The Vampire Prince's Toxic Consort (BL)

Lucius took some time to fret about his appearance before the Last Rite he was about to perform. Werewolves managed to find some items that were usually used in such rituals, including a Scripture, some holy waters and incense. They even found him priest attires, but since he had already married and supposedly no longer a priest, he didn’t put them on.

He chose a white shirt and white pants and twined the rosary with the Sacred Eye symbol on his wrist. He looked into the mirror and practiced his expressions and gestures while reciting some psalms. He knew it was all in vain. There was no way that he could cure an incurable disease.

The young werewolf’s name was Anton, and he was only eighteen years old. He caught the fatal disease while trying to rescue a beta mother and her omega son when a frenzied alpha attacked them. He killed the alpha in the process, assuming he was just a robber, not knowing that the man had werewolf rabies and was in the infectious stage. And most unfortunate of all, though most of the werewolves received vaccination against the disease since they were very young, this particular string was new, and a rare vaccine breakthrough happened.

Currently, Anton was in the third stage, during which he was still very violent and had to be restrained on the bed with chains and straps to stop him from attacking others. No point in giving him any food or water at this point since he would probably succumb to the virus within a week.

The whole city-state of The Guardian was praying for the courageous young worrier, and today they would all witness the “miracle maker” making an attempt.

Lucius contemplated if losing the werewolf’s restrain and letting Anton bite off his face would be a quicker way to end all these messes. But he rejected the idea immediately since it was still too much pain and too nasty a way to go.

“Are you ready?” Dorian knocked on the door.

Lucius opened the bedroom door. Dorian was surprised at how pale Lucius was.This text is © NôvelDrama/.Org.

“Are you ok?”

“Yes. I’m just nervous.“Lucius pulled the corner of his lips and smiled worse than crying, “it’s not going to be a pleasant experience.”

“Don’t be afraid. I will tell Volke that you lost your ability when you married me. He will understand.“Dorian whispered.

Lucius only shook his head, “this will still elicit doubts about my identity since everyone knows Julian has a twin brother. Even if you don’t want to stir anything up, some people in Eternia court will definitely dig into it, trying to restart the invasion of Anthor and undermine your image. Meanwhile, my country will have to address this issue since people in Anthor cannot lose faith in the savior and prophet, and they won’t hesitate to make me a scapegoat.”

“It won’t come to that.“Dorian said firmly, “I won’t let it.”

“Even you are not omnipotent, my dear husband.” Lucius sighed exhaustively, “but let’s hope you are right.”

As Lucius expected, the praying crowd had jammed the roads in front of the hospital. People moved to the said and gave way to their car, and many eyes full of hope, doubt, misgiving, and curiosity glanced over Lucius as the car went by.

The doctor and nurses met him outside the room. Cold sweat made Lucius’s hand clammy, and he hoped the doctor didn’t notice it when they shook hands.

Volke arrived shortly after, along with his sister and brother-in-law. The parents of Anton looked calm and composed, though their bloodshot eyes bespoke their careworn hearts.

A chilling howl interrupted their introduction, angry and fraught with agony and torment. If banshees indeed exist, they probably sound exactly like this.

Volke opened the door when no others were willing to, and a rancid stench assailed Lucius’s olfactory sensors. It smelled like a maggot crawling, decomposing carcass that had been rotting for days in the most sweltering summer. Many people couldn’t help but draw back instinctively, wanting to cover their noses but didn’t dare to.

It was a very spacious room. Aside from some destroyed medical equipment and broken leather straps strewed on the floor, a sturdy metal bed was nailed to the floor, and a big figure was strapped with a row of silver chains. It looked like a werewolf in his wolf form, but the dark gray hair was shedding everywhere, revealing his blister-covered, half-rotten body. His skin was peeling off in many places as if it could no longer stay on his body. Blood and pus drenched the sheet.

And yet his irises were bloody and blazing, full of rage and thirst for blood. You could no longer find any light of consciousness or a soul in those irises. The only thing left was an impulse to attack and destroy.

Some guards carrying guns with silver bullets were called in for Lucius’s protection. Dorian, Volke, the parents, doctors, and nurses all stood at some distance, observing in safety. And the only one allowed to be near the moribund werewolf was Lucius.

Lucius mustered up his guts and took the first step. He came to the side of the bed, try not to vomit from what he saw.

Wouldn’t it be more merciful to just...end his suffering?

Anton bared his bloody teeth at Lucius and made some strange gurgling sound, and the malodor was so strong that Lucius had to hold his breath.

“Anton? Can you hear me?” Lucius asked gently.

The werewolf answered with an even louder roar, and albeit bound by silver chains which were supposed to repress his strength and burn him if he struggled too harshly, he lifted his head and tried to bite Lucius. The chains were strained by his force and some of the links distorted.

Lucius flinched reflectively and decided to keep some distance. He saw Dorian move toward him in his peripheral sight and raised his hand, signaling Dorian not to worry.

He lit up the incense, using willow twigs dipped in the holy water, but before tossing the droplets over the werewolf, Lucius suddenly remembered that patients with rabies often developed an acute phobia of water in their later stages. He considered it for a few seconds and decided to skip the ablution step. He then kneeled next to the bed, still keeping some distance, opened the Scripture, holding the rosary toward Anton, and began to recite the prayers.

It was a long, tedious, and almost boring process.

Lucius had memorized the prayers since the day he made that deal with Volke, so the Scripture was more for the purpose of holy presence. His voice seemed to agitate the young werewolf, and he struggled violently against the chains. But as Lucius repeated the whole Last Rite prayer for the third time, he seemed quieted down.

For about three hours, Lucius didn’t stop to drink water and just kept praying. At first, the words still felt strange and dry in his mouth, but as he closed his eyes and said them more and more times, he began to hope that perhaps God, if he really exists, could hear his prayer if he was praying hard enough.

If there is a God, he could save both Anton and him with just a little bit of miracle. It wasn’t too much to ask, right? He talked to Julian all the time, and Lucius just wanted this one favor, and he would promise to be the most pious believer after this.

If the mind could externalize into physical movements, then Lucius exerted all his strength. His brows were knitted together, his lips moved fast, and he gradually went off the script.

“Dear lord, have mercy on this honorable soul. He is still a child. He did a good thing, saving the vulnerable from an already dead man. Don’t take him away from his parents. He does not deserve such a fate. Please help him, please help him, please help him...”

Lucius never knew he could pray with such sincerity. Perhaps it was desperation. But he tried all kinds of tactics in his mind. Bargaining, begging, berating, apologizing...But none worked. He heard nothing, felt nothing. He was not his brother, after all.

As more hours went by, Lucius’s throat was on fire, and his kneeling legs had already passed the hurting stage and entered the numbing phase. Many people waiting outside had gone home, and even the parents had to leave to take a break and return later.

“How long will this keep going? You are asking too much!” Dorian whispered to Volke.

“It took him almost twelve hours to heal that little girl last time,” Volke said curtly, “I won’t be surprised if it’s going to take longer.”

“I understand it is painful to lose someone you love. I lost my mother, and I knew it all too well. But don’t tell me you are so into your own head and reject the reality to the extent that you even believe their God will save your nephew. Don’t forget we are all the damned ones in their God’s eyes.”

“You consort agreed to this.” Volke answered coldly, “if he stops and admits failure, I won’t force him to go on. But you may want to consider if he really is who he claims to be.”

Dorian glared at him warningly, but Volke only returned a toothful smile.

Couple more hours elapsed, and Lucius began to despair. Was there really any point in keeping going? He knew he couldn’t succeed, and Dorian knew it too. It was nothing surprising.

There were still many ways he could say to explain himself away. He could say it was God’s intention to collect this young man’s soul early. He could blame it all on God’s will.

He was about to end the rite and stood up, but his legs buckled under him as he had been kneeling for too long. And as he stumbled forward, the reposing werewolf suddenly opened his eyes and lunged up. His baring muscles tensed up to the extreme, and instantly the silver chains all distorted and broke.

It all happened so fast and without any warning, and Lucius was too close to Anton for any guard or Dorian to come to rescue him. He heard Dorian’s shout and people’s cries of shock as he watched the deformed giant werewolf pouncing at him, all blood-seeking fangs baring. Lucius closed his eyes in horror and screamed in his mind at the last moment.

“You said you would help me when God doesn’t listen! Now I’m praying to you! Save me!”

And then, for a short second, all sound ceased. Even the air stood still as if frozen in time. Lucius once again felt that hot, scorching breath and heard that ominous, sinister voice whisper in his ear, “as you wish.”

Lucius didn’t dare to open his eyes immediately, but the imminent pain and death didn’t land. He heard people’s exclamation and murmuring, full of astonishment but no longer urgent.

Lucius gingerly cracked his eyelid and then widened his eyes completely. All thoughts paused in his mind.

The werewolf was kneeling before him, looking delirious and confused, gradually returning to his human form. The red in his eyes was rapidly subsiding, the blisters and rotting patches were shrinking, and new tissues were growing appreciably. He went from zombie-like walking dead to a handsome young man within a few brief minutes.

Anton looked at his own hand and then looked up at Lucius, then he inquired in perplexity, “who are you?”