Catherine stood stock still, pleading with me to escape with her, to run away to the only place that would still have me now. But I was too angry, betrayed by my own race. I felt naive and hurt. I knew that my race were fickle, selfish and cold. But I had always been the one on the inside, and this time there was no glory for me. I had been cast out on my ass, the fallen prince. Well, if they don't want me as their ally, they are sorely wrong. I am stronger now, for I have my beautiful Catherine allowed to me, and I am angry. They will pay. They will pay.
I shook my head, and watched her nod and turn to run away. I begged with whatever was up there, if there was any, to save her. I knew I was lost, but she could still be redeemed. Then, I turned to the war raging, and steeled myself for war.
I had been well trained as a warrior in the vampire camps, rising from a recruit in Italy by fighting the other recruits to the death, rising to become The Leader's pet. Seth was the first to challenge me, his eyes narrowed, and his left sleeve empty. He rushed at me, forgetting himself in his need to revenge his arm. He fell, neck broken. I moved onwards, fighting my brethen, and winning. I was in the process of stealing my second sword from a fallen vampire when I heard a low laugh. Catherine dropped from a branch, pale, shaken evidently, but alive. And not where she was meant to be. Catherine put one hand on her hip, put out by the silence. "What? I wasn't going to leave you alone here to fight, and cower like a child. You can like it or lump it, but I'm not leaving you. Last time, if I recall, you ended up with a wolf on your neck," she finished with a grin. "She was a good fighter, " I said,chuckling, " and I was no match for that!" She took the sword from my hand, and swung it.
Then, a white hot pain hit me in the abdomen, driving me to my knees. Catherine paled, grey flooding into her features. When I looked down, a sea of red faced me, staining my waistcoat, and tugging my sanity further out of my grasp. A dagger pierced the center, the royal crest in silver on the hilt. The Leader had taken his revenge, and had the last laugh. I had forgotten his love of throwing knives, and had forgotten myself with Catherine. I had let my guard down, and now I would certainly die. The Leader throws to kill.