[Bastet]

"Bast, wake up, sweetie," my mother said, shaking me out of my deep sleep.

"Hmm? Mommy? What's wrong?" I asked her, looking at the clock on my bedside table. The big bright letters read 3:45 am. "Why are you waking me up so early?" I asked her, trying to wipe the sleep out of my eyes.

"Get up and brush your teeth and hair, then come downstairs, sweetie," my mom said as she walked out of my bedroom. I couldn't help but notice a weird look on my mother's face, like she was doing something wrong.

I did as my mother asked, my heart pounding from worry. What reason would my mother have for waking me up like this? And why did she look so upset? I tried to calm myself down, but to no avail, as I brushed out my long hair much rougher than I meant to, causing myself to wince in pain. After I was done, I started to walk down the stairs. I had to hold the railing to steady myself. My legs were shaking so terribly I could barely stand.

"Mommy?" Once I reached the bottom step, I called out, looking at the living room to my right, where I saw a flickering light.

"Come on in here, Bast," my father called from the room. Hearing my father's strong voice made me feel better. My dad always made me feel safe and secure. Having heard my father's voice, I felt my worries fade as I walked into the living room. My mother and father sat on the couch next to each other, and across from them, I could only see the back of a stranger.

From behind, I could tell this man was tall and strong. I slowly walked towards where my parents were, keeping my eyes on the man, taking in his appearance. He wore a black three-piece suit with a dark purple tie. His hair was black and short.

As I was about to sit next to my father, he stopped me and motioned to the stranger. "Sit next to Damien, Bast."

I turned towards the man and couldn't hold back the shudder that went through my body. Underneath that black hair were the most shockingly electric blue eyes I'd ever seen. His facial structure was strong and handsome, with a short and well-groomed beard.

I told myself to do as my father said but found I was glued to where I stood, staring at the man. I don't know why, but this man made me want to run and never look back. Looking at his face, I felt like I was looking into the face of the devil.

"Do as your father told you, little girl," Damien said, his blue eyes showing a hint of anger as he spoke. His voice was deep, so deep I felt everything inside me tremble the moment he spoke. The way he looked at me made me feel like he was looking right through me, down into my soul.

As the man said, I did and sat next to him, as far away as I could on the small couch. Sitting next to this man made me feel like a glass doll, small and fragile.

Damien chuckled as he looked at me, cowering away from him, but said nothing to me as he looked back at my parents. "I accept your payment," he said, then stood. He held his hand out to me, expectantly.

"What? Daddy, what is happening?" I asked him as I scrambled off the couch and into a corner of the room, as far from Damien as possible.

"Bast—” My father started to speak but stopped once Damien held his hand up, silencing him.

"You are mine, little girl," Damien said as he sauntered towards me confidently.

"No!" I screamed and tried to run away but found that I couldn't run any further away, as my back was already pressed against the wall.

The man came closer and stopped once he was a few feet away. "Bast, do you want your mother to die?" he asked me, his voice low but still terrifying as he towered over me, his eyes searing into me.

I couldn't help but be taken aback by his words as I looked past him and at my mother. "No, of course, I don't," I whimpered as my eyes darted back at the man.

"Your mother will die if you aren't mine. So be a big girl, and take my hand. I will explain everything," he said, holding his hand back out at me. "I promise I will not steal you away," he added after seeing my hesitance.

I reluctantly took the man's hand and allowed him to lead me back to the couch. Once I sat down, I tried to take my hand back, but he held onto tightly, refusing to let it go. "Your mother has cancer, Bast. And she will die soon if she does not receive treatment. Your family is poor and cannot afford to pay, so your father offered you as payment," he said as he cast a hateful glance at my parents; the venom in his voice made my parents look down in shame, refusing to make eye contact.

"But I'm twelve!" I cried out but didn't dare to move again in fear of what he would do.

"Don't fret, little one. You will become mine on your eighteenth birthday," he said, looking into my eyes.

I saw a twitch at the corner of his otherwise emotionless face. Was it a smile forming? No, it couldn't be.

I couldn't hold back my tears anymore as everything that was happening was too much for me to bear. I yanked at my hand again. This time he released it as I pulled my knees to my chest and wept. "How could you give your own daughter away?" I cried to my parents through my tears.

"Bast, don't be selfish!" my father suddenly yelled as he stood. "Your mother is dying, and this man will give her the treatments she needs to survive. Do you think I would choose you over my wife? I never wanted you to begin with!"

Damien stood up and placed one hand on my father's chest, and shoved, hard. The force caused my father to go flying through the air, over the couch, and land on the ground behind it. "You will not speak to her in that way. Understood?" he said, his once low voice now hard as steel.

"Yes, Mr. Edge," my mother whispered, not moving to check on her husband as she continued to sit, looking at the ground.

'Why does that name sound familiar?' I thought, then the realization dawned on me as I looked at the man through my tears. 'This is Damien Edge, the billionaire lawyer!' Then another realization hit me like a freight train. "Are you really a vampire?" I asked him.

"Yes, little one. I am a vampire," he whispered as he sat back down next to me.

Then it all became way too much for me to handle, as I started hyperventilating, looking at him, then at my mother. I was gasping for breath but found I couldn't breathe.

"Bast?" my mother called, her voice filled with worry as she came over and tried to comfort me.

"No, get away from me!" I screamed and kicked her in the shoulder. I wasn't sad or upset anymore. I was beyond pissed as I curled into a ball on the couch. "Please just leave me alone." I sobbed as the tears started falling again.

Damien wrapped his arms around me and carried me back to my room, setting me down softly on the bed, before tucking me in. He stayed with me until I'd calmed down, not caring how much I kicked and screamed at him. Once I was too tired to fight anymore, he kissed me on the forehead and stood. "I will be back for you, little one," he whispered in my ear before turning and leaving, shutting the door softly on his way out.

The last thing I heard before succumbing to sleep was him speaking to my parents. "I will be back for her. If I find that you have harmed my little one in any way, shape, or form, cancer will be the least of your worries."

For the next week, I didn't eat and rarely slept. The only time I got out of my bed was to use the bathroom. My parents continually tried to come and speak to me. But I would turn them away every time. I couldn't believe that they could give me away so easily. What my father said was constantly in the front of my mind. Did he really never want me? Was I such a horrible daughter?

On the eighth day of sulking, I woke up to the sun shining brightly into my room like it was mocking me. I sighed, looking up at the ceiling fan as it slowly rotated, my mind a million miles away. After staring for a while, I grabbed my laptop and flipped it open, staring blankly at the search engine, trying to decide on whether I should or not.

After a few minutes, I decided there was no harm in doing it; after all, it's not like it would change anything. So, I held my breath as I typed his name into the search bar: Damien Edge. And pressed enter. In less than a second, I had millions of results in front of me. Most of the headlines read something along the lines of "The World's Most Eligible Bachelor!" or "The World's Sexist Man Is Also One Of The Richest!"

I started clicking on links and read everything I could about the man I would belong to. In every post or news article I read, there were pictures of the man I had nightmares about.

In all the pictures, he was stone-faced, sober, and intimidating. The complete opposite of the way he acted towards me the night I saw him. I clicked on a link of him standing in a courtroom, speaking to the jury. As the video played and I heard his voice, I felt tears coming to my eyes again as I remembered this man had laid claim on me. On my eighteenth birthday, he would come for me.

"I don't think my closing arguments were even that touching to the jury," a deep voice said from behind me, making me jump up with a scream.

Damien was standing in my bedroom, watching me from the doorway, with that same emotionless look on his face. He wore another black three-piece suit, this time with a royal blue tie.

"How long have you been there?" I asked, holding my chest as my heart pounded in my ears.

"Not long," he said as he came into the room, then sat on the edge of my bed, watching me coldly. He grabbed my arm and pulled me back into the desk chair across from him. "Why aren't you eating?"

"I..." I tried to speak but found that I couldn't. "My parents called you?"

"Yes, Bast, your parents called to tell me that you haven't eaten in over a week. You haven't stepped out of your room. Why?" he asked as he leaned closer to me, placing his hands on the armrests of my chair, trapping me from escaping.

'Jokes on you. I couldn't move even if I wanted to,' I thought, trying to avoid his gaze. "I've just been too upset," I whispered.

He stared at me for what seemed like years, then stood and walked out of the room. A while later, he came back with a plate of food. My mouth began watering the second I saw it piled high with spaghetti. He held the plate with one hand and put his other around my waist before lifting me and setting me down on the bed. He set the plate in front of me and sat in the desk chair. "Eat," he said, watching me intently.

I looked at the plate in front of me, then looked back at him. "Are you going to eat too? This is way too much for me," I asked him, then added, "Never mind, I know vampires don't eat."

He didn't respond but instead stood and walked out of the room once more. He came back only a few seconds later with a fork in one hand and a glass of soda in the other. He put the soda and the fork on my bedside table, then took off his suit jacket. He set it on the chair before sitting on the bed across from me, crossing his legs.

I couldn't hold back my laugh as I looked at him. This multi-billionaire vampire was sitting cross-legged across from me, ready to eat spaghetti with a little twelve-year-old.

"What's so funny?" he asked me, narrowing his eyes.

"Nothing," I said, then handed the second fork to him before taking a bite of the spaghetti. I'd never had any that tasted half as good as this did. "Woah, did my mom make this?"

He took a bite as well and chewed slowly before responding. "No, I made it."

"Will you cook for me after you come and take me away?" I asked him softly, looking into his eyes, despite everything in me telling me not to.

"If it is what you wish, yes," he responded, looking back into my eyes, unwavering.

"Why did you accept me as payment?" I asked, feeling emboldened for some reason.

"Because I can."

"I don't believe you."

"Don't ask questions you cannot handle the answers to, little one," he said, putting down his fork, then grabbing the glass and putting it up to my lips.

"Tell me, please. All these questions in my head are driving me insane," I said after taking a drink.

"Because if I didn't, who else would your parents have offered you to? And would that person wait until you were eighteen to take you? What would your parents be willing to do to you for a cure? I don't think those are answers you truly want, Bast. And I couldn't allow them to do such things to you."

"Why not? I'm nothing to you," I said, putting down my fork and crossing my arms over my chest.

He sighed and looked down before responding. "I was in the hospital the day you were born. The second your scent hit me, I decided you would be mine. From that day, I've kept an eye on you. When I found out that your parents were offering you as payment for treatment, that's when I decided to show myself."