Day in and day out he was left wallowing in his physical pain, and starvation.
“We so rarely get to test the limits of a vampire's thirst. You have curbed yours well. But let’s see when even your will breaks. Saint,” the bishop scuffed at the title. Kaz curled into the corner shaking from a week of hunger. His own flesh littered the ground from beatings. Anger seethed beneath his surface and poured out of his gaze.
No windows let it any sort of breeze. He sat on the cold floor and looked up seeing the face of his wife. If only he could call out to her. His hand reached and the image burst alongside that of his children.
His clan raced through his mind. Out there alone and separate. But they could stand on their own. Memories of his past haunted him. His clan's betrayal. Mankind that had stabbed him in the back. Left him for dead and took away his first happiness. Made an outcast until he found a new home.
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