The Vampire King's Possession
Chapter 631. Low Blow

Chapter 631: 631. Low Blow

Jael’s eyes blazed as he slowly stood to his feet. His jaw was tightly clenched and his hair was undone. He looked like he wanted to punch Louis again but held back, undoing his fist and starting to walk away from Louis, who was still spread out on the floor with his ax next to him. Jael dropped his ax to the ground, and it bounced on the grass before laying flat.

Louis laughed and slowly sat up. He gently touched his nose and grimaced in pain. "You broke it!" he yelled at Jael, who was stomping forward.

"You’re lucky that’s all I broke!" Jael replied, his voice didn’t hide his anger. "Next time, you’d know better than to do this."

Louis spat blood. "Perhaps, next time, you’ll be able to withstand my strikes," he taunted, his smug voice as clear as day.

Jael stopped but didn’t turn around. Instead, he curled and uncurled his fist before marching forward.

The vampires cleared a path for him; they all knew better than to stand in his way. He lifted his right hand and stared at it. The ax had felt right and familiar, but all he could do was protect himself.

He stared out to where Mauve stood with Danag. She looked worried, her palms clasped in front of her, and he wondered if she had seen the fight, if she had heard what Louis said.

He did lose the fight; he would never admit it, but if he hadn’t done that, Louis would have sent out an attack he wouldn’t have been able to defend. It shouldn’t have been so hard, but it was. The ax felt like his arm had been lengthened, but at the same time, it felt as though someone added weights to it. It wasn’t heavy; he was just slow.

His hands have worked fine so far. Ripping Palers apart did the job just fine, but he would be lying if he said the ax wasn’t faster. He had abandoned the ax because he didn’t need it. Now, he couldn’t even use it. It was embarrassing.

"Sire," Danag said with a bow. Jael didn’t miss the smile on his face. Apparently, he was the only one not enjoying this.

Jael turned his gaze to Mauve, who rushed to him and stood on her toes. "You’re bleeding," she whispered, her eyes glued to his cheek. He could smell the worry and fear on her.

"I am not," he replied, sounding harsher than he intended.

"You are." She reached for his cheek, and he stiffened. She stopped but only briefly before wiping the blood off. Her hand felt warm against his cheeks, and he wanted her to keep it there, but she pulled her hand away.

"It’s not worth worrying about. It will heal before the next meal is over." This was true, he could already feel it healed. There should be no trace of it by the last meal.

Mauve nodded, wiping the stain of the blood on her dress. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"No," he lied. She must have not noticed he was bleeding even worse from his side. If she didn’t see it, he wasn’t about to tell her.

She smiled at him. "That’s good. How’s Louis?" she asked as she poked her head to the side, trying to look at Louis.

"He will need at least the whole night to heal if he doesn’t drink blood."

Mauve gasped and poked her head back. "What did you do?" she asked.

"He broke my nose," Louis responded, and Mauve saw he was right behind Jael. His palm was over his nose, and his voice sounded funny.

"You didn’t?"

Jael shrugged and grabbed her arm. "That’s enough for one night. You should go in."

Mauve wanted to argue, but she must have seen something in his eyes because she simply waved to Louis and whispered, "Sorry about your nose."

Louis gave her a bloody smile. It was easy to see as his front teeth didn’t look so white. Jael tugged her and turned forward, walking in step with him. He didn’t say anything as they walked, and Mauve didn’t know what to make of the situation.

He won, right? But why was he acting more moody than Louis? Mauve hadn’t been able to see most of the fight, and Danag had simply ranted about how happy he was that Jael was using the ax. All she had seen was Louis flying to the ground and Jael going down with him.

She peeked at him and looked away when he noticed her stare. Mauve looked down to her feet and repeated the act again.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Nothing," she mumbled. "Are you angry?"

"Is that what it looks like?" he asked, his palm tightening around her wrist a little.

Mauve nodded. "Is it because Louis made you fight him? And maybe the fact that I agreed?"

"I am not angry at you. I could never be angry at you. I am just irritated and annoyed about the situation. It’s not for you to worry about."

He looked down at her with what he hoped was a smile, and Mauve beamed at him, but he could tell she wasn’t completely satisfied, and he couldn’t blame her. He lied when he said he wasn’t angry; Jael was infuriated.

It had taken everything not to keep punching Louis after what he said, but he knew he would be directing his anger in the wrong direction. It was petty of Louis, a low blow, and it had been intentional. He was angry that Jael kicked his foot right from under him.

Jael wasn’t that angry about what was said; he was more angry by the fact that it wasn’t a lie. He didn’t need the ax, but what if he did and it turned out he couldn’t use it?

Mauve clung to him as if to distract him from his thoughts, grabbing his arm that held her as they went up the stairs. Her smell, her warmth, and presence overwhelmed him. Jael knew he would protect her with his life.