by Anna Santos
“I'm not strong. I'm weak and pathetic,” I muttered. “Stop being so kind. I should have died! I should have saved her!”
“When you get better, we will both go and save her.”
Another lie. Another lie to make me happy, so he could also be happy. That idiotic bond! He needed me to be happy, so he could be happy too. If we weren't mates, he wouldn’t care less about me. He couldn’t care less about my happiness.
I shouldn’t be that resentful of him. Eric had done nothing wrong. He was sweet and kind. I was the cruel and damaged one.
“I'm too broken to be fixed.” I sighed, wanting him to let me go and let me hold on to my misery and all my self-inflicted pity.
I had become a masochist, just like Alaric. He had damaged me so much that I couldn't see myself allowing another man to touch me. How could I be happy if I couldn't let my mate have me just for him, touch me without making me scream from fear, and kiss me without remembering all the abuse I’d endured?
Eric was looking at me with lost and sad eyes. He didn't know what to say to my words. I think he might agree with me. He was disappointed and didn't know what to do with me. What to do to a mate that was abused and doesn't feel happy nor can they make you happy?
“I won't be better. He raped me over and over again!” I said finally out loud, bursting into tears, wanting to die, to disappear and never exist again. “Let me go. Give up. I’m useless like this.”
“I know, honey. I know.” Eric grabbed my hands and kissed them. “But I’m not going away. No matter what you say. I’m here.”
My mate remained quiet next to me, waiting for me to cry it all out. Waiting for me to ask him to get closer and hold me. But, I didn't ask, I didn't want that. I just wanted to die.
“Elizabeth …” I heard between my sobbing, “I still want you and will protect you and help you in dealing with all that happened. You need to know that it wasn’t your fault.”
Somewhere deep inside me, his words reached out and made me feel better. Less damaged, less dirty, and tainted. Eric wanted me. He wanted to help me heal.
“I was saving myself for you,” I blurted, remembering what hurt me the most.
I was strangely frank with him, but I wanted him to know. I needed him to understand why it hurt so much, why I felt so bad. Alaric had taken from me something I was keeping for a long time, so I could offer it to my true mate. All Alaric gave me was pain, hurt, and disgust. How could I lay with my mate now?
Eric gripped my hand harder. My confession must have made him mad. I tried to look at him between my tears. He was in his vampire form—showing fangs, pale, flawless, and beautiful skin, and the most amazing purple eyes. Purple eyes! Not black or red, just purple. My soul-mate wasn’t a monster.
“You are so beautiful,” I said, taking long breathes and touching his face.
Eric frowned and then smiled, making my heart skyrocket.
I wasn't expecting to tell him that. I felt my cheeks burning, my throat drying, and my salty tears stinging my eyes.
“You’re beautiful, too,” he said, pressing my hand against his skin. Touching him felt nice. I was tempted to believe his words. However, I didn't feel beautiful. Inside, I felt shattered and empty. On the outside, I looked like a two hundred year old vampire who’d lost all will to live.
Chapter SIX
Jessica
Venice. I remembered being here even before I came for the first time when I ran away from the place I had been trapped and tortured by Valentina. Isobel's memories told me a story of enchanting houses, beautiful monuments, narrowed streets with gondolas and boats taking people around town.
I had clear memories of the fantastic parties that the Royal Vampires threw during festivities like the Carnevale. The elegant Venetian masks always fascinated me. The plaza was filled with people selling the most beautiful trinkets and glassware. Marcus didn't want me to buy cheap necklaces with pagan symbols. Instead, we visited the most exquisite and expensive jewelry shops so I could buy whatever necklace I wanted. I wanted souvenirs, and he was pleasing my every whim. I’d never been that happy in this life.
We spent all morning sightseeing after leaving the gorgeous hotel that we had booked. Marcus indulged me in going for a ride in a gondola, letting me be fascinated by the romance and the beauty of the city. All seemed cheerful and carefree, but it wasn't. We hadn't come here to explore the city. We were here to talk to Francesco.
Therefore, in the afternoon, we made our way to his house, a huge, old mansion with its foundations bathed by the river and its rocky walls surviving the test of time.
A housekeeper took us to the library. His house was familiar to me, not from another life, but from a couple of months ago when I went there to find out more about what happened to my relatives, and I stumbled upon my Book of Shadows.
The décor was sumptuous and old-fashioned. Velvet red curtains and golden panels decorated the space. There were also cozy red sofas where I sat next to Marcus who had my hand in his since we arrived there. He didn't want to leave my side, and I didn't want to either. The only reason that I was there was because I was feeling guilty about something I had supposedly done in another life that made Valentina hate me.
“It wasn't your fault, Jessica. You don't even remember what happened. You can't keep blaming yourself for something that Valentina holds a grudge against. They are mates, she was a witch, their relationship would be frowned upon, and she would probably be put to death. It's not your fault that you chose her to accompany us abroad and to be Eric's nanny. You probably saved her life.”
I nodded again. It wasn't the first time that Marcus had tried to relieve my conscience. I knew that he was partially right.
“I still need to know what he has done to her.”
“They are mates ... If he had kept her for so long ... living the way they lived, I'm not sure if he did punish her for wanting to betray him and us.”
“Still, I need to talk to them before we return to America.”
“As you wish, principessa,” he whispered, sending goosebumps down my spine with his Italian accent.
I loved when he called me that. Reminiscences of past memories of the two of us together came rushing to my head and left a fuzzy, warm feeling inside my stomach. Butterflies flew, tickling my throat.
We were so enthralled in each other's company that we didn't hear my former brother arriving to the library until he cleared his throat.
“What do I owe the pleasure of your visit? Have you come here to turn my life upside down more than you've already done?”
Francesco’s sarcasm and serious face weren't left unnoticed. He was far from the sofas, but not near the exit. He was merely standing there, arms folded across his chest, severe features, and cold gaze.
“I came here to check on you,” I said, getting up with Marcus by my side.
“So, this is a family visit? Where were you when I needed you in the United States to talk to my wife?”
“What do you mean? I have nothing to say to your wife. I've taped her madness for you to see and for everybody to know the twisted plan she had to kill you and deliver me as a prize to Alaric. Don't try to blame her hate for you on me.”
I raised my voice only enough to make him understand that I wasn't going to tolerate being held responsible for something that his twisted wife had been plotting for ages.
“This is a friendly visit, but if you want to accuse my wife of your mate's insanity, then we are leaving and forgetting all about you.”
“Your wife? Have you married?” Francesco asked, arching an eyebrow.
“Not yet. We will once we arrive in the States, and I have time to plan a proper wedding. You might even be invited if you lose your fear of flying and rent a private plane.”
“I have no intentions of leaving my home while my wife isn't well.”
I frowned at his muttered words. “What punishment did you give her?”
“She's locked in her quarters until she comes to her senses
.”
“Yes, that will help a lot because all she needs is a bit of time alone,” I said while rolling my eyes.
“What do you suggest? That I kill her? And then what? I die, too, of a broken heart.”
I folded my arms. “Do you even love her enough to die of a broken heart? Aren't you in an open relationship?”
“Not by my choice. She's been punishing me all these years for not keeping her by my side. For sending her to you ... She can't understand that it was the only way to keep her alive. Father was growing suspicious. He would have put her to death if he could.”
“Have you told her that?”
“She doesn't believe me.”
Sighing, I asked, “What can I do?”
“Do you remember what happened in the past?”
I shook my head.
“And she won't be forced to remember by talking about the past,” Marcus warned.
I knew he was afraid that I could have a stroke and lose my last memories in the process.
“Well, all I need is for Jessica to talk to Valentina and explain to her that the only reason she picked her to be Eric's nanny was because I asked her to. It was not due to a whim from my dearest sister. Isobel was aware of my love for Valentina, and she tried to keep my mate safe as requested by me.”
Marcus addressed my former brother. “I don't think she will believe it. Plus, are you sure that you want to save your marriage? The woman was planning to betray you and break your sacred bond so she could be mated to your nephew, my former son.”
Francesco sighed and looked at the ceiling painted with lovely cherubim and mythical creatures.
“I love her, and I know that deep inside she loves me, too. She's just ... holding a grudge that I brought on myself. If only I had explained to her why Isobel wanted to take her with her so far away from me.”
“Well, for now, I think she deserves a punishment. Whether it is to stay behind closed doors or to be left alone in the world. Francesco, you can't continue to let her do what she wants and get away with it,” I warned him.
“I'll let her come to her senses, and then we'll have a serious conversation. Meanwhile, congratulations!” His gloomy expression changed when his lips curled into a smile. “Eric waited for so long! I'm thrilled for him, despite the circumstances of what happened.”
“What are you talking about?” Marcus asked.
We shared a look, unaware of what Francesco was speaking of.
“Eric found his mate. Don't you know about that? Didn't they call you? My daughter told me, and I called Eric to confirm. He seemed excited. Giovanna also seems happy, living with your granddaughter's old crew.”
I blinked. “You lost me at Eric found his mate and piqued my interest when you said Giovanna was still in the US.”
“You should probably call home and discover all the news.”
“We will,” Marcus declared. “But we have taken the day to come here, see the city, have a romantic stroll, talk to you, and then go back home.”
“I appreciate the concern,” Francesco said.
My mate walked to him and put his hand on his shoulder. “Jessica and I are truly sorry for what happened to your mate. I'm sorry that she's losing her mind. I hope it's nothing to do with bloodlust and it's something you can fix if you tell her the truth and stop hurting yourselves on purpose with other lovers and the inability to share your feelings.”
Francesco arched an eyebrow and crossed his hands behind his back. “I see he has regained the ability to speak more than two sentences.”
“You’re still a clown,” Marcus muttered as he walked back to put distance between them.
I sighed at my brother’s sad attempt to annoy my soul-mate. “Marcus talks a lot. We talk a lot. Stop teasing him. Besides, you are the one that doesn’t seem fit to talk to your mate. Now, it has been fun, but we really need to go.” Reaching for my mate’s hand, I headed to the door.
Chapter SEVEN
Elizabeth
Every night, when I tried to sleep, the sound of Marie crying haunted my thoughts. My sister cried constantly. She moaned from hurt, from pain, from rejection. Still, the last times she’d shed tears it was from rage, pure rage for feeling crazy and tormented for wanting to be near her mate, for wanting him to touch her, even if it was to hurt her. It was a strange obsession and reaction. How could she want to feel pain? Was Alaric's deranged behavior reflecting on my sister?
Something else changed with time. Marie didn’t let me touch her. Not since Alaric raped me while she watched. It was not my fault; I was the one that was hurt, abused, and humiliated. I tried to make her understand that, but she seemed deaf and insensible to my begging, to my tears, and pain. I also needed comfort and for her to tell me that everything would be okay. Instead, she looked at me like it was my fault.
That monster often came to repeat the insane torture, to make me scream, until I didn't scream anymore, until I wouldn't react any longer, and became emotionless. Each time, my sister would try to free herself from the silver handcuffs, he used to restrain her, and she would beg him not to touch me. Each time, I wished for death and that he would dare to kill me permanently. In turn, Alaric would dare me to kill him, but I knew that Marie would die too. There were days that I would consider killing him and ending my sister's misery in the process because the things that were happening to us were not normal. I wouldn't call our life living. We merely existed. Maybe we were both better off dead. Perhaps if I didn't love her more than my own life, I could do that to her. Besides, she would beg me not to, not to kill that sick bastard that enjoyed killing people, raping women, and tormenting his soul-mate. She believed that they belonged, and he would eventually change his behavior and love her. That was a deranged thought. I knew Marie was nothing like him, she hadn't a bone of evilness in her before meeting him. So, how could she be his?
Alaric didn't feel the same as she did, because he would starve us to near death and then he would make us feed from the source. He was cruel beyond my worst nightmares. He would bring humans, mostly scared young girls, to be sucked and drained by us. We couldn't control our urges. We tried, but we would normally end up killing them. And the guilt was terrible. Their memories, their fear of dying, their fear of us monsters would haunt me and torment my days and nights.
We were taught not to feed from the source so we would live longer and healthier, to not end up mad. Madness was the main cause of vampires' deaths. We could live forever or at least for a long time, but it was not a coincidence that millenary vampires didn’t exist. They would eventually kill themselves from madness or boredom. Eternity was not everybody's cup of tea.
I never hated being a vampire until then.
I woke up startled, remembering the last time I killed a human because I was starving. There was only one word in the whole world that began to work better to calm me down than a prayer: “Eric! Eric!”
“I'm here, honey,” he said leaning near me. He was seated on the armchair next to my bed. It had become so typical to see him there that it was strange when he wasn't.
“How long did I sleep this time?”
“Twelve hours.”
I grinned painfully. I was a pureblood. I should not be taking so long to heal. It had been one week since he took me to that room to heal. But my soul was damaged, and it affected my ability to heal physically. I had to want to improve, but depression was winning.
“You look better today,” he praised.
I looked at the almost empty bag of blood, which was being poured inside my veins. I had used a lot of blood, more than I should need. My attention was drawn to the happy laughing sounds that came from outside. I looked out the window. It was a sunny, warm day, a happy day with people enjoying themselves.
“My family is outside at the pool with some friends,” Eric said, following my wandering eyes. “We can join them if you feel strong enough to go outside. It would make you feel better.”
I stared at him. I made him miserable. He could be ou
tside having fun and being happy instead of being inside a bedroom with a worthless dying mate. “You should go. You don't need to be here all the time.”
“My place is beside you. We’ve already been apart for far too long.”
“I do not want … to make you miserable.”
“Then. come with me outside.”
I nibbled on my lower, probably pale-dry lip. He had a way of reasoning that made me want to make him happy, but also of making me feel guilty.
“I don't feel strong enough,” I said, after pondering for a long while. It was a good reason. I didn't feel like walking. I didn't even know if I could walk, and I was too tired to try.
“I brought you a wheelchair,” he informed, pointing at it folded near the wall. “I would gladly take you in my arms, but I know you don't like me to touch you … much.”
He looked away as if ashamed of saying that. I knew it was painful for him not to be able to touch me. He was patient and respectful. I had to admire his control. Even if I was reluctant about the physical contact, I had to confess I didn't feel disgusted by it. It felt good, but I needed to take baby steps.
I always took too long to reply to his questions or to talk to him. He was patient and waited for me to take my time. Eric never insisted I talk if I wasn’t in the mood.
“I don't know if I want to see other people.”
“We can give it a try. You don't need to talk to anyone if you don't want to. I'll bring you back here the moment you want to leave.”
Eric had a hopeful face, and he was actually smiling while talking. My mate had a beautiful grin. Alaric didn't smile. Not nicely. He smirked wickedly and chuckled with evilness.
“Come on, Beth,” Eric asked tenderly, calling me by my nickname. The one my sister always used.
I sighed. It sounded romantic on his lips. It sounded like poetry.
“Is Anna downstairs?” I asked, considering the possibilities. I had to meet his family. Why not now?