His eyes snap open. Gasping for breath he didn't need, his heart racing, screaming in vivid, scarlet pain, as if he were stabbed. It was all he could do to snap his jaw shut tightly, willing the scream to remain in his mind and his throat, his fingernails digging into the side table, gouging out hardwood, until it crumbled beneath his fist.
He looks at the cold, empty space beside him, his mind reeling. WHERE. WAS SHE?
No trace of blood. No scent. Indeed, not a single trace, not a strand of hair remained. He closes his eyes, trying to reach where he would normally find you.
Only to find nothing. Just a deep, empty space. Where someone previously waited. Existed.
He couldn't feel the sire-bond. He couldn't feel the soul bond.
There was nothing. Just loose strands. Strands that were parts of his soul he twined into yours. Now, untethered.
It finally happened. You finally broke free.
You finally...broke free.
He stands up to look through your things, checking if you took anything.
Nothing. You took nothing. Everything remained.
He calls the staff. The guards. The spies.
No one has seen you leave.
With every word, the screaming inside gets louder and louder, but he keeps it inside. He holds it in. He gives orders to the human/humanoid factions he commands. As well as the monstrous ones.
He gives orders to his nocturnal beasts. Every bat, rat, insect, and animal under his control.
"Search for your mistress! You know how to find her." He commands.
He endures this interminable day. He endures, and endures, and endures.
Long enough for the day to end.
Long enough for him to walk unhurriedly back to your boudoir, close the door, and sink down to the floor.
After the initial wave of rage had subsided...as the day wore on, as the pain hammered and hammered at him, it was all he could do to keep his mouth closed. To stop the wail of pure anguish that tore at him, scratching at his throat to get out, lips pressed so tightly, his fangs bit into them, as he bled a little in his mouth.
Gone.
You were gone.
He couldn't think straight. Something. Something happened. How could this happen? How did you do it? He was able to stall you successfully over the years, each time you wanted to talk about thinge between you. But maybe you had just given up. He made you a true vampire so you'd retain free will, but he bound your soul to his, so that you could never leave. Never not love him. So how could you leave...?
A single moment of clarity hits him, as a venomous smile flits on his lips.
How, indeed. There were only two types on intervention that could possibly make it happen.
And he didn't believe it you would barter your soul, if there was another way.
Not if you had someone.
Someone 'divine' who would do anything you asked.
"That fucking, limp-membered trash." he spat. "How very dare he interfere."
But now that he knew. He could act.
He was getting you back. This wasn't over. He wasn't going to lose you.
You were his.
Your heart. Your body. Your everything. Was his, alone.
And you were coming home.
Even if he had to kill a god, to do it.