The Fifth Throne: Craving His Forbidden Sub

(A/N: forgive me. English is my second language, so I may mess up a lot between my accents, grammar, punctuation, and others, but keep in mind that you'll understand regardless). My dear soft reader, happy reading.

***

Rhett

The heavy splatter of rain. The clapping sound of thunder, striking through dark clouds.

"Mom, it's stormy and completely pitched black outside. Don't go. It's dangerous." My voice is low and broken.

"I'll soon be back, Rhett. Your father needs me. Stay inside, darling. Don't worry."

A lie. You never came back...

I feel a hand on my skin, tapping repeatedly, awakening me into reality. I roll my eyes. Of course, it had to be Rick, my dad.

"We are here, Rhett?" he says, and that's when I take in my new environment. Truly, we have arrived at Staffordshire University.

I gum myself to the window, watching as students roam the space. There are people chattering and catching up with their friends, many with different concerns. The weather is chilly as though the dark clouds will fall heavy rains.

"I have to hurry. The rain mustn't catch me outside," my inner voice states, aware of our traumatic phobia for rain.

Eventually, Rick pulls to a stop close to a fountain. Alighted, I'm trying to pack my bags and suitcases when he speaks up again.

"Please let me help, Rhett."

"I don't need your help," I retaliate, cutting him off before he can further his pleading. I will never think him genuine.

"Are you really not going to talk to me at all?" He persists, and I groan in annoyance.

"I could have come by myself. I never needed your help. Mom was the one who needed you, but you were never there. Oh, of course, she's dead now."

"Rhett!" His tone rings a warning that I find rather amusing. A second later, he adds, "At least, talk to me."

My anger spikes up the bar, and I blurt out, "You weren't there throughout my admission. You don't even know how I got into college. You don't know my birthday nor do you celebrate it with me. Oh, maybe you know I'm a tech-nerd, but you don't know how I earn—how I afforded paying the tuition fee, but of course, you want to help with my suitcase. Well, here, have it." I push both suitcases at him, and he catches them before the wheel gave up.

Briefly closing my eyes, I take a whiff of the cold air. "Please, let's get it over with the orientation, and we can both get back to our lives." I walk away before he gives a comment.

Fortunately, the orientation went well. I was able to talk to a few students who are majoring in the same discipline as myself—cyber security. The sky had gone much darker by the time I was free to proceed to the last thing for today: getting to my apartment.

"What's happening, Rhett?" Rick asks when he sees the worry lingering behind my features, a minute now since I've been pacing around a section of the hall.

"My roommate isn't answering his call." Valois—my roommate—was supposed to come and pick me up, but his contact isn't going through, and although he had once described the way to the apartment for me, I couldn't help my worry.

Thirty minutes later, "Oh, my... it's here. I figured it out," we arrive at the apartment, and I couldn't be happier. I'm smiling ear to ear as though I had won a trophy.

Entering the space, using the stairs to the second floor, Rick and I are now in the hallway. Tension and silence build around us. I have nothing to say to him, and in all honesty, I can't wait for him to leave already.

He asks suddenly, "I'm sorry, but what room are we heading to?"

"Uh," I pause and check my note again. "Um, room nine."

Room nine is two rooms away, so we stop when we get there. Having dropped my bags, I knock on the door. Again. And again.

When there is no response, I think of dialing Valois’ contact again when Rick twists the knob. My eyes pop out.

"Rick, you can't just enter..." But he already has. I rush in to stop him, only to trip, but he catches me. However, the view before me knocks me breathless.

A chaotic scene unfolds: a lanky blonde guy groans loudly, and a petite lady cheers him on. They are caught in a wild, tangled, messy display of indulgence. Valois—dark blonde hair, green eyes, sharp jawline, low moustache, and warm ivory skin—sits at the center, commanding the chaos with unrestrained energy. The room is littered with signs of reckless play: toys, creams, and various props scattered around.

"Well, that was a show, wasn't it?" Valois finally says, raising his eyes at Rick and me, a crooked smirk on his lips.

"You are so not staying here. We are getting the dorm right away," Rick states, and I pull him with me outside, closing the door behind me.

"I hate the dorm, and you can't dictate for me. I'm staying here. I can be free to attend my meetings and work without disturbance."

"Without disturbance you say?"

"Don't act like you care!" I yell at Rick, careless towards the hurt in his eyes. If you stare enough, you can see him cowering backward. "Your addiction ruined our family, and rehab could never fix it. Thanks to you, I now have a phobia of the rain—because mom died because of it."

The door opens, and Valois exits, turning to me and saying, "So, I gotta go drop off these two. Feel at home, all right?" With that, he strolls off.

"He's dangerous. He doesn't even act like a fresher," I mutter.

Turning back to Rick, I finish, "Please leave. You've done enough." But I know Rick is right. Valois is obviously not a good influence.

Anyway, I leave Rick in the hallway and enter the apartment. It's a one-bedroom space. The living room smells faintly of weed and chaos, so I head straight to the bedroom. I didn't know Valois until I was admitted, but this place was as he promised—the right fit. A matte black room with purple strip lights. Alluring.

Soon, I connect to the soundbar, helping me with setting up my things, and before I know it, I slept. By the time I wake up, the time is 21:20 and I'm hungry.

In the living room, Valois is back, on the couch, playing a game on his PS5. Oh, he's cleaned up the space, then it sparks in my head that the music is still playing.

I stop it and apologize as I approach him. "I'm so sorry. I was so tired that I slept off. I hope I never disturbed your game?"

"I'm a vampire, so I can kill one sound for another. It's a superpower." Then, he adds, "Will you play?"

My orbs bat at his nonchalance—like he meant what he said. "That's weird. Uh, thank you but no." Coming to sit next to him, I fiddle with my fingers as I begin. "I... want to thank you for covering the full rent. I'm glad we met in the alumni group. You're an angel."

He chuckles, pausing the game so he can focus on me. "Well, you can get me dinner to appreciate me."

"Yes, I will. I'm hungry as well."

"Chicken and chips?" He asks, and I nod.

"Sounds great."

Valois says there's a restaurant on the next street and that's where we went to. I find us a seat while he goes to get our order. A few minutes later, we are eating when he throws a question at me.

"If you don't mind, tell me about you?" I shrug, not knowing where to begin, but he assists. "Um, any friends back at home? Girlfriend?"

"I am so gay. Not Bi, Pan, nor Omni, but pure gay." His brows raise as a ghostly smile settles on his lips.

"That's very clear, queen. I'm Bi, by the way." He laughs.

Oh, I know. "Yeah, that was pretty clear too." I point out and he laughs aloud, gathering a few attention on us.

Following the silence, I continue. "And no, I'm very alone. Apart from work and gym, I have nothing else."

"I see. Tech, right?"

"Yes. Cyber security."

"That's so chill. Your dad must be so proud." He chimes in, no drastic intention.

"I don't know about that." My voice is low, and his brows furrow slightly. His facial expression tells me he wants to hear more, and for some reason, his bright green eyes hypnotize me to opening up. "Genuinely, I don't care about whatever he...my dad sees me as. All his life, he was a drunkard. He and my mom were supposed to get a divorce, but she still loved him. One day, he was drunk heavily, and she was called to come and get him out of the bar. She never came back. Her car was found below the bridge. A truck had hit her."

Valois is a listener. He utters no word all through, patient and observing. The muteness is awkward, so I shift the conversation. "Well, tell me about you."

"Oh, I'm a vampire. I came to this school to get rid of a hunter. Nothing more." He is actively unfazed.

"You're diving in an ocean of delulu." I pause, feeling a shift in the air.

Gravity seems to shift, a mesmerising aura suddenly filling the space. I freeze on the seat, a chill crawling up my spine, and then a masculine voice from behind me calls, "Valois."

The clean British accent, soft, whispering, and antique.

"Sire." Valois rushes up to attend to the man dressed in a black suit and well-tailored pants. His accessories make him stand out in the crowd, something about him is eerie yet bewitching.

Why sire?

The mysterious man darts his eyes towards me...and I gasp. I couldn't breathe for a second. Hell, his eyes were glowing...red?

Heavy chills run down my spine as I attempt to focus back on eating. Then, Valois rushes back and mutters, "That was my...boss. I need to leave now. You can find your way home, right, Rhett?"

"What...I..." It's futile. Valois is already exiting the space with the man.

Knowing that I have to get home by myself, I hurry with my food, pay the bills, and into the cold I go. The breeze is freezing. My exhalation can be seen. It had rained earlier, so the street is wet and slippery. When I see that calling a taxi at this time is another failure, I try to find my way back home.

Just as I step into the street, away from the grassy carpet outside the restaurant, a strange voice beams behind me. "Carefully, you'll trip."

And that I did, locking my ankles between a rail and pole. No, goodness! The immense pain. I didn't just break my ankles, did I?

(A/N: the imagination of locations are mainly made-up by me. It doesn't have any relation with the actual locations in Staffordshire University).

~Rhett~

Freaking out is an understatement. I heard the sound of bones breaking...blood! I'm bleeding for f*ck's sake. "Oh, f*ck, I'm bleeding." As it dawns on me, I scream but a hand soothes my shoulder, its owner coming to lock eyes with me.

"Hey, look at me. Look into my eyes, okay?" He repeats when I wouldn't stop hyperventilating. The moment I stared into his eyes, I am hypnotized.

His beauty can't be justified with words. His silver cerulean eyes looks precious, thick eyebrows, and dark silver hair. His body is perfection, his genes sculpted like art as I watch through the saggy black singlet he's putting on and tight jeans—also sagged—around his thighs. His abs are sharpened as well as his firm *ss in a black Calvin Klein boxer. Suddenly, I can't breathe.