William Holloway

I'm a devil in disguise

As William stood within the office of the Italian King, he could easily name a thousand places that he would rather be. This space was too confined, too cold, too... everything. The cell he'd just spent the last four years of his life within had a warmer reception than this space. William didn't want to feel this way towards Sebastian's husband. He wanted to like the man that had made his best friend so overwhelmingly happy, and yet the Fae King was making it... increasingly difficult to see him as anything other than a thorn in his side. Starting with, it seemed, doing everything within his power as King to rid William from Sebastian's life. As those words and conditions were spoken into existence, any chance that there might be a friendly coexistence between the two men in the vampire's life quickly faded. Somehow, William maintained some sort of composure, even if the palms of his hands burned with a desire for the blades that had been his saving grace only hours before. That psychic energy felt like electricity buried just below his skin, and it would take only a breath to call his power to life.

While his outward appearance might have been somewhat calm, the battle that raged within the Hunter as he struggled to keep himself from descending back into the madness that would destroy any chance of salvaging this situation. He'd spent four years in hell, forced every day to attempt to control what he could not if only because they'd lied to him with the words that Sebastian would die if he didn't comply. Four years of pain, torture, and madness. And for what? To be instantly exiled from Sebastian's life? To only be allowed to stand outside his property? To never be allowed a moment alone with his best friend? Didn't this King see that he had done exactly what they'd asked because he thought he was keeping Sebastian safe? Didn't he see that the instant he'd been able to, he'd returned to make good on a promise he'd made years ago?

William was unaware of Sebastian's attempt of speaking, the words offered coming so fast to his fractured mind that he hardly considered the damage that single sentence might do in the situation. He didn't consider the impoliteness of using the King's given name - nor, if he had, would he have truly cared in this moment - only that he was completely unwilling to back down and be forced to the outskirts of his life. He heard his name on Sebastian's lips, and yet even then he didn't stop speaking, determined to get his words across. In that moment, his tone was that of the Duke he'd been lifetimes ago, only forgetting that, for perhaps the first time in his long life, he was the lowest ranking individual in the room. But while his tone might have been that of the nobility he'd been in his human life, his words were that of a desperate, broken man who only had one thing left to lose.

William didn't consider the underlying meaning of what he was asking Sebastian to do. He didn't think of treason or the hundred ways that his words could have him arrested by the Italian monarchy. He didn't consider that by swearing his loyalty to Sebastian, it would carry over to the fae as well. It wasn't the Italian titles that he was so loyal to, but rather the only thing in William's long life that he still had left. Sebastian had been ripped from him twice already, once as their human life came to a close and once four years ago when he'd been captured. He could not lose him again. He'd already lost so much, and losing this last thing would surely break him in a way that he wasn't sure that he could put back together again. Even if he heard the words that the distraught King attempted to use to silence him, his attention remained entirely focused on Italy's prince, and that response. William stood perfectly still as he waited for Sebastian to respond, that electric feeling just beneath his skin nearly overwhelming the Hunter.

The pained tone in Sebastian's voice only furthered that feeling in his palms. The madness beneath his skin wanting to end anything that brought pain to Sebastian, even if he was just too far gone to realize it was his own actions in part that were harming his childhood friend. There was a part of William that so clung to the loyalty he'd come to expect from Sebastian that remained wholly... stunned... at the words that were offered to him. He could hear the pain behind the words, and yet the agreement with the King stung. But it was those final words offered to him that hurt the worst, that he wouldn't stay here for at least a night. He wouldn't even have one night's sleep under Sebastian's full protection, a sleep he so desperately needed. To be dismissed out of the house made his very soul ache, and yet William didn't speak any further.

The words of the Fae King made William's gaze flick to him, his dark eyes holding a resignation that had certainly not been there before. "Yes, Your Majesty," The Hunter said bleakly. There existed no hope within the man that this situation would change for him, and his very place had been made painfully clear to the Englishman. Within this room, this house, this very friendship, he was nothing. Though William didn't look up, he was well aware of the Italian words that were meant only for Sebastian. The tone of voice had shifted dramatically, the words no longer barbed and instead spoken with so much concern that it made him ache. How did this situation end up here? This was certainly not how he'd meant for the first introduction between the men to go. Still, William remained perfectly still as the King navigated around him and exited the room. William didn't even breathe until the sound of the monarch's footsteps were far gone, and he was left once again with the man who was supposed to be his best friend.

He owed him an apology.

And yet, an apology did not come.

"You should know you introduced me incorrectly," William stated, his dark eyes still focused on the floor rather than look at his best friend. So many emotions existed within the Dark Hunter: anger, devastation, fury, heartbreak. Each one seemingly more powerful than the last, and each one driven with the intense madness that just barely existed beneath the surface of the fractured pieces of William's sanity. His tone was not the playful, gentle one that he had always used with Sebastian and rather another entirely, this tone lacking the life and enthusiasm that had made up William. He wasn't that boy anymore, not the one that held titles and looked forward to evenings with his best friend. He was a monster, a murderer, a thousand things that Dorian clearly did not want around his husband.

"I hold no titles. I have no claim to the Dukedom, and haven't for two hundred years,," William said bitterly. "William Cavendish died a long time ago. You have been the only one to still afford me the luxury of the surname I was born with. I've gone by my maker's surname ever since, because William Holloway is all I am now." His taken surname was spoken with a rage that he'd never shown to Sebastian. And yet William found no ability to hide behind social niceties any longer. He'd stopped pretending to be the Duke of Devonshire a long time ago, that persona only ignited in nostalgia in a friendship that he'd thought it would be easy to continue. But that title did not belong to him, but rather some other Cavendish male that had had the sense to not perish.

"You spoke of me needing sanctuary. Of needing your help financially. And I'm not arguing that either of those things are untrue, because we both know that they are," He said darkly, his eyes finally lifting to look at the vampire. "But not once did you state that you offered me that position because you want me by your side. I'm in no need of your bloody charity." It was that that had hurt the Hunter the most, the fact that in all of the defense that had been made for him to stay - if you could call him that - he'd never claimed to have wanted William by his side as much as William wanted to remain at that place. No, he was just the poor little hunter who had no money and nowhere else to go. And Sebastian... he had this happy little life with his King and titles. What use did he have for him?

"You never even looked for me," William said suddenly, that heat in his hands threatening to overcome him. "You just thought I left and you were okay with that. You didn't care then, and you certainly could live without me now, couldn't you? I let them torture me for you, and you didn't even look for me!" As suddenly as he had spoken the words, the Englishman's sanity shattered. He wasn't sure if he called them or if he'd simply lost control, but in a breath his hands were no longer empty but instead holding purple blades that crackled with energy. In his state, the man was helpless to try to contain the fury that consumed him. He lashed out then, the blade in his left hand meeting the corner of the desk. The blade sliced through the thick wood as if it were made of paper, the lethality of those blades present to the vampire as William's body turned to Sebastian.

The Dark Hunter stood in front of Sebastian. Any trace of the Cavendish boy that he'd once been completely gone as he eyed the vampire. He was a madman, a killer. He was as lethal as they came, the very thing that the Council so feared he was. And in that moment, there was no recognition from William that the being he was turning his rage on was the only person he loved in the world. He closed the distance between the two of them in half a second, never once considering the damage he might do as he grabbed Sebastian and forced him back against that back wall, the blade in his hand sinking into the vampire's side in one swift motion. William's eyes looked up, and his gaze locked with the blue irises that he knew so very well. No! Something inside him screamed, and it was just enough to break something within that shattered mind. As quickly as the blades had come were they gone, William's arms moving to catch Sebastian within them as the horror of what he'd done came crashing down upon him.