
"Revenge is not the way, my little angel," he said.
"I know, but I can't just help it."
"Don't worry anymore, Arriana. You have a family with me now."
"I know, big brother," she said and walked towards him, then hugged him.
Big brother.
She called me big brother, he thought.
Rasmus's fingers curled tighter, blood and sweat cooling on his skin.
Tears slid down his face; he whimpered and shook.
"Fuck that bitch. I'm going to get you back, Ariana, no matter the cost," he said, a determined look on his face.
Angry and frustrated, he headed for the door.
I need to clear my head, he thought, removing his car key from his pockets.