The Huntress Omega

INGRID.

The jolt of consciousness hit me like a slap. My body snapped upright, trembling, cold sweat rolling down my face. My breaths were shallow, my pulse hammering in my ears like a war drum.

 Where was I?

I forced my gaze to scan the room. Dim torches flickered along the massive chamber walls, their shadows playing tricks on my mind. Gold and maroon patterns lined the walls, their elegance a sharp contrast to the filth I'd grown used to.

I got up from bed not minding my sore body. My feet met the cold wooden floor, and I steadied myself, taking in my surroundings. The room's only door stood slightly ajar, revealing a sliver of a dimly lit hallway beyond. I crept towards it, heart pounding against my chest.

Peeking through the crack, I saw the hallway was empty. I slipped out of the room, my breath shallow and controlled. The mansion—or was it a castle?—was unsettlingly quiet. Each step felt like a gamble, my senses sharp and ready.

Rounding a corner, I found myself in a grand dining hall. A long table stretched out before me, laden with an array of foods: roasted meats, fresh fruits, and pastries.

I gulped. My stomach growled at the sight, reminding me of how long it had been since I last ate. But I couldn't afford to be distracted. I needed to get out of here.

As I moved forward, a sound froze me. Slow, deliberate footsteps echoed from the hallway ahead. Panic surged through me. My eyes scanned the room, searching for anything I could use as a weapon.

A wine bottle caught the chandelier's light, glinting on the table. I hesitated only briefly before seizing the wine bottle from the table.

With a swift motion, I brought it down hard against the edge of the table. The bottle exploded into fragments, the sound echoing loudly in the room. I seized a large, jagged shard and darted behind one of the room's thick columns, pressing my back against the cool stone.

Holding my breath, I listened as the footsteps grew louder, each one sending a jolt of adrenaline through my system. The door to the dining hall creaked open, and I risked a glance from behind my hiding spot. 

I waited anxiously, my heart pounding inside my chest. The closer it rings in my ear, the more timid I become. I waited for the footsteps to walk behind the column I'm at, and when I saw a shadow walk past by. I took a deep breath and with all my might I swallowed my saliva and swiftly stepped out behind the column to accost whoever's approaching. 

As our eyes met, I took that chance and quickly aimed the sharp end of the bottle towards his neck. I caught a glimmer of surprise within his red eyes but it quickly disappeared and turned into a smirk.

"Who are you and where am I?"

Despite me pressing a shard bottle on his neck, that annoying grin never left his face. It's like he's more entertained by the fact that I'm about to slice off his neck and never even feel shaken about it. He's about to die and yet he finds this fun?

"Is this your way of saying thank you to someone who just saved your life?" He let out a low chuckle. "Hm, feisty but you're welcome."

"Answer me or I will kill you right here, right now." I threatened him even though I know more than anyone I can't.

"How about you put the bottle down first, sweetheart?"

I remained silent, withholding my words. I am vastly aware that he could see the trembling of my hand as I held onto the bottle. My gaze remained fixed solely upon the depths of his eyes, watching every movement of his face — his eyes were full of delight and amusement.

"Answer me, or I'll make this bottle find its way into your throat," I warned and pressed the jagged-edge bottle harder, prompting a trickle of blood to escape from his neck. This will instill a sense of fear in him, right?

"Speak." I insisted, my resolve unyielding.

With a hint of mischief, he answered, "I am Zagreus Hawthorne, a royal baron of Arcane."

"What do you want from me?"

"I know this is a lot for you to take in." He let out a long sigh. "Your people . . . sold you to me, in exchange for 30 gold coins."

I scoffed. Did he really have to slap that all over my face as if I'm not aware? 

Memories of everything, every suffering, every pain that had unfolded came back to me, causing a rush of emotions and quickening my pulse, they were like nightmares, feeding off my fear like vultures circling a carrion. Always looming over me like a shadow.

With a gentle touch, he delicately removed the shard bottle away from his neck using his two fingers. "Can we sit down, please-"

"No." Yet, just as quickly, I returned it to its place, nestled against his throat.

There is something in him, one that unsettles me, even though he is undeniably attractive. His pale skin and bright crimson eyes are making him glow and stand out but still he looks like someone who knows nothing but to trick and deceive people. 

 I cannot trust him. I can't trust anyone anymore.

He gestured to the table, his tone softening slightly. "I prepared all these foods just for you. You should at least eat."

 "I'm not hungry—"

My stomach growled at the delicious scent, betraying me. I gulped when I saw how the smirk on his face became wider.

 Ah. Damn it.

I maintained my silence, my grip on the bottle never moved an inch to his neck as I stared into the depths of his blood-like eyes, searching for any sign of weakness. 

Yet, to my dismay, all I found was a glimmer of amusement, as if my futile attempts at defiance only served to entertain him further.

"Even though your little tummy says otherwise?" He teased. "Please? I owe you now and you shall obey me."

 ༻♱༺

Ingrid let out a sharp breath before putting the shard down. At one end of the table, Ingrid sat, her eyes were wide with delight at the feast before her.

She gulped and took a peek at the man who sat across from her. A mischievous smirk is playing on his lips. "Please, be my guest."

Ingrid swallowed hard once more and finally, she dug into the food with fervor, stuffing my mouth as if it were her last meal.

"Ingrid, right? Daughter–adopted daughter of Alistair Hearst." Zagreus said, his voice smooth and laced with curiosity. "So, this is the infamous assassin who took down Alpha Trevor years ago. I must admit, I expected something . . . different."

Ingrid stopped and remained silent, her gaze unflinching. Zagreus' eyes narrowed as he noticed her staring. 

"Got questions in mind?" he asked, his voice a low growl.

Ingrid smirked as she wiped her mouth with a towel. "I've heard terrible things about you, but I didn't know you'd be this desperate to find yourself a beloved."

 Zagreus arched an eyebrow. He took a wine glass off the table and drank. "Then you must have heard the tales wrong."

 "Have I?" Ingrid's eyes gleamed with challenge. "So, what's the catch? What do you want from me?"

 "Exactly, sweetheart. Why do you think I chose to save you where I could have just let you rot in chains and die?" He mumbled as he placed the wineglass off the table.

Ingrid looked at him, forehead frowning. "Quit beating around the bush and just tell me. You saved my life so that you can play and kill me yourself, is that it?"

"Not quite but you know well I can suck the life out of you whenever I feel like it, right?"

Ingrid had heard of him, of course - everyone had. Zagreus Hawthorne is a powerful royal vampire of Arcane. He commanded both fear and loyalty, his presence as formidable as the lands he governed.

"What do you want?"

 Zagreus leaned forward, his eyes firm. "I'm here to offer you a deal and perhaps we could come to an agreement."

Ingrid crossed her arms. "I refuse."

 Zagreus chuckled. "You see, I kill dogs who defy and disobey me. Which is why they fear. However, I believe you'll find my offer quite compelling."

Ingrid challenged, "Is it to become your beloved you demand? Sorry, but I don't do weddings."

"I'm not looking for a beloved. Oh, sweetheart. Love is for the weak and I don't do love." Zagreus smiled a predator's smile. "I need someone with your . . . particular talent. Someone who can handle delicate matters discreetly."

Ingrid's thoughts whirled and she was not expecting this but she wasn't born yesterday. "So, you want me to kill for you?"

"In a manner of speaking," Zagreus said, smirking. "There are those who threaten the stability of my reign. I need them dealt with. Permanently."

Ingrid scoffed. "You're a royal vampire. A Hawthorne. Your bloodline was the first kind to be immune to sunlight yet you can't deal with your enemies?"

"Well, it would be a waste if I don't cherish the monster Alistair made while it lasted, right?" He said in a rasping tone. "The very first wolfless omega who had an Alpha bleed under her sword."

Ingrid's blue ocean eyes burned with intensity. "Well, sorry to burst your bubble but you got the wrong person. The 'monster' you were looking for was long gone. She's dead."

"Is she? Your life belongs to me now. I decide what you are and what you are not." He said with much authority. "Food, protection, supplies. . .your freedom. Everything you need to start a new life. Name it. All I ask is for your service."

Ingrid bit her cheek. The weight of his words pressed down on her. A weapon. That's all she was to him, to anyone. But if being his weapon meant she could carve out her freedom, then so be it.

"Then you have mine," she said, her voice firm. "But do know this, I am no one's pawn."

Zagreus chuckled. "Of course. You're far too valuable for that."

Ingrid's stomach swirled, but she drove herself to remain calm. "Just be sure you're the man of your word."

"I always keep my word, sweetheart," Zagreus replied. "But remember, Ingrid Hearst. Fail me, and the consequences will be dire."

Ingrid never once missed, every mission is an absolute. Target is a target. Kill is a kill. In a battle of war and blood, she and her blade always have the last laugh. 

Ingrid's expression remained steady as she met the man's piercing gaze, she remained confident, knowing the talent she possessed.

 "Whose head do I have to kill?"

Zagreus leaned back, satisfaction dripping from his every word. "The Alpha of Enigma," he said, his grin turning wicked. "Kill Vesarius Rage."