enemies close, is there not?”
I nod again, wanting to plead that Mia does not need to be her enemy; but I say nothing, knowing better than to ask any more questions or voice any arguments. She continues to stare at me until the door opens up and Amora—a tall, brunette vampire that I have shared my bed with many a time—comes in, a silver platter carried before her
Her heels click softly on the wooden floor as Amora passes me, smiling widely. Her eyes meet mine for a second, and I feel her fingers picking at my brain, discovering what has just occurred. Her mask is better prepared than mine and does not waver once. She bows before our queen, lowering herself while still keeping the tray elevated.
“Lunch is served, my Queen.” She speaks, her voice soft, a gentle caress on her tongue.
Both female vampires glare at me and I realise that my time here is over. I bow once and leave quietly, clicking the door shut behind me. Halfway back to my room, I make a detour and stray to the art studio where I know Mia will be painting again.
I have watched her several times now, without her knowing. Her affection for me is growing, and it pains me that I cannot reciprocate it. So I watch, from the shadows, as her gentle body moves, her arms flying across the canvas as she paints yet another exquisite masterpiece. Barring the redhead on fire, the same element is in all of them, though. A recurring theme, if you will.
A garden, filled with flowers of every shape and style. Yet every colour is washed off each petal and stem. Every colour except blue. I feel some hidden memory is trying to escape through her artwork—some part of her past.
The need to see her is almost overwhelming, especially after learning that I may not have much longer with her. But when I get there she is not there; even her paintings have been locked away in the cupboard using the key that mad bastard Donny gave her.
With a scowl I head back to my room to take a shower, knowing I will have to wait until tomorrow to see her—when I can train her for no reason, because our queen intends only death for her. My scowl deepens. My loyalty is forever, as any good warrior’s should be, but my fear is that I have become so attached to Mia that I will be nothing without her now. But I see no way out of this, for her or for me.
She has already stolen me, but I am not hers to steal.
I still remember vividly the day I realised the strength of my own feelings for her. She was, as usual, behaving in her typical brattish way. Her emotions were everywhere, with no control or care over what she did or how she spoke. Most let it slide, since we are all accustomed to this behaviour from new vampires, but there are some who like to take advantage and manipulate these heightened desires.
I strip naked and step into the shower, letting the water wash down my hard chest and stomach. I close my eyes and tilt my face up to meet the pounding water, her face automatically coming to the surface of my memory as it usually does when I let my defences down. Because that’s what it takes to love her.
I had been training her for weeks—or at least attempting to—but she had fought me at every turn, wanting to use her new skills for fun instead of learning to control and understand them, and I had been growing tired and angry with her playful attitude. She was without a doubt beautiful, but then so are most vampires, and she didn’t strike me as anything special—just a frisky little vampire who was out of control.
I had gone down to the Commons to unwind after a long day when I had seen her entwined with Jenna and Henry, the most promiscuous Bastions in the coven. Of course she would be there with them: it was the worst place for her, and she was (and still is) a magnet for trouble.
I shake my head and rub my face under the cascading water as I think of her. The memory of watching Jenna peel Mia’s clothes away from her body, revealing velvet-soft skin and breasts so perfect I
I nod again, wanting to plead that Mia does not need to be her enemy; but I say nothing, knowing better than to ask any more questions or voice any arguments. She continues to stare at me until the door opens up and Amora—a tall, brunette vampire that I have shared my bed with many a time—comes in, a silver platter carried before her
Her heels click softly on the wooden floor as Amora passes me, smiling widely. Her eyes meet mine for a second, and I feel her fingers picking at my brain, discovering what has just occurred. Her mask is better prepared than mine and does not waver once. She bows before our queen, lowering herself while still keeping the tray elevated.
“Lunch is served, my Queen.” She speaks, her voice soft, a gentle caress on her tongue.
Both female vampires glare at me and I realise that my time here is over. I bow once and leave quietly, clicking the door shut behind me. Halfway back to my room, I make a detour and stray to the art studio where I know Mia will be painting again.
I have watched her several times now, without her knowing. Her affection for me is growing, and it pains me that I cannot reciprocate it. So I watch, from the shadows, as her gentle body moves, her arms flying across the canvas as she paints yet another exquisite masterpiece. Barring the redhead on fire, the same element is in all of them, though. A recurring theme, if you will.
A garden, filled with flowers of every shape and style. Yet every colour is washed off each petal and stem. Every colour except blue. I feel some hidden memory is trying to escape through her artwork—some part of her past.
The need to see her is almost overwhelming, especially after learning that I may not have much longer with her. But when I get there she is not there; even her paintings have been locked away in the cupboard using the key that mad bastard Donny gave her.
With a scowl I head back to my room to take a shower, knowing I will have to wait until tomorrow to see her—when I can train her for no reason, because our queen intends only death for her. My scowl deepens. My loyalty is forever, as any good warrior’s should be, but my fear is that I have become so attached to Mia that I will be nothing without her now. But I see no way out of this, for her or for me.
She has already stolen me, but I am not hers to steal.
I still remember vividly the day I realised the strength of my own feelings for her. She was, as usual, behaving in her typical brattish way. Her emotions were everywhere, with no control or care over what she did or how she spoke. Most let it slide, since we are all accustomed to this behaviour from new vampires, but there are some who like to take advantage and manipulate these heightened desires.
I strip naked and step into the shower, letting the water wash down my hard chest and stomach. I close my eyes and tilt my face up to meet the pounding water, her face automatically coming to the surface of my memory as it usually does when I let my defences down. Because that’s what it takes to love her.
I had been training her for weeks—or at least attempting to—but she had fought me at every turn, wanting to use her new skills for fun instead of learning to control and understand them, and I had been growing tired and angry with her playful attitude. She was without a doubt beautiful, but then so are most vampires, and she didn’t strike me as anything special—just a frisky little vampire who was out of control.
I had gone down to the Commons to unwind after a long day when I had seen her entwined with Jenna and Henry, the most promiscuous Bastions in the coven. Of course she would be there with them: it was the worst place for her, and she was (and still is) a magnet for trouble.
I shake my head and rub my face under the cascading water as I think of her. The memory of watching Jenna peel Mia’s clothes away from her body, revealing velvet-soft skin and breasts so perfect I
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