Bab 48: An old friend

(Soren's perspective)

"Distracted, my Prince?" comes the voice I am expecting from above my head. I don't bother looking up and continue to tap my foot against the mossy ground: if he doesn't want to be seen, then he shan't come down.

"Depends what you are asking I am distracted by," I murmur, quietly now, flicking a knife out from its sheath and twirling it between my fingers as the urge for blood subsides from my veins. The blade gleams dully in the darkness, reflecting back nothing but the impenetrable void. I drop my hand. 

"You always were an impulsive boy, tell me, how is the mating ceremony going?" the voice prods, deep and gravelly, humorous to a slight. An unusual voice for a vampire.