"No way, is that Silia in the dining hall?" Asen asked playfully, giving a shocked expression as the girl entered the space. She rolled her eyes at him, realizing it was only the two of them.

"Am I not allowed in here, Asen?" She asked, fake concern matching the tone of her voice from the encounter.

"Well, I'll never be the one chasing you." He smirked, sitting down with his plate. Vampires obviously fed from blood, but it's not like they wouldn't appreciate a sweet treat then and there. It simply had no nutritious purpose whatsoever.

As she sat next to him, he immediately tucks on her sleeve to look over her shoulder. "Still deep, huh?" He smiled, almost proud at the sight.

Silia immediately slapped his hand, putting her sleeve back in place. The two had been fighting yesterday in the afternoon, and yet, the wound was still nowhere near healed on the girl. "Go to hell." She muttered, sucking on the blood bag in her hand.

"You'll probably get there before me." He snorted, leaning back in his seat.

"I'm still alive, aren't I?" She smiled ironically.

"For now." He added, "I guess."

"Wonder who'll get me first, you or my disease." She asked, surprisingly serious.

"I'd like to think me." He smiled as she grimaced, sticking out her tongue.

Asen chuckled at Silia's grimace, his eyes gleaming with that familiar mix of amusement and cruelty. "What's the matter, cousin? Can't stomach the thought of me getting there before your little sickness does?"

Silia rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair. "Please. You've been trying for years, just like everyone else. Haven't managed it yet, have you?"

He raised an eyebrow, unfazed by her taunt. "Maybe I'm just waiting for the right moment. You know I enjoy taking my time."

Silia snorted, finishing off her blood bag with a careless toss. "Or maybe you just like watching me suffer."

Asen paused for a moment, letting silence fell upon the two. "You're right." He stated, almost confirming he had been debating within himself her last sentence. "I do enjoy that."

"Lucky me." She ironized, raising her hands as if to celebrate.

"I won't ever kill you." He went on, "Because I'll never get bored of torturing you." He smiled, proud of his reflection.

Silia brought her face closer to his, letting her words be heard carefully, "Neither will I."

His eyes darkened slightly, though the smirk never left his face. "Is that a challenge?" Asen's fingers drummed on the table, his gaze never leaving hers. "Careful, Silia. You wouldn't want to give me ideas."

"Do your worst." She teased.

They sat in silence again for a moment, the tension between them thick but familiar. It was always like this—circling each other, trading barbs, neither willing to back down until one of them— always Silia, gets hurt. There was a twisted comfort in it, at least, for her.

She hated as much as she loved those kinds of interactions, the only ones she had, really. It made her feel as if people somewhat cared of her. Or maybe it was just her mind comforting her within her own misery, who knows.

Asen opened his mouth to retort, but before he could, the doors to the dining hall swung open, and a familiar figure entered. Meyena.

Her entrance was dramatic, her posture perfect, and her green eyes scanning the room with a calculating gaze. She was the epitome of grace and control, yet there was a mocking glint mixed with annoyance in her eyes when she saw Silia and Asen.

"Why, if it isn't my favorite cousins," Meyena said in a fake cheerful tone. "How lovely to see you both... bonding." She went on, coming closer to the two.

Asen rolled his eyes, annoyance clear upon his face as well. "Meyena." Silia half greeted, mirroring Asen's reaction.

"I've met your slave." She stated.

"Good." Silia said, interrogation filling her tone. "And?"

"He's a beauty." She added, looking at her nails.

"Too bad Seyan and Ivan roughed him up..." She went on. "His face is not as cute, now." She explained, sadness taking over her expression. Silia frowned.

"They what?"

"Yeah... They were like, "Show us some respect." and he was like "Fuck you.", well he didn't actually say that, but you know... It was obvious." She said, her tone still the same but a small smile appearing.

Silia's fist tightened as Meyena's words sank in. Anger flashed in her eyes, but before she could fully process the news, she shot up from her seat, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. Without a word, she stormed out of the dining hall, her pace quick and purposeful as she headed towards her quarters.

"Now she's mad, fuck off Mey." Asen sighed, his tone a mix of anger and disappointment that their banter came to an abrupt end.

. . .

Silia rushed through the corridors; her mind focused solely on Qadir. She found herself cursing under her breath, her anger mingling with worry. When she reached Qadir's quarters, she burst through the door without knocking, her eyes scanning the room frantically.

"Qadir." She breathed. "What happened?"

Qadir looked up from where he was sitting on the edge of his bed, his face pale and his expression a mix of disdain and pain. His injuries were evident—bruises and cuts marred his skin.

Still, he didn't appear to have any missing pieces. Ten fingers, both of his hands, he could stand... He should be fine for a human, right? 

And above all, despite this, there was a fierce defiance in his gaze still.

"I've met some more of your family." He stated, though his voice was slightly quieter than usual. Harsher.

Silia couldn't help but feel guilty. She wasn't used to have a bloodslave, didn't know what to do of him around nor how to use someone who couldn't fulfill his purpose. She should've known with his temper and so much free time for roaming around, it wouldn't be long before trouble comes to him.

No one would've dared to rough up Meyena's bloodslave without consulting her, for example. What happened was as humiliating to the human as it was to her.

"Heal your wounds and rest." She ordered as she closed his door. He rolled his eyes but did, nonetheless.

She immediately left the room, looking for two people in particular. It wasn't usual, Silia looking for people here— beside when she tries to prank them, she'd much rather stay as far from everyone as possible.

Silia stormed through the hallways, her anger simmering just beneath the surface. She could feel it bubbling over, threatening to break loose at any moment. As she approached the salon where she knew Seyan and Ivan would be, her fists clenched so tightly that her nails dug into her palms. She wasn't just angry, she was furious. And she wasn't about to let this slide.

Plus, it's not like she was ever good at concealing or even simply managing her own emotions. 

She pushed open the door with more force than necessary, the sound of it slamming against the wall causing both Seyan and Ivan to look up from their lounging positions. Their expressions barely shifted, though; the surprise was fleeting, quickly replaced by amused indifference.

"Ivan. Seyan." She stated darkly.

"Well, well," Seyan drawled, stretching lazily on the couch. "Here comes trouble." His lips curled into a smirk as he met Silia's glare.

Ivan, seated across from him, remained silent but watched her with a more calculating gaze. There was a flicker of amusement in his eyes, though it was quickly masked by a neutral expression.

"You both put your hands on what's mine." She paused, trying to regain composure. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

Seyan's smirk widened, and he sat up slightly, clearly enjoying the confrontation. "Oh, that? Your little pet? Didn't seem too fond of knowing his place. We were just... explaining it to him."

"He doesn't have to submit to you." Silia stepped further into the room; her fists clenched tightly at her sides. "He's not yours."

"Any fucking human has to submit to us, Silia. You might not be concerned," Seyan pouted over the fact, a fake pity filling his tone, "but we are, so we make sure everyone knows that."

Ivan leaned back in his chair; arms crossed over his chest. "You're getting all worked up over a human, Silia. It's beneath you, in case you forgot."

"I'm getting worked up upon none of you two knowing your fucking place." She stated.

"And what is our place, dear Silia. Please, do tell." Seyan sped toward her, hardly a meter away from her.

"Because right now, all I see is a sickly little thing with an awfully annoying high-pitched voice." He went on, bowing sightly to make sure their gazes were on the same eye level. "You think you can make demands of us now?"

Silia stepped closer, her face mere inches from his, refusing to back down despite the height difference. Her voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Try me."

It wouldn't be right to call Silia stupid, but she did appear to be a bit slow from times to times. Mainly because whatever happened, she never managed to control herself and deescalate a situation. She'll always barge head first onto arguments that'll get her hurt. Maybe that's why she was so entertaining to them.

The room fell into an eerie silence, the tension thick and suffocating. Then, in a sudden, violent motion, Seyan's hand shot out, striking her across the face. The impact sent her stumbling back, her vision blurring for a moment. But she didn't fall. She caught herself, straightened up, and glared at him with a hatred that burned in her chest.

"Still standing? Impressive." Seyan chuckled darkly, ironizing.

Silia didn't hesitate. She lunged at him, her hands balled into fists, landing a hit on his jaw that barely phased him. Seyan staggered slightly but quickly regained his composure. His smile faded as he grabbed her by the arm and twisted it, forcing her to the ground with a sharp, brutal motion.

She often wondered who she hated the most out of her cousins. Well, Seyan was back on the top first position.

"Is that all you've got?" he sneered, pressing his foot against her back as she struggled beneath him. Silia gasped in pain but refused to cry out. She twisted beneath his weight, trying to get free, but his strength far outmatched hers.

"Say you won't touch Qadir again." She hissed, hardly articulating the words as she fought against his leg.

Seyan paused for a moment, the grip of his foot against her sightly lightening. "Who the fuck is Qadir?" He frowned, actually looking confused.

"The slave." Ivan corrected while rolling his eyes, still sat on one of the fancier chairs as he watched the show.

"Oh, right." He acknowledged, "I'll do whatever I want, Silia." 

She spat at him.

"Fucking bitch!" He shouted, disgust on his face as he shook the spit from it.

At this point, you couldn't be too sure where Seyan's foot kicks had landed, could have been her ribcage, her stomach, or even her thigh for all Silia knew, it was all a blurred mix of pain anyway.

"Got it?" Seyan confirmed, bowing down to be once again on the same eye level as her. Silia's gaze narrowed, from pain or anger she wasn't sure either at this point, before darting against the man, biting his shoulder with all her might.

"What the fuck!" He pushed her body away swiftly, resulting in the bite she took to completely tear a good piece of his own flesh. The piece of meat fell back onto the ground as she smirked, followed immediately by Seyan hitting her head against the cold marble ground for good.

There's no way I'm waking up anytime soon, was the last thing she thought before darkness took over her vision.

Qadir didn't saw his Master again that night, nor the night after or even the next one.