Page 24 of When Day Breaks

I finally look up at her, eager to know she doesn't hate me. Something unknown and foreign creeping into my veins.

I open my mouth, prepared to give her the truth though I know it's only half of such. But as her eyes finally reach mine again, I finish what Travois started.

"Lucynda is your sister."

9

catalyst

October 26th

Rivian

It feels good yet different, waking up in the comfort of my own bed. Gathering all the Nocturnes to return home two nights ago—before the ambush of my family drama and the barrage of secrets—was smoother than I thought it was going to be. I didn't know if they would bombard me with questions and concerns or just straight accusations. Though as my secrets tempt to slip free, whether of my own accord or not, I know I might be in for the latter on top of a heaping pile of mistrust and possibly even mutiny.

I turn in my bed, feeling the sun batter against me in relentless waves through my curtains, feeling the silk warm beneath me. The image of Lucynda under me, moaning in pleasure is all that seems to plague my mind in the midst of all the other seemingly cataclysmic dilemmas I know I must face today. Like the fact that my sister stormed off, swearing she doesn't want to see me ever again, after she learned that I've known thatAmyandAmelianaare the same person, and that said person is the mother to both her twin and my wife.

But maybe she's not too mad at me after all, instead only needing a few night's sleep and rest to cool off and focus, knowing that remaining lucid with a clear head will only benefit us going forward.

I hate that I’ve left my wife unattended for the past few days, but I needed her weakened so that she’s easier to level with.

As I sit up to stretch the sleep away, I notice a small plate of oatmeal raisin cookies staged perfectly on my nightstand; a note tied around the wrapped cookies in a bow. I lean over to untie the ribbon and pull the note free.

If she's anything like me, she'll love these. Ameliana's recipe. xo, T.

I don't miss her use of her mother's real name. Maybe she's also angry with her just as she is with me. But not too angry to remain adamant on helping me fight the monster that has taken over my wife—baking these with the herbs that should deflate her curse for a while. And for that, I'm grateful.

Lavender Cyn

I don't know what time it is. I feel like days have passed but I know that's only because delirium has set in, my need for blood is crippling and my whole body aches for it.

After Travois left me, neck broken and masked, I can't be sure how long I was out, but I was able to shimmy out of his mask when I woke by working with the chains and the wall. All I want is to be free from these restraints and to feed on someone.

Why am I even here?

I kick my feet out to stretch them as far as they can go, chains permitting. I tried to stand earlier just to get the kinks out of my back but I was too tired and too weak. They don't tell you what cause and effect starving a vampire will have. But all I know is that I might feel weak physically, but mentally I am raging.

I can't say I was in my right mind when I went on my rampage. It felt nice to have the kind of power I portrayed even if just for a few moments. Staring my husband in his eyes while I watched him realize just how fucked he was for using me. It was liberating. I finally stood up to my abuser.

Maybe my brother's words held some truths about darkness and weaknesses, even if I didn't care to entertain his yapping toomuch. But what help does that give to whatever the hell is going on? And what happens to my mother, my sister, or my marriage in all of this?

"Hello, my sweet sin." The sound of Rivian's voice doesn't cause me to move in excitement or shock. Because I know it can't be real. I'm hallucinating it—my eyes barely able to open and my body feeling numb to the pain I can't even care to let myself feel.

But then I do feel something. A hand caresses my cheek and I lean into it, but only for a second, because the touch of something familiar brings me back to a more comfortable setting. Like being wrapped up in the sheets of Rivian's room and the way he'd hold me in his arms.

So I don't allow myself to daydream too much because I know reminiscing on those thoughts isn’t going to do much to get me out of the position I'm in now.

"Your debilitations…" the voice trails off as I fight to flutter my eyelids open. "You must be very hungry."

I moan, not caring to fully envision tangibility in order to savor the comfort of my delusions. However, when the smell of blood works its way up to my nose, I shift a little, wanting to chase the scent.

"Drink this," the voice tells me, deep and smooth and so warm against my cheek. I blink my eyes open and am yet again met with darkness. But something touches my lips. Warmth invades me. I open my mouth just the slightest and something delicious hits my tongue.

Blood.

I drink it down eagerly, chasing the high being fed to me, not even sure if it's real but it feels real.

Then it stops.

---