Page 75 of Dark Souls

Heathen is clearly far more manipulative than I give him credit for. He must have found a way out of The Devil’s control to see her in person and heard all about what an asshole I’d been to her because the demon had made it pretty fucking clear how pissed he was at me.

As I stepped back from the bathroom mirror, the sheet slipped, falling into the sink and those pink eyes that had my soul in a bind pleaded with me. Unblinking, lacking in their normal vibrancy, they were dulled by sadness. By crippling pain. Turning my face away, I hissed through my fangs and smashed my fist down on the china sink, tearing it from its fixing on the wall. I closed my eyes, heaving through the turmoil that I was being forced to face and rummaged blindly for the old, stained dust sheet.I was a coward.That look in her eyes. That haunting expression on her beautiful face. That was my doing. And I couldn’t fucking take it.

Once the sheet was in place, I turned abruptly, stalking out the door and into the tired, neglected bedroom. A room that I never slept in, despite the inviting super king bed in the centre. This wasn’t my home. And I refused to treat it as such. The once majestic, English manor perched precariously on top of a hazardous clifftop and was gradually surrendering to the ravages of time, the elements and my disregard for its beauty.

The stone walls were slowly crumbling, the wooden floorboards warping and groaning with every gust of wind that rattled through the shattered windows and the gaping hole in the right wing’s roof. Dust and cobwebs created a blanket of white over every surface and the air was thick with the scent of damp and decay. No one in their right mind would choose to live here like this. But I couldn’t leave.

This place tortured my soul to the point that it consumed my whole existence. I had promised myself and the family that had owned it all those years ago that I would haunt this place until my dying breath. This place had once been their sanctuary. Their trophy. A display of wealth and greed that came from destroying other people’s lives. So I would happily sit back and relish watching the Knowlton family’s pride and joy rot and fester, just like my soul. I hoped their damned souls were trapped here too, in their own version of hell, so they could witness my presence as the sole ghost haunting their home.

Pulling out the worn leather desk chair, I sat down, rubbing my jaw with my hand as I stared at the phone, silver dagger and black choker necklace on the table. Her belongings. The phone was dead. I contemplated throwing it out the window and into the raging sea below in case it was traceable but something stopped me.Because I wanted her to come for it. To find me.I pushed the dangerous thought to the back of my mind. I didn’t own a phone myself. Can’t say I ever had the need with no one to contact. The Devil sought me out. It was never the other way around.

I picked up the necklace. Running my fingers along the soft velvet material, I imagined it around her neck. I was starting to notice from the night we had spent together and her dress sense that she enjoyed wearing things around her neck. Chokers, feather boas, my hand. My dick jolted in my jeans as perverse images of other ways I could give her a necklace came to mind. I groaned, lifting the choker to my nose, hoping some of her scent would linger. It was too faint to give me any satisfaction. I hissed, slamming the jewellery down, causing the dangling diamond stone in the centre to clatter against the desk as I berated myself.

My gaze shifted to the embroidered dagger. Lifting it, I studied it when the silver caught the faint light filtering through the broken window. The leather handle shifted slightly, and I pulled it back, revealing a sharp wooden spike like a stake hidden beneath it. Silver to harm wolves, wood to harm vampires. Clever. It was delicate yet lethal. Just like her. I traced my finger over her initials imprinted on the leather handle.

I.R.B.

Impulsivity and the need to feel her close, as close as I would physically allow, had me spinning the wooden spike on myself. I didn’t even flinch as I sliced at the skin of my chest, engraving her initials above my blackened heart. Blood seeped out of the cuts and I cleaned the wounds, wanting to see how it looked.Like it belonged.Anger manifested itself as I watched the shallow cuts heal themselves, closing over and ridding me of her. I repeated the process again and again, each time cutting deeper, willing the letters to scar my skin like she had scarred my soul. There was enough of a faint scar appearing that I relaxed back and threw the dagger back down on the table.

I needed to sort my fucking head out. How was I supposed to carry on knowing that the woman I so desperately craved, so desperately needed, hated me? She thought I didn’t want her. That I used her and discarded her like she wasn’t enough when the opposite was true. I felt like I was slowly dying when I wasn’t breathing the air she did. But she could never know that because being with me was suicide. Giving into the bond that was destined for us would be signing her own death certificate. She was only a young vampire, just turned twenty-one. She had a whole life ahead of her. Even if it was without me, she’d at least be alive.

A hoarse, croaking sound from the window had my red eyes flicker up to meet the onyx beads of the raven who visited every so often. I couldn’t be certain that it was always the same bird, but I liked to imagine it was. The only friend I had in this hellhole. I slouched back in the chair, remaining quiet and still as we sized each other as we always did. Day and night, the curious creatures circled the manor before disappearing down the cliff edges. I had never been a naturist and knew fuck all about animals but I’d made sure I researched them as soon as I was able. I found ravens were my favourite animals. They were extremely intelligent and beautifully haunting to look at, but people often misunderstood them. They also mated for life. Myths and folklore cast them as evil. As the spawns of Satan. We had a lot in common. In a way, the raven seemed to be my spirit animal.

After the first few times a raven had visited me, many years ago when I was held captive in the cellar by the Knowltons, it had sat with me in the dark, night after night. Its intense gaze, purple and blue-hued feathers and deep cawing sound became a comfort when I had nothing else. We’d grown accustomed to each other over the years and gained each other’s trust. I scoffed, realising that I trusted this bird more than I trusted people.

I held its gaze as it cocked its large head to the side, putting me on trial before it hopped forward through the splintered windowsill.

“I met my mate, Raven,” I spoke in a low, calm tone that often allowed him to come closer without fear. The loneliness would have eaten me alive if I hadn’t started confiding in this bird. It opened its curved black bill and let out a piercing ‘arr’ in answer. I smirked, shaking my head. “It is not as easy as that. You know me, bird. I’m not free. I’m not whole. I’m broken. I have nothing to offer her.”

The bird hopped forward onto the edge of the desk, beating its wedge-shaped tail against the oak. I peered into its endless black eyes.

“Have you met your mate yet, Raven?” It tilted its head. “No. Because if you had, you wouldn’t be here with me, right?”

I moved carefully, opening the drawer of the desk where I kept a small offering of dried meat and placed it on the table before sitting back. I watched as the raven jumped towards it and started pecking at the food.

“Tell me what to do. I want her. But wanting her will destroy her.” The bird continued pecking at the food. Useless. I moaned in frustration as I lifted my hands above my head and stared up at the ceiling. “I can’t let her get close to me. Everyone who has ever loved me has suffered. But I need to be near her. How? How do I do that without ruining her life?”

A scraping noise across the desk caused me to lower my head just in time to see the damn pest dragging the diamond choker in its beak and flapping its wings. I darted forward to grab the jewellery, but the bird had already taken flight, heading out of the window. I stood behind the broken, grimy glass, hissing between my fangs as I watched the raven soar gracefully through the sky, stretching its wingspan and disappearing down the cliff edge, taunting me with its freedom.

When my eyes lifted and caught sight of my reflection in the glass, I stilled, heart pounding. Because in place of my reflection, it was hers. Fair skin, white hair, full lips and those damning eyes. I inhaled sharply, allowing the pain in my chest to intensify when I refused to look away. She was mine. And despite everything, I needed to see her.

Allowing that impulsive trait in me to take control, I grabbed a black hoodie and headed to the weathered front door that was hanging off its hinges. The door was never locked, never even fully closed, because the manor’s sombre appearance was enough to warn people away. And there wasn’t a single soul for miles, anyway. No one would dare to come in here except The Devil and Heathen.

I felt the electrifying magical barrier that the stupid bitch of The Devil’s mate had cast upon the threshold before I even reached the door. Clicking my neck to the right, I placed my hands on the unsteady door frame and set my determined gaze across the rolling green hills in the distance. I waited. Waited for hours until the sun set and the spell broke. It was just another way for them to show their control over me. To restrict my freedom to leave the manor during the hours, the sun rose in the sky. The witch thought it was a clever trick, as so many myths thought vampires could never set foot in the sun. They only needed me at night to run the events. The rest of the time, they kept me prisoner in my own form of hell.

The moment the last rays disappeared beyond the horizon, I zoomed out of the door and used my full speed to travel towards London. A route that would take a human travelling by car at least three hours, but with my supernatural speed, I’d run there in an hour. Heading for the rural outskirts of London, I stopped by a well-known vampire bar, asking for directions to the Romano clan town.

It wasn’t long before I arrived at the edge of a built-up village in the middle of a forest. I’d been here once before, centuries ago, though it had changed since then. The houses were all modern, clean and tidy. The streets were pristine, without a hint of litter or unkempt lawns. Everything screamed wealth and privilege. I lifted my hood over my head as I walked through the streets, noticing how it wasn’t just vampires living here, but werewolves, too. I suppose with Arius Romano finding his soulmate in a she-wolf; it wasn’t surprising.

Apart from a few curious and uneasy glances, most people seemed preoccupied with their own business to mind mine. Everyone here was supernatural. Part of a community. Accepted for who they were and thriving. I wondered what that must feel like. To be part of a clan. To have the protection of the last name, Romano. To belong to something bigger than just your kin. My family had never had that. It had only ever been us. Until it was just me.

The houses grew bigger and grander the closer I came to the large stone wall and iron gates that surrounded the Romano castle at the heart of the village. I noticed it wasn’t just civilians here but soldiers. Many vampires wore all black, with what looked like combat armour over their chests to protect them from being staked. They patrolled the wall in pairs, talking and looking far too relaxed, which meant that danger didn’t make it past those walls very often. That was good. That meant she was safe here. I glanced up at the foreboding castle, my eyes falling on the tallest tower, which I felt drawn to. I didn’t know if she was in there. For all I knew, she wasn’t even in this country. And even if she was, there was no chance of me getting through those gates unless I wanted to meet the full force of the Romano clan, which was out of the question.

I don’t know how long I had been standing there, staring up at that attic, but I must have been in a complete trance because I didn’t even hear the car approaching at my side, until the window at the back of the car rolled down.

“Can I help you?” A female voice snapped me back to the present as I turned to the side to peer down at the woman with grey eyes and blonde hair. Hair almost as blonde as Ilaria’s. Her eyes narrowed as she took in my face, her expression changing from apprehension to shock.

“No,” I muttered quickly and turned my back on the car, striding in the opposite direction of the castle and into the forest. I heard the car door open and slam shut behind me. Shit.

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