#mate bond

[piperthorn]

Not Decoration

The Night Court assumes Eris Vanserra’s mate is nothing more than decoration at his side.

They learn very quickly that some females do not need to raise their voice to remind a room exactly where power sits.

Requested by @alexof90s — I hope this is close to what you were picturing! (Once again I didn't proof read this at all so feel free to let me know if there are any spelling errors!)

The first mistake the Night Court made was assuming you were decoration.

Not intentionally or obviously.

They were too polite for that.

But you saw it in the way their eyes moved over you when they entered the meeting room.

Briefly, if not dismissively.

A female beside Eris Vanserra.

Something ornamental, perhaps.

Something placed at his side to soften the image of Autumn’s new High Lord.

You did not correct them.

Eris noticed.

Of course he did.

The corner of his mouth shifted just barely. 

You didn’t look at him.

“Try not to look so pleased,” you murmured.

“I am not pleased.”

“You are nearly smiling.”

“That would be unbecoming.”

“Then by all means,” you said softly, folding your hands in your lap, “continue suffering.”

Across the table, Cassian’s brows rose.

Azriel’s shadows shifted once behind his shoulders.

Rhysand, to his credit, noticed the exchange for what it was.

A warning.

Mor noticed something else entirely.

Her gaze lingered on Eris with the same familiar disdain it always held.

Cold and sharp. Nothing if not practiced.

“You’ve redecorated,” she said, glancing around the council room. “How charming. I almost forgot where we were.”

Eris did not respond.

He only looked down at the treaty papers in front of him.

You watched the movement.

The restraint it took him not to bite at her.

Rhysand cleared his throat.

“We’re here to discuss the border villages.”

“Then let us discuss them,” Eris said.

His voice was smooth.

It always was in rooms like this.

The meeting began as most meetings did.

With maps and numbers. Along with men pretending history had not shaped every inch of land they were negotiating over.

Rhysand spoke well.

You would give him that.

Azriel said very little, but missed nothing.

Cassian shifted in his chair like diplomacy physically pained him.

And Mor…

Mor watched Eris like she was waiting for a monster to show its teeth.

You let it continue for twenty-three minutes.

Twenty-three minutes of clipped words. Quiet tension. Little glances that held nothing but daggers. Along with subtle jabs dressed up as moral certainty.

The last straw was when Mor finally said, “Forgive me if I find Autumn’s sudden interest in protecting vulnerable people difficult to believe.”

Eris’s fingers stilled on the paper.

Only for a moment.

You gently set down your tea.

The cup barely made a sound against the saucer.

But somehow, the room noticed.

Mor’s eyes flicked to you.

You smiled.

Not warmly. Not cruelly. Politely.

The sort of smile court ladies were taught to wear even if swallowing poison.

“Difficult to believe,” you repeated.

Mor lifted her chin.

“Yes.”

“How interesting.”

Cassian leaned back slightly.

Azriel’s shadows went still.

Eris did not move beside you.

He knew better.

Mor’s gaze narrowed. “Do you have something to say?”

You tilted your head.

“I was deciding whether it would be rude.”

“And?”

“Oh, it’s terribly rude I’m afraid.”

Rhysand’s attention sharpened.

You turned your cup once, slow and deliberate, before looking back at Mor.

“But since we are clearly past the point of pretending this room is governed by courtesy, I suppose I might as well.”

Eris exhaled once through his nose.

Almost amused.

You continued.

“You speak of Autumn’s cruelty as though anyone at this table intends to dispute it. We do not. Autumn has teeth. It has always had teeth.” Your gaze swept briefly toward Eris. “Some of us have spent years removing them one by one.”

Mor’s mouth tightened.

“But what fascinates me,” you went on, voice still calm, “is the Night Court’s remarkable talent for selective outrage.”

Cassian straightened.

Rhysand’s face went very still.

There it was.

The shift.

The moment they realized you were not decoration.

You smiled again.

Softer this time.

“You condemn Autumn for what it allowed to happen beneath Beron’s rule. Fair. You should. But I do find it curious how rarely that same scrutiny turns inward.”

Mor’s eyes flashed.

“Careful.”

You looked at her then.

Truly looked.

“I would advise caution, Morrigan,” you said softly. “Not because I fear what you might say, but because I know what you have chosen not to.”

The room went still. 

You leaned back slightly in your chair.

“Careless would be asking why the Court of Dreams feels entitled to sneer at every cruel tradition in Prythian while still ruling over the Hewn City.”

Cassian’s jaw flexed.

Azriel said nothing.

Rhysand did not look away from you.

Good.

At least one of them understood where this was going. 

Mor’s voice was low. “You know nothing about the Hewn City.”

“No,” you agreed. “I know what survived the retelling.”

You tilted your head slightly before continuing 

“Interesting that you speak so confidently for someone whose version of events requires several omissions to survive.” 

Mor stood slowly.

“You have no right to speak to me about what I survived.”

There it was.

The part you had been waiting for.

Your smile faded.

Not because you were afraid.

Because some things deserved seriousness.

“No,” you said. “I do not.”

The room stilled.

Even Eris glanced at you then.

You met Mor’s gaze without flinching.

“What was done to you was monstrous. No one in this room should deny that. I certainly will not.” Your voice lowered. “But your pain does not make every omission holy.”

Mor went utterly still.

“You have allowed them to believe one version of the story because it is easier than dragging the whole thing into the light,” you said. “And perhaps you had reason. Perhaps silence was all you had. I will not fault a girl for surviving the only way she could.”

A breath.

Then another.

“But I will fault a court for building policy around half a truth and calling it justice.”

Rhysand’s eyes flicked, briefly, toward Eris.

Eris remained expressionless.

But his hand had shifted closer to yours on the table.

Not to stop you.

Not to guide you.

Just there.

Mor’s voice was colder now.

“And what truth do you think you know?”

You folded your hands again.

“The kind men leave out when the facts are inconvenient.”

A sad smile played on your lips. 

“The kind women bury because being believed costs too much.”

For the first time, Mor had no immediate response.

Good.

You had not wanted to hurt her.

Not really.

But you were very tired of watching Eris bleed quietly under everyone else’s certainty.

“You may hate my mate,” you said, and only then did your tone sharpen. “That is your right. Hate him forever, if it comforts you.”

Eris’s gaze moved to you.

You did not look at him.

“But do not sit in his court, at his table, beneath laws he bled to change, and pretend your hatred is the same thing as truth.”

Silence pressed against the walls.

Cassian looked between you and Mor, unusually quiet.

Azriel’s shadows curled close to his shoulders.

Rhysand leaned back slowly, expression unreadable.

You picked up your tea again.

It had gone cold.

Mor did not sit.

Not immediately.

Her face was pale with anger, but beneath it there was something else.

Something older. Something less certain.

Eris finally spoke. Calm and measured.

“My mate raises a wonderful point.”

Rhysand looked at him.

Eris’s eyes did not leave Mor.

“Do you intend to discuss the border villages,” he said, “or continue mistaking personal history for governance?”

Your mouth twitched.

Only slightly.

Mor saw it.

Cassian definitely saw it.

Rhysand looked as though he was reevaluating several decisions at once.

Good.

That meant they were listening.

You took one careful sip of cold tea and set it back down.

“Now,” you said pleasantly, as though you hadn’t just gutted the room and asked for the next topic. “Shall we return to the villages, or would anyone else like to confuse emotion with policy first?”

Cassian muttered something under his breath.

Azriel looked down.

Rhysand looked at you for a long moment.

Then, finally, he said, “The villages.”

You smiled.

“Excellent.”

Beside you, Eris reached for his wine.

Not to drink.

To hide the fact that he was smiling.

You leaned toward him just slightly.

“Poorly done,” you murmured.

His gaze slid to you.

“What was?”

“Hiding your amusement.”

Then, so quietly only you could hear:

“I wasn’t trying very hard.”

Taglist

@illyriassweetheart

@Sleepybesson

[helenajm]

“The Line You Don’t Cross”

(canon • Eris/Reader old friends • Azriel mate-bond tension • jealousy • possessive Azriel • smut)

Warnings:

⚠️ Explicit content (18+) Strong sexual themes, jealousy, possessive behavior, dominance/submission dynamics

Masterlist

_____

Eris Vanserra was already smiling when he saw you.

That fox-like grin, sharp and bright and entirely too pleased with himself. He swept into the River House like he owned it, autumn-red hair gleaming, courtly confidence dripping off him like perfume.

“There you are,” he purred, striding toward you with long, elegant steps.

You didn’t even have time to greet him before he leaned down and brushed a warm kiss—not on your cheek, but dangerously close to your jaw.

“You get lovelier every time I see you,” he murmured.

Your breath hitched. Azriel’s shadows snapped like a whip.

Eris didn’t flinch.

Of course he didn’t.

He’d always delighted in fire and danger.

He turned his head lazily toward the corner of the room, where Azriel stood so still he might’ve been carved from onyx.

“Relax, Shadowsinger,” Eris drawled. “Old friends are allowed to say hello.”

Azriel didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

Didn’t breathe.

But every shadow in the room slowly gathered behind you, like a wall of midnight forming at your back.

Eris smirked.

“Oh, he’s trying so hard,” he whispered teasingly, only loud enough for you to hear. “Trying not to tear me apart. Trying not to drag you away. Very commendable. Very… controlled.”

You elbowed him gently.

“Stop provoking him.”

“Me?” Eris placed a hand to his chest in mock innocence. “I’m simply appreciating beauty.”

Azriel’s hands curled at his sides.

You felt the bond thrum like a burning wire.

Possessive, hot, barely-contained.

But he said nothing.

He was trying.

Trying not to control.

Trying not to frighten you.

Trying to respect your history with Eris.

Eris, of course, noticed.

And leaned in closer.

“So,” he murmured, fingers trailing a lock of your hair with deliberate slowness, “tell me—has your mate always watched you like you’re his next breath, or is this a recent development?”

This time, the shadows lashed the floor.

Azriel’s voice was low, calm, deadly.

“Eris.”

Eris smiled wickedly.

“Oh, there he is.”

__

Later—when dinner ended, the wine was finished, and Eris had said every flirtatious, infuriating thing imaginable—you placed a gentle hand on Azriel’s shoulder.

He was too quiet.

Too still.

“Are you okay?” you asked softly.

He didn’t answer immediately.

Then—

“I don’t want to cage you,” he said quietly, voice thick with restraint. “I don’t want to tell you who you can speak with. I don’t ever want to be that male.”

Your heart cracked a little.

He meant it.

He truly meant it.

“But,” he breathed, looking away, “when he touched you—when he spoke to you like that—I wanted to—”

He stopped.

Every muscle in his body coiled tight.

You stepped closer. “Azriel. Look at me.”

He did.

And the look in his eyes…

Mother above.

Dark.

Raw. The bond frenzy is still there

Territorial in a way he had never let himself show.

“Tell me the truth,” you whispered. “What did you want?”

His breath shook.

“I wanted to put you against the nearest wall,” he murmured, voice rough velvet, “and remind you who you belong to.”

Heat shot through you so violently you had to grip his forearm.

The shadows curled around your hips like greedy fingers.

“Azriel…”

He backed up a step, shaking his head as if trying to clear it.

“I shouldn’t— I’m trying to control it. I don’t want you to think you’re—”

You grabbed his face in your hands.

“I’m yours,” you whispered fiercely. “I want you to lose control. I don't know if that's toxic, but it turns me on.”

His pupils blew wide.

Shadows exploded across the room.

And Azriel was suddenly there, mouth crashing onto yours, hands gripping your waist so hard you gasped.

All the restraint was gone.

All the quiet softness stripped away.

This was raw Azriel.

Mate-bond Azriel.

The male who had been silently tortured all night.

He lifted you as if you weighed nothing, slamming your back into the wall, breath hot against your throat.

“You think I didn’t see him touching you?” he growled softly between kisses. “You think I didn’t notice how close he stood? How he looked at you?”

Your legs wrapped around him instinctively.

You tugged his hair; he groaned—low, broken.

“I didn’t want him,” you whispered against his lips. “I wanted the male who’s about to—”

He cut you off with a kiss that felt like he was staking a claim on your soul.

Then he pulled back just enough to look you dead in the eyes.

“Tell me,” he rasped, “tell me you want me to claim you properly.”

Your breath hitched.

“Azriel—”

His forehead pressed to yours, his voice shaking, almost feral: “Say it.”

“I want you,” you whispered. "Take me".

Something inside him snapped.

He let out a sound you’d never heard—deep, primal, utterly possessive—and carried you across the room with urgency that stole the air from your lungs.

His mouth was everywhere—your throat, your shoulder, the place where your pulse raced fastest.

Your hands clawed at his leathers.

His shadows wrapped your wrists gently, reverently, like they were holding you in place for him.

He growled into your skin.

“You’re mine.”

Heat tore through you.

“Yours.”

He kissed you again—rougher, deeper—lifting your hips.

The last thing you saw before he lowered you to the bed was Azriel’s eyes—wild with need, burning with love, and completely, devastatingly yours.

His body covered yours.

The shadows dropped the lights.

You gasped as Azriel's mouth found yours, his kiss deep and demanding. His hands roamed your body, tracing every curve with a possessive urgency. He licked your lips, teasing them apart, and his tongue delved into your mouth, exploring and claiming.

You could feel his restraint unraveling, his need for you overwhelming.

He moved to your neck, his lips and tongue leaving a trail of fire as he kissed and licked his way down to your collarbone. His hands cupped your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples through the thin fabric of your dress, making you arch into his touch.

You could hear his breath hitch and feel his heart racing against your chest.

Azriel's mouth continued its journey, pulling down the fabric of your dress to expose your breasts. He took one nipple into his mouth, sucking and nipping until you cried out, your fingers tangling in his hair. His other hand slipped between your thighs, his fingers finding your clit and circling it with expert precision.

You were a mess of sensation, your body aching for more. Azriel lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the nearest table. He laid you down, his shadows keeping you in place, and he pushed your dress up, exposing your most intimate place. His eyes were dark with desire, his breath ragged as he looked at you, laid out before him like a feast.

He knelt, his hands spreading your thighs wide, and his mouth was on you, his tongue licking and tasting, driving you wild. You bucked against his face, your hands gripping the edge of the table as he brought you to the brink of ecstasy faster than ever. Just as you were about to fall over the edge, he pulled back, a wicked smile on his face.

Azriel stood, his cock hard and ready, and he thrust into you in one smooth motion. You cried out, your body stretching to accommodate him. He began to move, his hips snapping against yours, each thrust deeper and more intense than the last. The table shook beneath you, his shadows keeping it steady.

"You're so tight," he growled, his voice strained. "Tell me to slow down, that it's too much."

"No," you gasped, your nails digging into his back. "Don't stop. I can take it."

His smile was feral, his eyes wild. He picked up the pace, his body slamming into yours with a force that left you breathless. You could feel the pleasure building, your body coiling tight, ready to explode.

Azriel's movements became erratic, his body trembling as he reached his peak. He let out a roar, his cock pulsing as he spilled his seed deep inside you. He didn't stop there; he pulled out and painted your breasts with his essence, marking you with his scent.

He lifted his fingers to your lips, coated with his release, and you opened your mouth, taking them in, licking and swallowing every drop. Azriel watched, his eyes heavy-lidded, his chest heaving as he came down from the intensity of their encounter.

He leaned down, his body covering yours, and he kissed you gently, his touch soft and tender. His shadows wrapped around you, cocooning you in warmth and comfort. He held you close, his heartbeat steadying against yours, and you knew that in this moment, you were completely and utterly his.

Masterlist

[merymoonbeam]

What misdirect is the Sarah saying how she had to act all smile-y when acotar released and people were coming to her gushing about tamlin and feyre...and she had to smile and nod and "yeah" when she knew book 2...feysand is an endgame. That's misdirect bc you dont wanna give spoilers.

What is not misdirect is an author going 3 book in the original series + writing 3 other books in another series. Building this whole mate bond plot with asteri who corrupted the Cauldron which is the deciding factor(as far as acotar fae knows) in mate bonds. Make the character who questioned said Cauldron being wrong about mate bond be in the same place when we learn asteri indeed messed with the Cauldron. Also go on a podcast talk about

Can you just quickly explain what that means in the world's mates

like your destined true love in a way, but it's complicated because there's a biological component to it where like you can be mated to someone that is like not actually your true love. Like there's like true true mates and then there's kind of like nature made a mistake made like Reese's parents did not love each other. Like it was not a great relationship. Um, but they were mates and it was like a like there's a biological thing where they're like we want to be together but then it's like we're [___] miserable with each other especially as moms. So it's like it's tricky but then when you find your perfect mate like Rhys and Feyre. Cassian and Nesta like that is like the like last little piece of your soul that was like kind of a little broken and is now like you found your person.

is elain rejecting the bond

I think Elaine's got like her own trauma and [___] that she's going through right now. I mean like imagine like being transformed into like a whole new body, a whole new lifestyle like you are gone from like a I don't know and like the human world there like what 60 years is a good life to suddenly like centuries like a millennium like the world looks very different and like surprise like you've been like forcibly like essentially married to like a stranger who also was like involved in bringing you into this world and like betraying you and like shoving you into cauldron. It's like a lot. She's proc she's got a lot of [____ ] that she's processing. And so like exploring like a concept of a free will like what does that look like with a mating bond? What like what does that mean? And like does nature like get it wrong sometimes? Does it get it right sometime? Like what? And like that again like as a writer l have to be like very I'm like I like to like find things that like make me interested. Like you get mated to someone and like you don't want to be mated. I'm like, like what what do you do? Like you're stuck with this person. Like what? Like what do you do? But like I mean the guy's like hot, but it's like what if it's not? Like you don't know. Like it's just it's something that like I really like find to be an interesting concept versus like Feyre and Nesta where it was so easy for them. Like nature picked,right.

So this is not what misdirect is.

This is an author telling you what she finds interesting in the concept of a mate bond. Is it right? Is it wrong? What do you do when it is wrong......again this is not spoiling the book. This is what she has always written in her books. THESE THING ARE CANON. she didnt spoil a single stuff.

She did write Rhys explaining how it is biological. She did write Elain having her own free choice. Again said by Rhys. She did write how Feyre and Rhys see themselves lucky bc they are "true love" not just biological thing for them. She wrote all of the things she said in that podcast.

and you as the logical person should do the math of

The question is about Elain.

Elain nearly kissed Azriel when her mate was upstairs.

Elain has always been distant to her mate(mated to someone you dont wanna be mated)

So...what can Elain do? Will she roll over like good little dog(hint hint nesta comparing her to a dog and that actually being wrong said by cassian) to mating bond or will she do as she pleases...choose her own free will?

And no...choosing your supposed mate is not a choice. We went over this before.

Like this is not hard science...a little bit logic people. PLEASE!

[spicydelusion]

𖤓 Title: The Alpha’s Mate Is a Vampire | original short story

𖤓 Genre: Fantasy Romance, Dark Paranormal Romance, Supernatural Thriller, Fantasy Erotica

𖤓 Word Count: 6.9k | not edited

𖤓 Main Characters: Vampire!Seraphine Lyra, Werewolf!Silas Draven

𖤓 Tropes: Fated Mates / Soul Bond, Enemies to Lovers, Forbidden Love, Alpha Male / Possessive Love Interest, Monster Romance, Protective Hero / Dangerous Heroine, Memory Loss, Touch-Starved, Rescued from Death, Bloodlust Equals Lust, semi-slow burn, slight angst

𖤓 Content Warnings: adult content (18+), Violence / Blood / Gore, Death / Murder, Power Imbalance, Trauma / Memory Loss, Dark Themes (ebetrayal, manipulation, loss)

𖤓 Summary: For centuries, the Draven werewolves and the House Vire vampires have been at war. When Alpha, Silas Draven, loses his brother to a vampire ambush, he takes matters into his own hands, traveling into enemy territory to investigate a strange new presence-only to discover a lone, newly turned vampire on the edge of the woods.

But when he finally gets close enough to touch her, the mating bond triggers, and Silas is bound by ancient werewolf law to protect her - even if it means betraying everything he's sworn to uphold.

And Seraphine? She doesn't remember her human life, or how she died. She only knows two things: Blood calls to her, and so does he. As they run from hunters, secrets unravel. The vampire queen wants her back, wants him dead, and she was never just some random girl chosen at random. She was made to destroy him.

It was cold, late on a December Night in the dense Ashben woods. 

Silas sat on the boulder in the one small clearing, staring down at the lifeless body resting on the blanket of snow. He was unable to blink, unable to look away. He was feeling everything. 

Grief. Rage. Desolation. 

He had felt like this only one other time in his life, and it wasn't when his parents died, or when he had to relocate his pack because of another vampire attack, but when he lost his mate. 

The Mate.

The one he hadn't given anyone an inch for. She was human, yes. But she wouldn't have been after the bite. He was dead set on turning her, marking her as his own. She was sure she wanted it, too. She was never afraid, she stood by him through everything.

And then she vanished, without a single trace, which wasn't like her at all. Silas was sure of it. 

His best friend, his brother, was there for him. Every hour, every second. Silas wanted to track her again, or try to, he was right there asking which way. He was always above the pack when it came down to it, and the one person who has been there for him through every other thing in his life prior, now he's dead, too.

"I'm sorry, brother." He speaks low, rough, "It was never supposed to end this way." 

He knew exactly who was at fault for taking his bother from him. Who would pay for this challenge soaked in blood.

That bitch from the Ashben Caves, the one who calls herself Queen Vysaria. 

She's wanted Silas dead, and anyone close to him dead, since before she took her Mother's place as ruler over the House Vire Vampires. But the whole House wants that. It's been a long and exhausting vendetta coming from them, and something that should have ended centuries ago.   

It goes back to 1872, to Silas' many-great-grandparents, who are the ones that started the Draven Pack. From creating their own to taking in lone wolves who were lost or abandoned. They were good people, up until the first drop of blood was spilled by Sorenthas, the founder of House Vire.

A twig snapping in the near distance earns an immediate low growl from Silas. His eyes flicker red as they scan the tree line in front of where the sound came from. He slides down off the boulder, right in front of his brother's body, protective, but ready. 

"Easy." Korra comes out, hands half lifted, "Just came to see.." Her eyes drop to Soren, "If you needed help."

"If I needed help, I would have asked. Go back to the pack, Korra." 

She doesn't move yet, watching him. He turns, bending down to straighten out the Draven necklace around his bruised neck.

She takes a few steps forward, "I don't think you should be alone, Si." 

"I said.. go back." 

"No, if that's an order I'm disobeying it." She shrugs, watching as he stays crouched, "I'll sit over there, but whether you believe it or not, you're vulnerable right now." She walks over to the half rotted fallen tree and sits down, her eyes never leaving him.

"She always was a persistent thing." Silas mumbles, more to himself, maybe his brother. He doesn't glance back, but he's already irritated with knowing she's got that stupid smirk plastered on her lips. 

"I heard that." 

Silas doesn't respond. He just stays crouched, his warm hand resting on his brother's cold arm for another long moment. He still couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that he was really gone. 

"Silas." 

"If you're just going to-" 

"Look!" 

He turns his head, immediately standing up, "Korra, behind me." His eyes never leave the figures that appear from the trees, "You're in the wrong territory." 

The first figure steps forward, pushing down the hood of her cloak, "Silas Draven." She speaks, calm, "Relax, I am like you. Wolf." She lets a slight flash of disgust slip at her next words, "Not one of those rotting corpses in silk." 

Silas' eyes never leave her, "Still doesn't answer the question on what you're doing in my territory." 

"I heard about what happened." Her eyes flick down to Soren and back, "I want to offer my condolences. House Vire did the same thing to me." 

Silas doesn't speak for a moment, he gives her a curt nod, swallowing as he finds the words, "So." He starts, "What? You want to form an alliance?" 

"Yes." 

Silas blinks, not expecting her to say that, "What?" 

"I said, yes." She steps forward, "I am Ravena." Her eyes glowing a faint red - Alpha. 

Just like Silas. 

"Ravena." He repeats, "You're from-" He stops, correcting himself, "You lead the Nightborne pack." 

She nods, "Precisely, and I believe that if you and I work together, we can take down that bloody House Vire Cave for good." 

Silas doesn't answer, but the red flicker in his eyes says enough. He turns his head slightly, speaking to Korra but not looking away from Ravens, "Take them back to the pack. Tell them I said to listen to them." He doesn't waste a second, he turns, scooping up his brother in his arms and walking him to the pack burial site, "I'll be there soon."

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Silas gets the last shovel full of dirt over the fresh grave when two of his wolves break through the tree line, "Silas." They stop, seeing what he's doing, "Shit. Sorry, we didn't-" 

Silas doesn't look back, "What is it?" 

They hesitate, then Raze speaks first, "One of Ravena's wolves caught up to them, says there's a bloodrat on our land." 

"Her wolf didn't enagage with it." Tavric cuts in, "They said they didn't want to act on something that was your call." He keeps his eyes on Silas as he turns to face them, "They respected the boundaries." 

"One of hers?" 

"Vysaria's." Raze nods, "Yeah, he said it had to be. He smelled a lot of blood, which makes sense, you know how she likes things to be messy." 

Silas slams the blade of the shovel in the ground with a sharp stab, "Where?" 

"By the creek. Right on the border of our land." 

Tavric cuts in lowly, "..and hers." 

Silas jaw works tighter, "Go back to the pack, I'll handle it." 

"You can't-"

"Go back to the pack." Sila's eyes flash red, then he starts moving, "Tell the others, but do not let anyone leave the camp. You know this could be a trap."  

"Howl if you need us. We'll hear it." Raze calls out lowly, knowing his wolf hearing will pick it up. A faint growl sounds in return, acknowledging that Silas heard them. 

Tevric looks at Raze, "What should we do?" 

"We follow orders." Raze shrugs, "And hope that whatever is up there watching over us, helps him come back, alive." 

Down by the creek, the smell of iron is growing stronger and stronger the closer he gets. 

He crouches down, hand bracing on the tree as he watches and listens in. He can hear the water flowing under the frozen surface, snow falling off distant tree branches, and then, her. 

"I-I don't know what I'm doing." A woman whispers frantic, hands shaking as she rinses them off in the creek, "I didn't- oh, god.. I didn't mean it." 

Silas froze. 

He knew that voice, knew exactly who it belonged to. 

Seraphine. 

He doesn't move, part of him can't. He just stares, locked onto the way she splashes water onto her arms, her hands shaking harder as it drips off her skin into the white snow red. 

No, he thinks, biting back a growl, no, there's no way. 

He finally finds the strength to stand, stepping out slowly, his hands half raised. 

She turns, stumbling backwards, and the look on her face when she looks at him, death by a thousand cuts would have hurt less.

"Who-who are you?" 

He tilts his head, face falling slowly. 

She doesn't remember me, "Seraphine." He speaks cautiously, "Ser, it's Silas." 

"How do you know my name?" She doesn't blink, just stares at him wide eyed, like a lamb before a wolf, "I don't- I don't know anyone named Silas." 

His hands drop heavy to his sides, eyes scanning over her slowly. 

No wild honeysuckle and skin-warmed vanilla scent he breathed in like it was oxygen. 

It's just ozone and iron now. 

No color to her skin, she was pale, really pale. She always had a faint tan on her skin. Even in winter. 

No life in her eyes that once held the colors of the ocean on a clear day. 

They're dark, almost black with a hint of that vampire red. 

No heartbeat that he used to fall asleep to in her chest. 

It's silent, and he hates it. 

"Vampire." He breathes, barely audible, but she catches it. Her head snaps towards him, "Is that what I am?" 

He nods slowly, "Yeah, Seraphine.." It almost physically pains him to say it, "You heard that, and I barely spoke it." 

She doesn't say anything, but he doesn't stop looking over her. He notices the way her chest doesn't rise and fall like it should. The way her lips are stained red, how the blood splatter lays on her cheeks and runs down her neck, staining the collar of her sweater. 

He slowly walks up to her, each step slow, deliberate, giving her time to run if she wants, if she must, and for some reason, she stays. 

She stays planted, eyes following him, but she doesn't speak, doesn't move an inch. She doesn't feel afraid, she doesn't feel anything right now, honestly. 

He stops in front of her. He's close, but not as close as he'd like to be, and his eyes search hers. He's feeling everything all over again, the heartbreak, the grief, the emptiness. He reels back the red that threatens to flicker through his eyes, "What did they do to you, Lunara?" His voice cracks lowly, jaw tightening as the name only he called her doesn't make her smile like it used to, "They made you forget, didn't they?" 

She shrugs, "I have no idea what you're talking about." 

Silas' jaw clenches, "That's okay." He shakes his head, "It's okay." 

It wasn't, not even close. He's using every ounce of restraint he has to stop himself from hunting down Vysaria right then and there. He stays still, planted in front of her, "Can you remember anything, Seraphine? Anything at all?" Without thinking, his hand comes up, his knuckle dragging along her jaw, barely a brush. 

The world shattered.

The bond didn't return.

It detonated.

A surge of something ancient and visceral roared through him, a snapping tether pulled taut between soul and soul, between what she was and what she'd become. It wasn't soft. 

It wasn't gentle. 

It felt like being gutted and branded in the same breath.

His knees almost buckled. His wolf surged to the surface, howling in recognition and agony. She smelled different, wrong, and cold. 

But the bond didn't care. 

His blood didn't care.

It knew her.

Mine, it screamed, but all he could feel was the burn of betrayal under his skin, twisting with want, "Seraphine." He breathed, eyes glossing over as they locked onto hers, "Tell me you felt that." He pleaded, "Please, Tell me.. tell me you felt something." 

Seraphine couldn't answer, as soon as she parted her lips to speak, it was like something called to her, and her body obeyed. She moved, fast, inhumanly fast, jumping across the creek, the boarder, and moved towards the caves. 

"Wait-" Silas steps forward, hand half raised like he wants to go after her, but he stops himself, knowing if he crosses alone, there won't be a chance for him to try getting her back. 

He gives it a few more minutes, pacing, thinking, maybe the bond snapped back into place for her, too? 

Was it too much on top of what she was already feeling when I found her? He lets out a low, frustrated growl, "Fuck." He looks back at where she disappeared to and turns, heading back towards his pack.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

"Welcome back, Seraphine." 

Seraphine stood before the stone throne Vysaria sat upon, blood still drying, still pale and miserable, but one thing that's different is how she feels. She definitely felt something, something that, that Silas man was begging her to feel.

She's confused. She isn't sure what it means, why it feels almost normal to her. She was told she wouldn't be able to feel anything other than hunger for blood and anger towards those Vysaria directed it at. 

She gives a small nod of her head, "Hello, Vysaria." 

"Tell me darling." She leans forward, wicked smirk upon her lips, "How was your first official night out at your new being, hm?" 

Seraphine blinks, "Oh, it-" She shakes her head slightly, "It was.. nothing like I had expected."

"Explain." Vysaria tilts her head ever so slightly, "Was it.. the blood, or did something else catch your attention?" 

Is she talking about Silas, she thinks, and in that instant, the bond tugs at her from the inside, weaving through her dead interior like it belongs there, don't say his name! 

She jolts slightly, that last thought wasn't hers. 

She glances at Vysaria who's studying her, and before she could speak, Vysaria cuts her off with a sharp clap, which makes the other vampires in the cave go silent.

"Bring in the witch!" 

To the left, stone scrapes against stone and the faint sound of a struggle can be heard like it's right next to them. Seraphine doesn't blink, her eyes stay fixed on the cave hall, watching the shadows grow closer. 

Two vampires have hold on a woman, older, long grey hair and shackled at the wrists and ankles. Her head stays down, hands folded together as they haul her by her biceps. 

"And there she is!" Vysaria claps happily, "Just the woman I wanted to see, how nice of you to join us!" 

The witch doesn't respond, Vysaria doesn't like that. She stands from her throne, slowly walking down the stone steps over to her. 

Her hand slides to the back of the woman's head and she grips, tilting it back to make her look at her, "You look at me when I am speaking." Her eyes grow dark, veins flickering black under her skin around her eyes, "Or I will remind you just how good your granddaughter tasted, how her screams of fear and pain added a special kind of taste to her blood." 

"What.. do you want?" The witch asks lowly, exhausted, "No, instead, why don't you just do what you're good at-" her voice grows louder with each word, "and drain me the hell dry!" 

Crack! 

Vysaria backhands her, immediately grabbing her chin, "Listen here, witch. The only reason you're still alive is because you're the only witch who didn't cloak themselves in time." She smirks, laughing soft but maniacal, "But don't worry, after you do this spell for me, I'll let you rest." 

The witch stares at her, knowing that there's no nice promise within that, "What do you want?" 

"What I need, is for you to get into this one's head." She motions to Seraphine, "I'm getting the feeling she isn't being fully honest with me." She glances around the room, "And you all know how much I hate liars." 

Murmurs of agreement flood through the room and then it's silent again. 

Vysaria looks at Seraphine, "I want to know, final chance I must add.. how your first outing as a vampire was." 

Vampire. 

Suddenly Seraphine is standing back in the clearing by the creek. Hearing him say that word, feeling that subtle brush from his knuckle on her cheek. The feeling that ripped through her then, is happening again. 

Lie. Lie for me, Lunara. 

The man, from the woods, that was Silas.

"It was, exhilarating." Seraphine finally speaks, "Moving as fast as I did, being able to overpower people like that.." She takes a deep breath, a smile slowly forming on her lips, "I don't remember my life before this, and I don't think it matters." 

It does. She knows it, but for some reason, she's listening to the voice inside her head. 

His voice. 

Vysaria straightens up, "Now that, is more like it, yes?" She walks over to her, fingers tilting her face towards her, "And there was no one else in the woods?" 

Seraphine speaks clear and sure, "No. It was just me, and the ones I had killed." A smirk toys at her lips, because despite the bond with Silas, she was still what Vysaria made her to be.

"Hmm." She jerks get head back, speaking more to herself than anyone, "that's odd." Her eyes narrow, "Where did you go? Did you cross the creek like I told you?" 

Seraphine nods, "Yes, that's where I tried to wash up after." 

Vysaria's eyes narrow even more, "And no one came?" 

"No. It was just me." 

"Alright then." Vysaria sighs and glances back to the witch, "Fact check it, will you?" 

The witch shakes her head, but a hard nudge from the one on her left causes her to scoff, "Fine. Come here, girl." 

Seraphine walks over, "What do I need to do?" 

"Just like you did before." 

Seraphine stares at her confused, she has no recollection of what she did before. Vysaria steps in, "Silly girl, put your hands on hers." 

Her hands lift slowly, picking up on more than what's being said, remembering Silas asking her if they made her forget. 

What this what he was talking about? 

The grip the witch takes on her hands causes her head to snap down, eyes fixating on the soft glow that slowly radiates from within their palms. 

After a minute or so, the witch slowly lets go of her hands, "She was alone." Her eyes flick from Seraphine to Vysaria, "The one you wanted there, did not show." 

"Who was to show?" Seraphine questions, and Vysaria brushes it off with a quick deflection, "Everytime someone joins our family, I hand pick someone for you to feed on, someone who I know would be rather tasty, but it seems like something happened, but I assure you, I will get to the bottom of it, and you will have your delectable binge." 

Seraphine nods slowly, "Right.. okay." She looks back to the witch and then steps back, "Am I free to go?" 

"Sure, but don't travel too far, my darling. Dinner will be soon, and trust that you do not want to miss it." 

With a simple nod, she turns, quickly moving further into the cave with her speed, stopping around the curve and pressing her back to the stone wall. 

Her mind felt like it was spinning. 

That pull she felt in the woods. Silas. The man the witch said about. 

Did she know it was Silas? 

Did the witch lie to Vysaria? 

What exactly did she do to my mind? 

Her ears perk at the sound of soft chatter, her vampire hearing that they trained her to use over the last few weeks picking up every syllable like she's a part of the conversation. 

"He had to of been there. There's no way he wasn't." 

"I bet you that witch lied." 

"No, her heart didn't spike, I know when she lies, and that.. wasn't a lie." 

"It doesn't make sense, she was on his land. Covered in blood. One of those instinct-borrowed mutts was sure to catch her scent." 

Instinct-borrowed mutts, Seraphine thinks, What is that supposed to mean? 

She barely finished her thought when Vysaria's voice comes down the hall, "Seraphine, darling. Can you come back out here for a moment?" 

She waits a second, then pushes off the wall, moving fast to where the queen had called for her, "Yes, Vysaria?" 

Vysaria turns slowly, her grin spreading wider, "Come. Have a seat with me." She walks up to her stone throne again, sitting down, "Seriously. Come, sit. I want to talk to you." 

Before Seraphine takes a step, another sharp clap from Vysaria cuts through the low chatter, "Clear the cave." 

Within seconds, it's just the two women. 

Seraphine walks up the steps, slowly sitting down on the smaller throne next to her, the one her right hand woman, Aryasta, usually sits in. 

She doesn't say anything, she just sits poised, hands in her lap. 

Vysaria studies her, "When I gave you the run down of what you are, there are.. some things, I had left out." She leans forward slightly, "Are you ready to learn what those things are?" 

Seraphine nods, "Yes, I am. I want to know everything about what I am. What being.. a vampire, means." 

A delighted giggle slips from the Queen's lips, "I hand picked you, did you know that?" 

Seraphine shakes her head, "No, I didn't." Her eyes narrow ever so slightly, "Why me?" 

"Because you, my dear.." She reaches over and curls a dark strand of hair around her finger, "Are the key to ending something once and for all." 

Before Seraphine can interject another question, Vysaria speaks, "No need, I'll tell you." She drops her hand, "I picked you, because you are the one weakness my enemy has. When he sees you, like this-" she snorts, shaking her head, "Oh that, that will be even better than killing him myself." She pauses, "Mm, maybe not. Wouldn't want to get ahead of myself now, yeah?" 

"Who did you take me from?" 

"I see the memory wipe is still holding up, I supposed that old bat is good for something." Vysaria flicks her brows up, scoffing as she leans back, "You wouldn't have lasted with them, trust me, Seraphine. You belong, with me. With us, here in the House Vire." 

"I feel like I do." Seraphine nods, "I don't feel like I belong anywhere else." 

You belong with me, Lunara, you are mine. 

Seraphine straightens just a little, causing Vysaria'a brow to cock upward, "What was that? Just now. That little.." Her finger flicks up and down, "Twitch." 

"I've been getting pains in my jaw." She lies, rather well at that, "Like, my fangs are threatening to burst through but then they just.. don't." 

Her chin is grabbed and she's given a quick, "Open."

She obliges, parting her lips and looking up as her teeth are inspected. 

"Drop them." 

"I can't, it only happens when I smell blood." 

Viysaria looks at her, "Still? You've been a vampire for almost a month, you don't have control over them yet?" 

Seraphine leans back as the grip on her jaw is released, "Gregor told me that it'll come to me. He didn't-" 

"Gregor!" Vysaria cuts her off sharply, "Gre-gor!" 

Gregor appears in a blink, "yes, my queen?" 

"You have not been working with Seraphine?" 

"I have." Gregor nods, "She said she was ready." His eyes flick to Seraphine, "Whatever she told you, she's lying." 

Vysaria tilts her head, "Oh?" She looks at the woman next to her and then back to him, "I just witnessed that she couldn't drop them on command, and you want to say she's lying?" 

Gregor swallows, "Look, I can explain, I-"

"Shut up." 

Somehow, Gregor goes even more pale than he already is, but he listens. 

Vysaria stands, "What were you doing when you should have been training her? Who took your place?" 

"Link. Link took my place." 

"Still the answer of what were you doing instead is still unanswered.." 

"I was with Cresillia.." 

"Cresillia.." Vysaria repeats, "How interesting." Gregor goes to protest but her hand lifting stops him. She shakes her head, looking past him, "Cresillia! Here, now!"  

A blonde woman appears within a blink next to Gregor, her eyes shifting between all three of them in the room, "What is it, Vysaria?" 

"Oh, sweetheart." She laughs, "You know exactly what this is. Gregor here, he told me everything, and by everything.. I mean.." She steps down one step, "He told me that instead of taking the time I gave him to train the key to getting my revenge on the Draven Pack, he's been putting his time, into you.."

Cresillia's eyes grow wide, "No, no that's not- I killed his brother!" 

"You killed the brother of the alpha?" Her brows go up, "Now, why would you let someone else take credit for that? That is something that bumps you up in the ranks here, Cres." She bats her hand, "Fine, I'll spare you, but kill him." 

"What?" Cresillia snaps, "You want me to-"

"You heard me. Do it, or I'll throw you to that alpha wolf Silas myself and let you be the only time I let him kill one of mine." 

Alpha wolf. 

Wolf. 

Silas. 

Brother. 

Silas is a wolf. 

Seraphine keeps her eyes on the scene unfolding before her, but the wheels in her undead head are turning, hard. Silas is a wolf. Hating wolves is what they drilled into her head the moment she woke up a vampire. 

They're evil. Cursed. A problem for everyone. They don't deserve to live. They've been causing us issues since the beginning of our times.

The sickening sound of a neck being twisted so hard skin rips, snaps Seraphine out of her thoughtful daze and her eyes track the body that falls to the floor. 

Cresillia drops the head of Gregor, choking on a sob, "There. It's done, just what you fucking wanted!" 

A laugh echos off the cave walls, "Indeed it was, you may go, but remember this for next time. I'll have Seraphine here, take your head." 

Seraphine's eyes meet Cresillia's, but only for a moment as the blonde turns to leave the room, quicker than she came in. 

There's a moment of silence and then Vysaria's voice cuts through it, "Well, now that that is taken care of." She turns back to her throne and sits, "We will get you in control, and when you are really ready, that flea ridden mongrel Silas, won't see it coming." She looks over at Seraphine, "Now, where were we? Oh yes." She smiles, "Back to what I didn't tell you." 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Morning light starts to flicker through the trees, casting golden rays through the canopy, lighting up the snow in all different spots. 

Silas is up in a tree, eyes glued to the spot that still held his mate's boot prints in the snow. His mind relays seeing her, over and over again. 

The heartbeat-less chest.

The look on her face. 

The dark eyes. 

Pale skin. 

Blood. 

"Silas?" Korra calls out, "What.. are you doin' up there?" 

"Go home, Korra." 

"No. Not until you-"

A low, annoyed snarl slips from Silas, "Why can't you ever just listen." 

"And why can't you ever just talk to me?" She fires back, "Seriously.. I know I'm not Ser-"

"Don't." He drops down from the tree, landing right in front of her, "Don't you dare say her fucking name." 

She stares at him, watching as his eyes threaten to burn red, "I just-"

"Korra." His tone alone is a warning, "Don't." 

She scoffs, shaking her head as she looks to the side, eyes scanning the trees for a moment, "I understand you lost your mate, but some of us still care about you, Silas. You don't need to be such an-" 

"No." He cuts her off with a deep growl, shaking his head once and slow, "You don't understand shit, Korra. Don't pretend you do." He leans in slightly, "You haven't had your mate, the absolute love of your life vanish without a sound. You've never had to search, and search, and search until your brother convinces you that the pack needs you more than a goddamn ghost." He jaw clenches at his own words, "You never lost a blood brother within a month of losing her." 

Korra hears his voice break on the last line and she doesn't know whether to be pissed at him or comfort him, "Silas.." She shifts, hand raising instinctively, but she doesn't touch him, "I didn't-" she pauses, taking a breath, "I didn't mean it like that." 

"Then what way did you mean it, huh?" 

"I lost you." 

Silas stares at her for a second, "Oh don't- don't start that bullshit." He scoffs, half amused, "You knew from day one I wasn't your mate, and I wasn't ever going to be." He steps back, muttering under his breath, "Unbelievable." 

"What?" She scoffs, "You think Seraphine dying-"

"Korra." He warns more stern, but her voice just gets louder, talking over him, "No, no. You need to hear this, because you seem to be the only one who thinks that you're the only one hurting!" She keeps her eyes on him, "We all lost Soren, okay? He might have been your leading Beta, your best friend, your blood brother, but he was ours, too.. and you, you lost your mate. We know how fucking much you loved and cared about her, some of us more than others without even trying because we couldn't help but fall for you, too." 

Silas is silent, jaw working as he takes in her words, hating that she was partly right. 

She continues, "I have loved you since before she showed up, and I didn't push to break you guys up, I didn't talk bad about you, I just-"

He cuts her off, blunt and done, "Waited for her to finally be out of the picture before you told me this?" 

"What? No.." She blinks, "No, oh my god, Silas, I just-"

"Did you have something to do with her disappearance? You let your jealous rage take over and what, you finally fucking snapped?" His eyes glow a deep red at her silence, "Answer me!" 

"No! No, shit, Silas, NO!" Korra growls, "I didn't touch your precious Alpha Mate. I'm stupid enough to fall for someone I can't have, but I'm not stupid enough to do anything that drastic!" 

He stares at her, reading her heartbeat like a polygraph. 

"You're lying." 

"No, I'm not." 

"When you said you didn't do anything drastic, your heart rate spiked." 

Korra stares at him, "I didn't. Do anything. To Seraphine." She raises her brows, "What could I have possibly done?" 

"You tell me." Silas asks, challenge-like, "I'm waiting." 

Korra glares, shaking her head, "I'm not doing this. I didn't do anything, nothing to Seraphine, I barely spoke to her!" 

"Doesn't mean you didn't want her gone." 

"Screw you, Silas. I never-" She stops, breathing heavy as her anger rises, "I never touched her." 

Silas doesn't look away from her, clocking everything. 

Her erratic heartbeat. 

The nervous tinge to the sweat that's forming on her hairline. 

The way she's shaking. 

He leans in, voice low and ice-edged, the kind of quiet that makes bones ache, "If I find out you had anything to do with her disappearance..."

A pause.

His breath ghosts against her cheek as she turns her head, bracing, "I won't come for answers. I'll come for you."

He steps back, slow, eyes still locked on her. 

She slowly turns her head, eyes glossed over, "It was Melinda." 

Silas' blood goes cold in his veins, Melinda? 

Melinda was his mother's best friend, closest thing she had to a real sister, "She wouldn't." 

"She did." Korra sniffles, "She hated the idea of you being with a human." 

"I was going to turn her." 

Korra snorts, "Like that would matter, Seraphine wouldn't have lasted-" 

In a blink, Silas slams Korra against the tree, his hand tightening around her throat. His eyes burn crimson, voice guttural with rage, "You don't get to say her name anymore." he growls. "You lost that right the moment she vanished."

His grip doesn't falter.

"Let me make this as clear as I fucking can, I never wanted you. I never could. You were never worthy of being my mate... and you never will be." He growls lowly, "Get over yourself, and stop inserting yourself into situations that do not concern you." 

He pushes off of her, not giving her another look as he walks away. 

Korra finally lets out the breath she's been holding, eyes tracking him as he leaves the clearing. She doesn't move, she's fully disheveled by what just happened, that's never happened before. 

Her hand instinctively comes up, rubbing her neck as she turns, walking back towards the pack. 

Deeper in the woods, Silas follows the boarder line, the creek. His mind is one thing, and it has nothing to do with the pack. He's sniffing the air every so often, trying to catch that ozone and iron scent again, but nothing. 

Vampires can't walk in the sun, they'll burn, so he knows he has no chance of seeing her until sundown, if he's lucky. 

He lets out a defeated sigh, growling lowly to himself as he takes off running, shifting mid stride into his wolf form,  no longer man, but something older, something born for war.

Thick, black fur cloaks his hulking frame. Every muscle beneath that coat coils with raw, lethal power, carved by battles won and blood spilled. Jagged scars peek through the fur, silent reminders that this beast has survived what others couldn't.

Twin coals burn in his skull, a deep red color, not just glowing like usual, but seething with wrath. Now a predator's gaze that doesn't see you as a person, but as a threat. Or worse, like for Vysaria, prey.

His snarl in this form is lower, more hellish. 

This isn't just a wolf.

This is the Alpha.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

"Come to me." 

Seraphine sits up, narrowing her eyes at the voice. Her head tilts, hair moving behind her ear as she tries to get a better listen. 

"Seraphine. Come to me." 

That wasn't Vysaria, or one of her minions. It was the witch. 

What does she want with me? But Seraphine found herself up and walking before she could think anything else. She slips through the cave, quick, unseen. Two vampires stand guard outside of her stone cage.

"When night falls, you need to run. You need to find Silas and stay with him." 

Her body goes rigid, Silas, why Silas? Does she know about- is she in my head?

"I don't have much magic left.. not enough to break these cursed chains. But yes, I saw it. Last night. The bond that flared like fire in your blood." A pause, like wind passing over a grave, "He was yours. You were his. Fated. He was going to turn you, bind you to him completely. But that wretched she-wolf, that venom-hearted bitch in his pack sold you out. Struck a deal with the wretched queen who keeps me rotting in this tomb." Her voice sharpens, bitter and cracked with fury, "And now she has you, Seraphine. But not for long, she doesn't know you saw him, doesn't know the bond is still alive and defying all laws. Get out. And Find him, before fate forgets what it wrote for the two of you."

Seraphine stares at the floor, if she had a heart that worked, it'd be racing like horses right now. 

The witch's voice slips in one last time, quick, like she exhausted the last of her magic to do it, "Then kill her." 

She nods to herself, and then she's moving, going on like this conversation never happened. 

Meanwhile, another vampire, one of Vysaria's right hand women, Zinova, goes to the tomb. She motions for the stone to be moved, and the men comply. Stone scrapes against stone, allowing light to flood into the darkness behind it.

The witch raises her hand weakly, blinking within the shadow of her hand, "She's tasted the blood." Her voice is low, weaker than it's been, "She knows when to bite."

Zinova nods, glancing back at the men who pretend not to be listening in, and she moves with inhuman speed, snapping both of their necks and laying them down without a sound. She walks back in, bending down so she's eye level with the witch, "I never did this. If you get caught, you are on your own." She raises a brow, "Is there an understanding between us?" 

The witch nods, "You have my word. You get me out of here, you will never see my face again." 

Zinova nods again, her hands gripping the metal cuffs and snapping them with ease, "Do you have the final step for Seraphine?" 

The witch slowly bends her arm, reaching into her pocket and pulls out a tiny vile, "It doesn't look like much, but it will do the trick." 

The vile is plucked by the paler hand, rolling it in her fingers, the glittering blood being acknowledged. 

There's a moment of silence before Zinova breaks it, "I have always been quite fond of Seraphine, I did not know her prior, but I just know when someone like her doesn't deserve what has been done to her. I lost the love of my life, to Vysaria, no doubt, and I will see that she meets her end the way she deserves." 

"I trust you on that." The witch nods once, "Get that to Seraphine. Tell her to repeat these words three times before drinking it, Da mihi memorias meas." 

"Da migi memoriad meas." She repeats back to her slowly, "I will be sure she says it correct." She tucks the vile into her jacket pouch and holds out a hand, "Let me get you out of here." 

After some time, Zinova appears in the entry way of Seraphine's cave quarters. 

Seraphine shoots up from sitting down, and before she can get a sound out, Zinova is in front of her, "Do not. I am here to help." She holds up the vile between them, "This is from the witch. It is her blood. She uses the last of her magic to enchant it." 

Seraphine stares down at the vile for a second and her eyes drift back to the woman before her, "How do I know you aren't lying to me?" 

There's a short, impatient sigh, "Because I let the witch go and this was the trade for it. It will give you the memories Vysaria took." 

"You-" Seraphine stops, half shocked, "Do you know what Vysaria will do to you? I just watched her make Cresillia behead Gregor for going against her." 

"I can handle myself a lot better than either of those two ever could." She nudges the vile into her hand, "Vysaria took the love of my life away from me too, only difference is, yours isn't rotting in the dirt." 

Seraphine's eyes soften, "I'm sorry." 

"Do not do that." She shakes her head, "You have nothing to be sorry for, just.. drink that, but before you do, you must repeat da migi memoriad meas three times." 

Seraphine swallows, eyes dropping to the glittering vile in her hands, "I don't know how-" She looks back up at Zinova, eyes glossy, "-to repay you for this.."

"You can start by not crying and just taking it.. That would be great." There's no venom in her tone, but a tiny smirk on her lips, "And when the time comes, coming back to help me kill Vysaria." 

The smile on Seraphine's lips drops completely, dipping into something serious, "I will." She looks down at the vile again, pulling the small cork from the top and taking a deep breath, "Da migi memoriad meas. Da migi memoriad meas. Da migi memoriad meas." 

She downs the witch's blood in one gulp and she's immediately struck with the effect. She stumbles back into the wall, hands on her head as memories flash in her mind like a reel that's stuck on fast forward. 

Silas laughing, a laugh only she ever got to hear, "You're insane, Seraphine Lyra!" He laughs, eyes crinkling with pure joy as he pulled her in for a kiss that felt like everything, "And so, insanely mine." 

Her sitting on a rock, watching in total amusement as Silas and Soren would wrestle in their wolf forms, "You two are going to hurt one another!" She spoke through laughter, laughing harder when Silas growls playfully at her, a joking challenge in his own way, before going right back to getting after Soren.

The nickname he gave her for the first time, the one he said in the woods. It makes sense now, He stared at her, head tilted, eyes soft, small smile on his lips, "You're beautiful, Lunara, you know that?" Her cheeks flush, "Lunara?" He nods, gently brushing her jaw with his knuckle, "It means Moon, well.. Luna does, but Lunara, is specifically for you, the strong, fearless, soon to be Alpha Female of this pack, and because I'd bow to you, just like I do for the moon." 

Her head resting against his wolf body, warm and safe, The stars were bright through the opening in the canopy. Her head resting on the body of her mate. She would shift, even in the slightest, and he would nuzzle closer, let out a content whine, "I'm not going anywhere." She whispers, her forehead pressing into the fur on his neck, "I promise." 

It suddenly felt like Seraphine was suffocating. Zinova was right there, holding her up, "I got you, I got you. I know, the witch said it would hit you hard." She keeps her grip steady, "You're remembering everything you were made to forget." 

Somewhere deep in the Ashben woods, Silas skids to a sudden halt. He felt the shift deep in his core through the bond him and Seraphine still share. 

He felt the breakthrough that was just made, the one that told him she was coming back to him. 

She was coming home.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

• Thank you so much for reading! I hope to see you back for part two! If I kept going with this, it wouldn't be within reasonable short story limits, so I decided to break it up into two story parts. •

• Comments and votes are majorly appreciated! •

[an-autumn-maple-leaf]

Lucien’s Scent on Elain:

What if the reason Azriel could smell Lucien on Elain even though their mate bond is not accepted is because when they are in the same room together their magic reaches out to one another. Which if they are Carranam and their magic relies on one another to be powerful that could be maybe possible. So at this winter solstice party at the new River House Lucien and Elain for the first time is spending time in close proximity to one another. They might not be physically next to one another but they are in the same room. And Lucien is actually spending the night this solstice and sleeping under the same roof as Elain. Something that has not happened since WaR and in WaR is when we last saw Elain’s power truly working. So what if Elain and Lucien’s magic is reach out to one another, intertwining and that is why Azriel is able to smell Lucien on Elain when truthfully that should not be possible yet.

[queenquinzel715]

Vikings, Monsters, SOA, Peaky boys,AHS

1. Werebear Toric pt 1 Wrd count 2,313 Warnings: Angst in the beginning, implied smutt, fluff, women power lol (Y/n) P.O.V Finding you

Pt 2 18+

Pt 2.

Werebear Toric 18+

Y/n P.O.V

      I finally have the mate bond everyone was telling me about. It's only been three days since the ball, and I've been completely different. Toric has taken over the political side of my kingdom, so I could worry about my people. I've even helped in the woman's home. I make sure they get everything they need to start for themselves.

       Tonight is a full moon, and since I have goddess blood I must shift on the first full moon. I walk into Toric's office with a basket of honey biscuits I made this morning. He's told me that he'll eat anything with honey. His head snaps up as I walk in, I giggle to myself when I see him sniffing the air.

"What's you got there, honey bee?" He looks at the basket as I slightly swing it.

"Honey biscuits." I put the basket in front of him. "I actually have something to tell you."

      He stops mid bite to beckon me to his side of the desk. Once I'm there he pulls me to his thick thigh, giving me his full attention.

"As you know I have goddess blood, so that means on every full moon I must shift. It's only the first night though." I fidget as I talk to him.

     He grips my hip in his one large hands to stop my movements. I rest my hand on his wrist while I look up at him.

"We'll go into the woods if you need to just stop moving like that." He growls in his chest.

"That's not all Toric." I look down timidly. "My heat also starts the next morning."

     His body completely shakes as he growls, holding in a tight grip. He sits me on the desk, so he quickly gets a hold of himself. He gives me a quick kiss as he stands.

"Okay we'll shift at sunset, and then when you shift back to this gorgeous form we will come back to our chambers. Now it's your decision if I lock you inside alone or with me, and we mate fully." He looks me in the eyes as he gives me his plan.

"I want my mate with me." I move my hands along his chest before I lean my body into him.

       I'm moved back to his lap as we enjoy the biscuits. Me feeding him a piece made us start kissing, getting completely lost, but not for long, he had a lot of work to do if he was to spend a week with me without any interruptions. I give him a kiss on the cheek before I leave for the kitchen.

As I'm putting the food platters on the table at the foot of our bed when I noticed the sun was setting. I quickly grabbed the bag I put together that had a blanket, a couple of Torics shirts, and I almost ran out the door. However I'm blocked by my mate with a very amused face as he practically catches me.

"I take it you're ready Honeybee." He laughs as he smooths his hands down my arms.

"I was making sure everything was prepared for this week, and I lost track of time." I grumble at him. "But I am ready." I hold up the bag with a proud smile on my face.

"What do you got there?" He eyes the bag as it moves in the air.

"A blanket and two of your shirts. I thought it would be easier for me than a whole gown. Is that okay if I use one?" I smile when he pulls me close to him.

"Oh Honeybee, you wearing my clothes is something else that makes me grateful for your heat." His deep voice makes me lean against him.

       We began our walk to the woods, and I could sense Toric getting nervous even though his face is still plain. We get to our spot on the far left side of the border. When everyone was told I shift over here they don't come over here out of respect. Toric places the blanket down once we stop, and he helps me sit down. He however stays standing, causing me to look at him in confusion.

"Why won't you sit Toric?" I raise my hand to him.

"Because I have to be honest with you Honeybee." He lightly holds my hand. "When we shift I will not be a wolf. My mother had me before she found her true mate, and then had my brother." He looks so vulnerable. "I'm going to shift first so you know I won't hurt you."

      I began to say his name, but he stopped me. He steps behind a tree, and it's not long before I hear him shift. I hear the leaves crunching as he walks around. I gasp as a grizzly bear walks toward me with clothes in his mouth. I gently take the clothes, and place them on my lap. I'm completely amazed that my mate is a big bear. I run my hand up his snout to the top of his head, but when I move over to one of his ears I giggle. When I start to scratch them he leans his heavy head into my chest. I keep scratching for just a moment before I start to feel cramping in my lower stomach and back.

"Toric." I whimper. "I have to shift."

      I quickly step behind the tree and quickly throw my dress down. I still wasn't quick enough because when I shift my dress rips from it getting stuck on my head. I hold the dress in my mouth as I growl in frustration. I walk out dropping my dress on the blanket swatting at it with my paw. Toric gives me a soft roar before nudging my neck with his nose. I just lean my head into his neck and rub my head into his scent glands. He lets me keep rubbing my body to him until I'm completely sitting in front of him.

      Toric holds his big arms around me as he lays us down with his body curled around mine. I'm brought out of my peace when the scent of a deer. I'm rising up to go hunt it when I'm pushed back down with a grunt. Toric licks my nose before leaving me to go hunt. I give him a quick yap of excitement just as he walks through the bushes. My mate is hunting for me. I roll on my back, kicking my legs, yapping for my mate to hurry. I'm so wrapped up in my own head I didn't realize my mate was watching me act like a complete pup. Him nuzzling his face into my stomach made me jump. His eyes held amusement as he turned his head to the dead deer on the ground.

      After eating we lay back down. I fall asleep from the warmth of his fur, and when I wake I'm human. His deep snores tell me he's still sleeping, so I slowly reach the bag. I'm putting his shirt on as I hear him shift back to human, and wrap his arm around my stomach.

"How was your shift Honeybee?" His breath hits my shoulder as he leans closer grabbing his clothes.

"Great. I had great meat, and didn't need the blanket." I giggle.

"Speaking of meat. Please tell me what had you rolling and kicking around." He chuckles when I turn away from him. "Oh come on now."

I move my face back to him with a sigh. "I was happy I have a mate that hunts for me. I was just going to do it, because I'm used to doing it myself." I laugh.

"(Y/n) you are my mate, and you are meant to be a Queen." He grabs the bag, pulling the blanket out. "Which means…." He wraps me up in the blanket before lifting up like a bride. "You don't do anything, but get taken care of while I get you whatever it is you want." He carries me back to the castle.

      We have just walked into the kitchen when I feel a wave of heat causing me to whimper and grip Toric's chest. He then quickly gets us to our chambers, lightly laying me on the bed, and locking the doors. I'm whimpering as he walks back to me. When I can finally look at him I realize he hasn't had a shirt on this whole time, and just the thought of me touching him makes me whimper at him.

"You ready Honeybee?" He moves a hand up my leg.

      I don't respond, just move to my knees and lift my ass into the air. I need him now, and hearing the growl he releases lets me know he feels just like me. He moves his hands over my ass to my hips as I lean further to the bed. My chest is against the blanket when I hear him tear something, and it takes me seconds to figure out it was his pants. I'm beginning to pant when I feel him rub at my opening.

"Toric, please." I whine desperately.

"I got you, little mate. Just take it slowly." His voice goes deep as he slides inside me.

        He gets stopped at the barrier, but he just wraps his big arms around me giving me a kiss to the shoulder as he breaks through. I gasp loudly, gripping his arm while he keeps going until his hips are connected to mine. He doesn't move his arm, he just moves my hair to hold in his other hand as he kisses along my shoulders. My head leans back to his shoulder feeling my body relax under his, and he took this as a sign to move.

"Honeybee, you feel so good." He groans as he begins to move.

      I move my hips back to meet his every thrust, but I know it won't last long. I feel his grip on my hair tighten when I move my hips up and down. I smirk to myself when he growls in my back as he stands up, and begins to pull my head back. I moan out from him grinding into me, and the pain from my hair getting pulled.

"Mine." He growls into the air.

      He gives my hip a forceful push down, and just rams into me roughly, holding for a second.

"Toric please." I whine out while I try to move with him.

"What little mate? Tell me what you need." He mocks me.

"I need you." I move my hand back to try to grab him somehow.

"You need me or do you need…." He does finish, he just begins to ram faster this time.

"Yes." I scream out as my nails dig into the blanket.

      I feel my body lock up, my legs shake against his thighs, and my eyes squeeze shut. He pulls me up to his chest, his hand moves to my jaw, moving my face toward his, so he can kiss me deeply. His other hand moves up to play with my breast as he keeps pounding away at me hitting the same spot over and over again. He growls when I start locking up again, but doesn't let up he even goes faster.

"Let go Honeybee." His hand falls down to go back around my stomach holding me tighter.

       My head lazily falls back with a body crushing moan as I scratch his arm. I move my hips in circles to chase my release only for it to make us fall to bed with him covering me, and releasing deep inside of me. I look up at him with half open eyes, and lean my forehead against his cheek. We take a second to catch our breaths before he slowly pulls out, making me gasp.

"Just lay here I'll be back." He gently lifts me to the pillows.

     I smile to myself as I try to gather my body. Toric comes back with a soft linen with warm water on it from the basin next to the fireplace. I give a smile of thanks as he helps clean me up, but my head is thrown back with a moan when he moves over my clit. He smirks at me before he moves his fingers in circles. I grip the blanket as I lean up to moan at him.

"Toric...I cant."

"Just one more little mate." He leans up to kiss me quickly.

He keeps moving his fingers in circles, but when I lift my hips he pushes one inside. He curls his finger upward. I fall to the bed with an arch. I can't find my body as I throw my head back with an actual scream of release. With his finger in his mouth he comes to lay next to me. He covers us with the blanket I threw across the bed.

"Get some sleep when you wake I'll be here for you, my queen." He growls into my neck.

"I love you my mate." I tell him my voice is full of sleep.

"I love you as well my Honeybee." I comfortably wiggle myself to be on his knee, basically like I would be if we were sitting.

     My heat lasted the whole week, and poor Toric was so tired once it was over. I laugh when he gives me looks now when I tell him a full moon is coming. I do tell him he can lock me in if he can't do it this month. He just growls at me and bends me over, usually it's his desk. He finally met my mother when she came to tell us I was with child. Toric immediately dropped to his knees to place his forehead to my stomach. Our son, Ambrose was born in the middle of winter. If it wasn't for Toric's warmth I don't think I would've made it.

[lillianawayne99]

Now Let The Games Begin

The Awakening Chapter One

Genre: Fantasy, Romance, Action-Adventure

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: violence, mentions of death, magic, smoking, mate bond

Synopsis: A battle hardened general sacrificed herself to save her people. Encased in stone for thousands of years, Serephina must come to terms with being mated to not one, but four men in a world she no longer recognizes.

The Awakening | Masterlist

There was something solid and warm wrapped around my hand. How long had it been since I felt something? Decades? Centuries? It couldn’t have been millennia, could it? 

The years of being stuck in one position made my knees buckle and legs give out. Reaching out to brace myself, someone caught me before I could hit the ground. 

“Aroh? . . . yagd . . .” I could hear a masculine voice, though it was muddled as if I was underwater.

My eyelids felt as though they weighed several times their weight. I struggled to raise them, the bright sunlight quickly forcing them closed again. Letting my eyes adjust to the light, I warily opened them. 

The man holding me took in a sharp breath when I finally looked up. The moment my gaze landed upon his, it was as if the world disappeared until only the two of us were left. 

My lungs pulled in an involuntary breath when the invisible tether between us snapped into place, confirming what I had already suspected. 

In one swift movement, he pulled me up so I was standing against his chest. He cradled me with his arms around my waist as if I was delicate, precious, and must be protected at all costs. His eyes bore into mine despite the sun behind him casting a shadow over his face.

“Ierda,” The man’s voice was clearer this time, but I still couldn’t make out what he was saying.

I cleared my throat a few times and glanced down at where his chest was my eye level. I couldn’t remember the last time I had trouble speaking. How long was it since I stepped foot on that accursed battlefield? It felt like mere hours ago the sun shone for too long. The consequence of the spell performed to lock away the monster so many had died to defeat.

My legs began to sway beneath me, forcing me to grasp the man’s shirt to steady myself. I leaned into him with my head resting on his chest while I shook my legs out. Thank the gods he was being patient with me. I’d never been this frail. I could feel my skin buzzing with eons of collected magic, but my body was weak from being motionless for too long. 

I froze in place as I felt his familiar reach across the bond toward my dragon. A shudder ran down my spine as she unfurled deep within the recesses of my mind and came out of her hiding place. She greeted him like an old friend, a promising sign for the years ahead. 

Following Kenna’s lead, I raised my gaze at the same time the man brushed his knuckles across my cheek. When our gazes met, he rested his hand on my cheek and gently caressed my skin with the pad of his thumb. 

I thought I knew what to expect when the seal for the spell broke, but the man before me was beyond my wildest dreams. He was taller and more muscular than most men. His grey eyes contrasted perfectly with his rich brown, cool toned complexion. Most people would be intimidated by his large, imposing stature, but I was transfixed.

How long had I waited for this? How many people had placed their hands in mine, hoping the statue would come to life and they’d find true love? Or did people avoid me? Did they refuse to bring back the girl who could end the world?

The man supporting me dropped his hand from my cheek and returned his arm to where it had been wrapped around my waist. Fiddling with the material of his shirt, I cleared my throat and tested my voice until I was able to say something.

“Wh-What?” I finally croaked, my voice hoarse from years of disuse.

“Gadya ierda,” He spoke slowly, enough for me to understand we were speaking different languages. It was a good sign. I hoped.

Would it be strange if I kissed him? Had the tradition changed? What would he think of me if I did? I needed to understand him. I needed to understand a language in use today, but what if he rejects me because I kissed him too soon? 

The feeling of a large, calloused hand on my cheek pulled me out of my thoughts. My vision focused on his mouth then his lips were on mine. A chill so deep it became a furnace erupted from where our skin met. Our lips moved feverishly against each other, encouraged by the bond tying us together for the rest of our lives. 

A hunger neither of us could satiate until it was adequately fed took root deep inside each of us. Even if one of us rejected the other, which now seemed unlikely, we could never completely erase the other’s effect on our lives. My senses were overwhelmed by the taste of bamban smoke on his lips and smell of magic in the air. I’d heard about what the bond did to people, but this was beyond what I could have imagined. He was my drug, and I couldn’t get enough. 

He roughly grasped my rear in his hand and squeezed, eliciting a small groan from my lips. The intimate touch reminded me we were likely in a public space. I placed my hands on his chest and pushed, breaking the kiss. He rested his forehead against mine while we tried to catch our breath, holding me to his heaving chest. His arms were tightly wound around my waist and pressed to my spine, his muscles shaking with the strength he was holding back.

“Who . . . when . . . fuck,” I gasped out, attempting to figure out which question was more pressing.

“I am King Caedan.” Thank the gods I could understand him, and hopefully he could understand me.

“I’m Serephina.” I lifted my head to look around us for the first time. 

Nothing was how I remembered. We were currently standing in the courtyard of what appeared to be a city. Grandiose buildings towered over everyone. There was a crowd of people in a circle around us, none of them wearing clothes I was familiar with and most of the women were wearing trousers. 

“What year is it?” I took one last look at my surroundings before turning back to my mate. 

“9578 A.L.D.” He didn’t sound confused by my question, but the answer he provided only gave me more questions.

“A.L.D.?” I paid the ultimate price five thousand years after The Split. If people were no longer measuring time from the same date, how long had I been imprisoned?

“After The Long Day?” 

It had taken much longer than any of us could have anticipated. The unprecedented amount of magic coursing through my veins was no longer a surprise. I had spent the past nine and a half millennia absorbing the magic in the air and draining Melantha of hers, all without using a drop of what I had. 

If she was petrified like I was, Melantha should be in the same area as when the spell took effect. I needed to find her before she fled and regained her former strength. 

The bond had barely taken effect, and yet a small part of me already felt pained at the idea of having to leave my mate. Unsure of whether I would find him again or survive the battle ahead, I leaned into Caedan and inhaled deeply. He smelled so strongly of bamban smoke I couldn’t detect his natural scent.

Time was slipping away from me, and I couldn’t follow my heart. I had a job to do and it didn’t matter whether or not I wanted to do it. Melantha had to be stopped no matter the cost. I knew I needed to leave the second I woke, but I dragged the moment out as long as I could. 

What did Caedan think of me, the frail warrior clinging to his shirt? Did he think my timidness endearing, or could he see deeper? Where my hands rested on his chest, could he see the red staining my skin? Did he understand my submission was reserved only for him? 

I took a steadying breath and straightened my posture. Gently pushing on Caedan’s chest, I tried to remove myself from his embrace. He let out a low, warning growl from deep in his chest and refused to let go of me.

“What are you doing? I need to go.” I pushed against him again, but it was futile. The years may have fed my soul, but they sapped my body.

“Where could you possibly need to go? You’ve been a statue for so long, you don’t know what year it is,” The mocking undertones in his voice surprised me. He had been nothing but patient and kind until now.

“Don’t you remember? Don’t you know why?” I stopped fighting him in the hope diplomacy would work.

“I know I’m your mate and that makes you my Queen. Unless you plan on rejecting the bond, you’re staying with me.” Caedan tightened his hold on me to the point I could hardly breathe.

“She’s coming . . . need to . . . stop her,” I panted, desperately pushing against him in an attempt to put some distance between us.

“What are you talking about? Have the years as stone addled your brain?” He jibed while partially loosening his hold.

“Melantha . . . is coming.” My voice faltered as I struggled to breathe properly and speak at the same time.

“Melantha?” Caedan began laughing raucously as if what I said was the most ridiculous thing he’d heard. His head tipped back and his chest shook while I watched in stunned indignation. “The dark witch that destroyed Bakiavela in one day? She’s been dead for thousands of years,”

“She never died! She was imprisoned and now that I’m awake, so is she!” I snapped at him. 

“Are you high on guaran leaves?” His pearly white teeth shone in the light as his lips pulled back in a half smile.

“No, I’m not high! Are you fucking crazy? Let me go!” I pounded both fists on his chest to no avail.

“Let you go? You have responsibilities at home, Your Highness.” His nonchalance convinced me nothing I said would matter. People had forgotten and he wouldn’t believe me. Maybe no one would.

Hands fisting in Caedan’s shirt, I raised my leg and slammed my knee into his groin. He let go of me to grab his stomach with a grunt. The moment I was freed, I bolted for the southeast corner of the courtyard while ignoring the shouts of the people I barrelled through. With the rising sun behind me, I darted through two buildings into an alley. I prayed I was going the right direction and hadn’t been followed while weaving through the monuments around me.

What did Caedan mean when he said Melantha destroyed Bakiavela in a day? The spell locked her away the same as me. Were the consequences higher than we thought? Did we sacrifice our home, our people, for the belief we were saving the world? If all of Bakiavela died anyway, were our sacrifices worth it? 

I ran out into the middle of a street only for something large and heavy to plow into my side. My body flew through the air before I fell and my breath was forced from my lungs. Taking in a deep gasp, I gingerly felt my side. Nothing was broken, but a bruise was already forming.

I carefully pushed myself up and looked over at what hit me. It appeared to be an abnormally large, rounded box floating slightly above the ground. Rather than sit and stare at the oddity, I turned to stand only to find myself surrounded by unfamiliar faces. 

They were likely trying to make sure I wasn’t injured, but I couldn’t care less about what they wanted. Taking advantage of the people hiding me, I studied my surroundings. The battlefield had become unrecognizable. If someone asked me which direction my home used to be, I wouldn’t be able to tell them. 

“Goddammit! Where is she?!” The sound of my mate’s voice made Kenna perk up and urge me to search the crowd for him.

Slowly rising to my feet, I calmly made my way through the crowd and away from the voice calling for me. I hid in the swarm of people walking along the street while putting as much distance as I could between my followers and I.

‘Stop worrying about him and help me find the kenge spawn,’ I demanded of my familiar while glancing behind me.

‘Climb one of the buildings,’ Kenna suggested, accompanied by the image of a grunyan climbing the wall to my right. Dragons were supposed to be the most intelligent creatures, and this was the idea she offered. 

‘The walls are too smooth. We’d have to shift.’ Only a dragon could hope to sink their claws into whatever material people used these days. She ruffled her wings and began to unfurl, inching closer to the forefront of my consciousness. Of course she wanted to shift. I did too, but a dragon, in a city, seriously?

‘What have you seen in the sky since I woke up?’ I glanced behind myself again and turned onto another road, keeping the other pedestrians in between myself and the street. The buildings to my right appeared to be stores. Using my hair to hide my face, I walked with the pace of the crowd. 

‘Clouds.’ Abarrane help me. Kenna drove me fucking ballistic sometimes. I swore, she did this shit on purpose. ‘I heard that.’

‘What haven’t you seen?’ I kept my head down and turned onto a side street to lean against a wall while Kenna rambled off a list of animals I would normally see flying overhead several times a day. All of which were nowhere to be found.

I was completely lost in this place with only the sun to guide me. In spite of centuries of training, my legs were aching and lungs burned. Could I really handle this? This was my best chance, and yet I could barely handle walking across flat ground. If—no, when I fight Melantha, will I win?

The plan was for me to find and kill her when the seal broke. Did anyone think about the state of my body after all that time? Someone had to, which meant they expected me to use the magic I collected and it still may not be enough to kill her.

Latent magic in the world feeds life, but using it eats away at us from the inside. I’d always been careful with mine, used it sparingly. If I burned through every bit of the magic I possessed, it would kill me. 

I volunteered for a suicide mission.

 Next Chapter

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© LillianaWayne - all rights reserved. Do not copy, modify, repost, or share on other platforms without my express, written permission.

[venusofvolterra]

I’m not sure if you answer this already, but in your head or in your mind, how does the” mate pull” works? I always see people writing “ as soon as they lock eyes, they knew they were the one that they were there mate “ always made no sense to me to me. You got a build that relationship. I see it as a little crush from both sides, but getting to know each other then falling in love, then boom mates I don’t see it as oh my God he looked at me. He’s my main type of thing it honestly my biggest pet peeve when people write that, because why would I wanna be forced to be someone’s mate because we locked eyes. I read a story on Wattpad of a Alec fanfiction that he became aggressive and wouldn’t let go of YN because they locked eyes and he felt protective over her and that he knew that she was his meat makes no sense to me

So tell me how with the “ mate pull “ work on your eyes 

Okay! Let’s tackle my HCs for how mates work!

In my HC, “bonds” developed out of a psychological need for vampires to have them. Not only do they rarely meet other vampires, it’s even more rare that they’re inclined to get along with other vampires.

However, on some level, vampires do desire community and love. Much like for humans, at its core, this desire is based in survival. That being said, for the reasons previously mentioned, these bonds can be incredibly hard to form on their own. Relationships are hard to build when you’re incredibly isolated and constantly worried about survival. Thus, bonds developed as a way to streamline this process.

In my HC, bonds can form for many different close relationships — namely romantic and familial.

When one encounters a potential bond, they will feel a “pull”. These are incredibly overwhelming when first encountered but require both parties to actually put in some kind of effort to build the relationship. That being said, people with particularly strong bonds may find it exceptionally difficult to stay away from one another even if they both want to.

I also think that bonds can form over time. Even if they hadn’t initially had a bond, if two vampires become incredibly close a bond may start to form between them.

And just a few more small things to know about bonds in my HC:

Evolutionarily, bonds are the basis of what vampires would go on to call “covens”.

Vampires can feel multiple bonds in their life times. These are a mix of familial and romantic bonds.

Vampires who’s place in a coven may be in jeopardy or can otherwise be disadvantaged by potential mates, are less likely to feel new pulls and tend not to feel as inclined to pursue bonds (this is how I justify vampires like Demetri & Felix not yet having mates). This is because bonds are ultimately about survival, they’re less likely to form if they’re a threat to a vampire’s survival.

PS. Yes, I hate weird possessive mate-bond shenanigans. There’s absolutely nothing romantic or attractive about it. I may have been more inclined to it when I was younger but as an adult, I cringe.