The Vampire Prince's Toxic Consort (BL)

Dorian only saw his mother use her gift when he was a vampling, and he often wondered why she never taught him her power.

“Asmodian has a much stronger connection with his scions than any other Elders, and the more we use his power, the stronger the connection is. He will slowly get a hold of your mind, control your thoughts, and it is too dangerous.” Mitra used to tell her curious son while holding him on her lap.

Little Dorian was confused, “but isn’t it a good thing? That we have a stronger connection with our Elder?”

“Sometimes, good or bad is not a definite thing, and something to some people is good, to others is bad.” Mitra said affectionately, “my Elder does not like this world. He always wants to change it. By using his power, he will grow stronger and stronger, and he will be able to re-enter our world to change it to his liking and make it his possession. But mommy like this world, so to mommy, it is not a good thing.”

Growing up, Dorian heard many tales about how powerful his mother used to be before she married his father. The rare Asmodian scions were known for their ability of metamorphosis. Most of Asmodian’s apostles were either shapeshifters or alchemists. The former are adept at changing their own body, while the latter can transform others’. But Mitra was known to be a grand master in both arts, and she could even transform herself into transcendental entities, like one of the Elders. And the transformation was not only limited to appearance. Legend said she was even able to acquire the Elder’s power and abilities while assuming the form.

But for some cryptic reason, Mitra vowed never to use her power again when she knew she was with a child. And the only time she broke her vow was when she used her power to shapeshift Dorian into a human so he could escape when the Silverkeep was breached.

And some months later, after Dorian met Julian and learned about Julian’s prophetic ability and vision about the future, his mother’s words began to make sense. And he started to understand why his mother told him never to try to use Asmodian’s gift.

Everyone thought Dorian didn’t inherit his mother’s ability, but the truth was he had been repressing it. By never trying to tap into the gift, he thought he had severed his connection with Asmodian.

But what if he learned to use it? What if he could transform into an Elder temporarily like his mother did and avenge everything his father had done to his mother and him?

Was the cost too huge to justify the end? But did this world truly deserve their bloodline’s sacrifice?

Dorian wondered as he stood forlornly in the chapel, gazing at Asmodian’s smiling, lifeless eyes. Ere long, he took a few steps closer to the statue. At the bottom of the pedestal, inscribed a hymn to Asmodian in Old Persian. Dorian bit on his finger and smudged his blood on several seemingly randomly chosen cuneiforms. As he was doing it, his mother’s warning came to his mind.

“Only use it when you have no other choice.”

Well...his only two other choices now were to self-exile or divorce Lucius, and he wouldn’t choose any of them.

As he finished, an eerie silence befell the dilapidated chapel as if time suddenly froze. The statue’s eyes glowed briefly, and one of the numerous snakes behind the Elder began to move and squirm, and the stone scales transformed into obsidian scales. The black snake sibilated and slithered over the statue’s shoulder, its beady eyes stared at Dorian, studying him, and for a brief second, Dorian saw recognition. And suddenly, it fell down to the ground, and the moment it touched the earth, the snake transformed into a scroll.

No doubt, it was his mother’s magic. Dorian sighed morosely as his mother’s vestigial existence in this world diminished more with the magic being activated.

It was a map and a key to the secret Aslani Sanctuary, where his mother’s ancestors worshiped Asmodian. Only people of the family were allowed to enter, and allegedly, Asmodian would appear in front of them if they made a sacrifice that pleased him.

Albeit his mother had warned him about the danger of contacting Asmodian, it may be his best shot at finding an Elder at the moment.

He picked up the scroll and left the chapel.

“Remember that honeymoon that we said we would go on someday?”

Lucius looked up from his phone in surprise. He was reading a news article about some underground gambling ring opening a bet on when the king would depose the current crown prince.

“Huh?”

Dorian closed the door behind him and said, “that someday is going to come much sooner.”

“You want to go on a honeymoon now?” Lucius looked at him as if he was out of his mind, “when everyone is waiting for you to make a mistake and be deposed?”

“Staying here is not going to help.” Dorian sat across from him and put the scroll on the coffee table, “we are going to Esmore, the land of my mother’s ancestors.”

Lucius eyed the scroll with curiosity, “and what is this?”

“This is a map to the Aslani family’s Sanctuary. Historically, when the family members were persecuted, it was where they went to seek for Asmodian’s guidance. We will try to find it.”

Lucius widened his eyes incredulously, “you mean...you can contact your Elder there? Why didn’t you say anything a month ago when Darius mentioned Elder blood!”

“I have my own reasons. I was hoping Darius could find another Elder. But we are running out of time, and with Archie returning, the situation has escalated.” Dorian couldn’t risk letting Lucius stay in a court with his more despicable stepbrother. With him losing his grip on the court, who knew what would happen to Lucius? He couldn’t bear the thought of Lucius being assaulted by Archie again.

However, he didn’t want to worry Lucius more than he already was.

Lucius wasn’t so sure about it, especially when he heard that they would try to contact Asmodian. For some obscure reason, the Serpent Elder made him anxious.

But he trusted Dorian, and so, he decided to follow him wherever he went.

“Who will come with us?”

“I will bring several guards that I trust to accompany us when we travel there. We need to keep our true purpose a secret, and only tell others that we are going for the missed Honeymoon.”

“Can I bring Buck?”

Dorian hesitated, but eventually he nodded, “we will have to unchip him first, otherwise anyone could have forced him to divulge our true destination. I will arrange for it as soon as possible.”

Their chance finally presented itself on Eternia Day. The whole Royal Family would attend the ancestry worshiping ceremony, and Dorian, though his position was no longer as solid as before, would still preside over it with his father, as he was still the Crown Prince.

However, as a human, Lucius’s presence was not so essential. He let Dorian drink a considerable amount of blood, then took a long agonizing cold shower and successfully fell ill two days prior.

The servants dutifully reported the illness to Devina, and the news soon spread to the whole court. As his “symptoms kept worsening,” he was allowed to stay in his apartment to rest. On Eternia Day, Dorian arranged for him to see the doctor, though he couldn’t accompany him due to his duties.

They expected most of Devina and Silvan’s spies would focus on Dorian’s activities on that day, as they knew Lucius was very ill.

Before leaving, Dorian cleared the room, closed the door and came to the bed, where Lucius lay resting. He gently brushed away a strand of hair from his consort’s hot red cheek.

“Are you sure you can do it?” Dorian said worriedly.

Lucius smiled and gave him a thumbs up, “I’m feeling much better. This red on my face is mainly painted.” He chuckled a bit, “luckily, you vampire men don’t have the stigma of using makeup, and there is some blush readily available in the drawer.”

“But your fever hasn’t completely gone yet.” Dorian put a hand on his forehead, “don’t do anything stupid, ok? If it’s too much, just come back.”

“Just go, don’t worry about me. I’m not a fragile vase.“Lucius rolled his eyes as if Dorian was making a big deal out of it.

Dorian took one of his rings off, took Lucius’s left hand, and put it on Lucius’s finger, “I have asked an enchanter to put a protective rune on it. If something happens, and you end up alone in a crowd, it will be harder for vampires to smell your human blood.”

Lucius studied the ring, which happened to be on his ring finger. A beautiful ruby glistened mystically under the dim light like blood swirling inside.

Lucius knew vampires never had the custom of gifting rings to betrothed or spouses. But this gave him the illusion that the ring meant more than just protection. And it made his heart ache.

“Thank you. I will make sure I wear it.”

Dorian’s lip corners raised up a little. He squeezed Lucius’s hand once more and left the room. Lucius’s smile dissolved from his face when he closed the door.

Florian soon came in and asked, “I retrieved the blood from the garden. Do you want to carry it?”

“Yes. Give it to me.”

Florian took out the small vial of Durchville Witch’s blood from his pocket. Lucius held it in his palm. The cool glass felt like hot red iron that burnt his skin.

He would betray Dorian today by sending out the vial, and there would be no turning back. After this, Dorian would never forgive him.

“Are you having second thoughts?” Florian asked calmly, though Lucius could hear the disapproval beneath the composure, “don’t forget what he has done to our people. He was the one who led the army and slaughtered countless soldiers of your country.”

“I know...” Lucius said quietly.

But Dorian was the only person that made him felt...alive, seen and cared for. He was the only person who asked what he wanted for his birthday.

He tied a string on the vial and hung it over his head, then got out of bed and began to dress. Lucius’s body was still lethargic and sore after two days of fever, but he would have to exert it furthermore today. He avoided Florian’s gaze and tried to sound confident, “don’t worry about my task. How are you feeling? Nervous? Regret?”

“I can’t wait to get the damn chip out of my head. Even if I’m killed in the process.“He said with a cold ire as he helped Lucius to put on the trench coat. It was early autumn, and the wind began to feel chilly.

Lucius took a deep breath and said, “well then, let’s get on with it.”

Things went well and smoothly for the first part of their plan. Dorian’s trusted bodyguards escorted them to a private hospital, and only Florian accompanied him into a royal ward. A vampire doctor, Lydia Hagan, was waiting inside. She was Dorian’s personal doctor since he was fifty years old, and Dorian trusted her with his life.

Everyone else except Dorian, Lucius and Florian believed Lydia was doing some exams on Lucius, but the truth was that she was going to perform the critical but relatively fast cerebral implant removal surgery on Florian in the ward with the help of an AI assistant.Content is © by NôvelDrama.Org.

Lydia quickly administered the anesthetic to Florian. Lucius saw a slight trace of nervousness flicker in the man’s eyes. He silently squeezed Florian’s arm to offer some, trying to give him some support and comfort. Upon feeling Lucius’s presence, the ex-hunter calmed down quickly and gradually fell into oblivion.

After ensuring that Florian’s vital signs were stable, Lydia told the guards outside that Lucius had some lung infection and it would take longer than they initially estimated. This would buy them enough time to finish the procedure.

As she was focusing on Florian, Lucius excused himself into the washroom, leaving his phone, which was likely to be used to trace his location, in the washroom, and crawled out of the window. Luckily the ward was on the second floor, and Lucius, with the help of his climbing experiences, successively and quietly landed behind some bushes. He had researched the fastest and safest route from the hospital to the post office, where the deposit box was located a day before, so he knew exactly where he had to go next.

He took a mask out of the inner pocket of his trench coat and quickly put it on. Then he pulled up the coat collar and swiftly submerged himself into the darkness of the early night.