“What are you thinking about?” she asks, leaning on the balcony.
“You haven’t told me your name yet.”
“You also haven’t asked.” She smiles and then bites her lower lip. “I should be afraid, but…”
“Why would you be afraid? Of me? You already told me your father is a demon, and I’m certain he will hate me, but then, even if he weren’t a demon, he would hate me and all others who wish to drink in your beauty.”
She rolls her eyes playfully before sighing. “I am Romelia Covenshade.”
Romelia appraises me, clearly waiting to see if I recognize the name.
“You’re worried that I will hold the sins of those before you on your shoulders. I must confess that wounds me.”
“There you go again. Talking as if you belong to another age.”
“Maybe there is another age where we could have met, and it would not be like this.”
“Vampire and werewolves have always been at odds,” she murmurs.
“Not quite.”
“No?”
I nod stiffly. “Isn’t… I think that there’s a werewolf who might, ah, have a vampire ancestor somewhere along the line.”
“Is that why you came?” she asks. “Because of that werewolf?”
“Does the reason why I came matter?”
She scrutinizes my face before shifting her gaze to the moon.
“I might have wanted to see her, yes. My friends came up with the idea of coming here. They… I didn’t see her here.”
“Her name?”
“Bellanore Shade.”
Romelia nods. “I know of her.”
“I… You want the truth? I have nothing to hide. Bermon and Mercy, they think that I was in love with the idea of being in love, that I didn’t really love Bellanore, and honestly, I don’t think I’ve known love.”
“You don’t know love? That’s terrible,” she murmurs.
“Well, my parents love me. I love them, and I love my friends.”
“Ah, romantic love.”
My heart thunders. "I… I don't know what it is, but… I feel drawn to you. I am the tide, and you're my moon, and I couldn't leave. The potion wore off, and it's not safe for you or for me, but I'm selfish, and I just had to see you again. Even…"
“If you are selfish, then so am I,” she murmurs.
She stares at the moon, and I stare at her, drinking in her sight. She’s lovely to behold, yes, but I am trying to see through her, to her soul.
“Even?” she asks, looking at me once more.
“I’m sorry?”
“You said you just had to see me again even…”
“Even though one of my friends told me about who you are.”
“You knew my name.”
“Yes, but I wanted to hear it from your lips.”
She shakes her head, her long, dark hair falling forward. I’m too far down on the vine to be able to reach up to brush it back, so I climb up more, to be even with the railing, but she’s already flicked the strands back.
“You are a very smooth talker,” she informs me.
“I am not playing a game, if that’s what you’re thinking,” I say hotly. “You have to believe me.”
“Oh, I do, but that doesn’t change the fact that you are one smooth talker.”
“I feel as if I am fumbling for words. You disarm me.”
“I… You meant what you said about the uneasiness in your chest, didn’t you?”
“I did. When I think about leaving you, it returns, but when we’re talking, dancing, laughing… it’s gone.”
“I knew you were a werewolf,” she murmurs, almost mouthing what I am instead of saying it aloud, “before you came.”
“You did? Did the potion—”
“No. One of my friends recognized you.”
“Tyra?”
Her eyebrows lift. “You know her?”
“She interrupted us.”
"Yes, yes, she did." Romelia shakes her head.
“I assume she is not a fan.”
“Not at all. My cousin can be rather… I don’t know how to phrase it.”
“My cousin is a peacemaker kind, but even he… I don’t know what he’ll think of this, and I don’t care.”
“This,” she murmurs. “What is this?”
“Do we have to name it?” I ask. “Maybe it defies explanation. Sometimes, two people can just be meant for one another.”
“Soul mates,” she murmurs, and her cheeks pinken again. “Not because of love. Because of touching and affecting each other’s lives.”
“Touching and affecting each other’s lives, yes, already you have. I have. But maybe one day, the love will come too.” I hesitate. “Does that frighten you?”
“Yes,” she whispers.
I swallow hard.
“But not for the reason you fear,” she continues in that same soft, hushed tone.
"Then, why?"
“Because that one day might be here already.”
Chapter 9
Romelia
I can hardly believe what I’m saying. My heart is thundering in my chest as it never has before, and it’s because of him.
The werewolf I’ve told some of my darkest secrets.
The werewolf who has shared secrets of his own.
The werewolf I have kissed twice and want to kiss again.
It’s a dangerous game we’re playing, a very dangerous game, only it’s not a game. This is real.
Isn’t it?
“How is this possible?” I murmur. “This can’t be real.”
“Why not?” he challenges. “Because we’re young? Is that why? What about your mother and father? How long did they know each other before they married?”
“Not long,” I murmur.
“And demons, do they often bother to get married?”
“I… I don’t know,” I say honestly. “I don’t pry my father with questions.”
“I can understand that. It can’t be easy for you, to feel so trapped by your own family. They want what they think is best for you, don’t they? At least I hope they do.”
“They do, but what they think is best for me, and what I want… they aren’t always the same thing. Most of the time, they are even at odds.”
He lowers his head and then shifts his grip slightly.
I eye him. “Are you sure you don’t want to come into my room?”
“And risk your honor? Never.”
“Should I call you Good Knight then?”
“So long as you don’t say goodnight,” he murmurs.
My heart starts to flutter. “You are playing me.”
“I am not,” he says almost harshly, but I know it’s because he’s hurt that I would even say such a thing. “Don’t be afraid.”
“But this… It’s too much.”
“If we’re meant to be together, we will find a way.”
“That way won’t be easy,” I warn him unnecessarily. We both know this to be true.
“If nature intends for us to be together, it will happen. Fighting it would be useless.”
“Yes, but we might be in for a fight,” I murmur.
“Don’t they say that you should always fight for what you want?”
“Anything worth having is worth fighting for.”
“Ah, yes. You disagree?”
“No, but it’s not so much us I’m worried about.”
He blows out a breath. “Everyone else.” Julian eyes me with those mesmerizing eyes of his. They glow in the night. The red of the moon doesn’t touch his face at all as he stares at me, and he looks so utterly perfect.
I glance away, gripping the railing so tightly that my fingers whiten, a considerable feat considering how porcelain my skin is normally. When I first drink blood, I look more human or, rather, more demonic, I suppose, since I am not human at all.
“You don’t think there’s any way for vampires and werewolves to accept us,” he says, “but what about Bellanore?”
I flinch.
"I won't say her name again," he promises.
"No, no. You misunderstand. I don't know the circumstances of Bellanore's birth. I'm not sure why she would have been at the party if she was. Maybe… Maybe we're afraid for no reason."
“Or we’re using fear as an excuse,” he says softly, climbing a little higher.
I can’t help reaching over and brushing his soft hair back from his forehead. As much as I desperately wish to believe that our fears are for naught, they aren’t. My cousin alone is testimony to that.
“Tyra just had an altercation with a werewolf,” I murmur.
“Was she hurt?”
“No. Did you hear about it? It happened near your academy. At least, I assume you attend Moonstone Academy.”
"You know I go there. Didn't you say that Tyra saw me there? Why does she hang around werewolves so often if she hates us so much?"
“The hate might be the reason. She has a bit of a temper. Her father is like mine, and our mothers are sisters. Err, her father was like mine. Ever since her father was killed…”
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“Are you?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“He was a demon,” I remind him.
“He was her father,” he says simply.
"He had been killed by a paranormal executioner. Her father, they say, was contemplating killing the president of the United States. Contemplating it. No concrete plans but that didn't stop them. They didn't even lock him up in Magical Prison to prevent him from killing. No." I sigh. "The way of the world…"
“It’s troubling,” he agrees, voicing my unspoken thought aloud.
“Yes,” I murmur.
We're already finishing each other's sentences. It should alarm me, but it doesn't. Talking to Julian is as natural as breathing, and his lack of red eyes doesn't bother me as it should. For many vampires, we stick to our own kind aside from when we need to acquire blood, of course.
Especially here, at Blood Haven. Everyone has the same red eyes. The students, the professors… Everyone. Even my demon father has red eyes too.
But his are green, the color of life, and he’s brimming with life. How can I care for his life so much that I almost want to cut him out of my life so that I don’t have to fear that he will soon draw his last breath? But to cut him out of my life almost feels like I would have to cut out my heart.
“We can’t do this,” I murmur.
“Don’t be afraid.”
“I don’t want to, but I am.”
"Giving in to fear and reacting is no way to live a life. You want to choose your path. You don't want to blindly do as your parents say. Why stop now? Why give in to fear?"
“Bellanore aside, vampires and werewolves… We’re oil and water.”
“Or maybe not.”
I tilt my head to the side and just stare at him. His honesty is refreshing, but his belief that everything will work out is naïve.
“At least not you and me,” he amends.
My walls are crumbling. One look, one smile, one phrase… That's all it takes for me to want to not only invite Julian into my room but into my life and maybe my heart as well.
“We can talk all night if you want,” he says. “I will cling to this vine, and I—”
“Be utterly ridiculous,” I say with a giggle. “Come in.”
“No.”
“Why? Why won’t you? Is it because of your scent? I can use some flowers to mask—”
“If I come into your room, I’m afraid I will never leave.”
I grin. “When I get tired of you, I’ll just invite you to the balcony and shove you off. How does that sound?” My grin broadens, and I giggle. “Do dogs land on their feet or only cats? What of werewolves?”
“Are you honestly going to test to find out?”
My hand touches the vine he’s clinging to. “I would just have to snap this to find out.”
“You wouldn’t.”
"Of course not." I touch my hair that has once again fallen forward. Then my hand falls to the necklace, and I close my eyes briefly.
“You look like you’re hurting,” he remarks.
“Mother gave me this, the gown, the necklace, the rings, all of it.”
“For the ball?” he supposes.
“For the ball, yes, and for a Constantine.”
“Who is that?”
“A vampire. I don’t know much about him, but Mother…”
“She wishes you to be with him. Why else have you dressed in that lovely gown? You are far more beautiful than the dress, though.”
“I don’t know anything about Constantine. Mother says he’s rich, but what do I care for riches? I will live for years and years, centuries, longer, so long as I’m careful and am not killed. Wealth can be amassed without even trying for vampires. That’s not what I’m after.”
“What is it you want?” he asks.
I say nothing. I’ve already said far more than I should’ve. It’s not that I don’t want to share, and in time, I suspect I’ll tell him. I’ve already hinted at what I want, only it’s not a what but a who.
“You know about my family,” I say. “Tell me about yours.”
Julian grins. “The pack isn’t quite as large as it used to be.” He looks away but not before I see a flash of pain in his eyes.
A pang settles in my chest. “My mother?”
He sharply nods, but when he meets my gaze, I see no resentment there, no blame. Julian knows I had no part in the massacre. How could I? It happened long ago, before either of us were born, but most werewolves would have no qualm blaming me just by the nature of my blood.
“My mom is one of the kindest, most doting mothers in the world. She’s a little overbearing at times, always trying to get me to eat more, to hunt more, to do this or that. I’m the oldest.”
“Of how many?”
“Five.”
“You have four siblings?”
“Yes. With two more on the way.”
“Oh my. Wow,” I murmur. “Such a large family.”
"Werewolves don't tend to only have one child, and we're still trying to recoup our numbers."
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” He blinks a few times, smiling ruefully as he adds, “I’m the one who is sorry. You don’t have any siblings, do you?”
“No. A bit strange if you ask me considering the kind of demon Father is, but… Maybe vampires can only have one child. I don’t know.”
“If you were to…”
I inhale sharply, my heartbeat racing once more. “If I were to… have relations with anyone but a vampire, could I have a child? Children? I think so. I mean, I’m one of the living vampires. I’m half-demon, and demons can produce progeny. Clearly.”
“Have you thought about it?”
“Having a family? No, I haven’t.”
“Why not?” he asks softly.
“I don’t know. I don’t… I don’t want to become like my mother. What if, over the centuries, I change? Become harder? Stronger but also ruthless? I don’t know if Mother has always been like this or if something happened to cause her to be so… so… Oh, I don’t know.”
“You could try talking to her,” he says.
“About you?”
“About her. About you. About how you want your relationship to be.”
Neither of us says anything for a long moment, but the silence isn't awkward. It's as reflective as the face of the red moon. Any tension inside my body at the mention of my mother ebbs away, and I brush his hair back again. I'm merely looking for an excuse to touch him.
“You didn’t talk about your father any,” I murmur.
“He’s a strong man, capable, proud. He loves his family and will do anything for us. Dad loves the pups so much, and he is asking Mom daily if they’re kicking yet.”
“Pups?” I’m delighted to hear that they call the babies that. It’s so ridiculously adorable.
He shrugs. “My
siblings are a lot younger than I am. Felix and Lily are five. Kraig and Ophelia are three. I know. A big age gap and there’s a reason for it. Deidre and Isaac, they snuck away from the pack one night when we were all in our wolves by the mountainside. None of us actually climbed the mountain, just stayed in the shadow of it, but they ran up it, and there was a rockslide. By the time we found them, it was too late. Even with advanced healing properties, even with asking witches to help… it was too late.”
“Oh, Julian.” My hand falls to cover his on the vine.
“Mom and Dad waited a bit to have more. It was too painful for Mom, I think, but now that she’s started to have more, it seems like she can’t stop. I’m the only one that doesn’t have a twin.” He stares deeply into my eyes. “For the longest time, I felt cheated, as if I should’ve had a twin too, but I think I know why.”
“Why didn’t you have a twin?”
"Because my soul had been split into two," he murmurs. "I think we share a soul, Romelia, and nothing you can say will make me think otherwise."
Chapter 10
Julian
It’s the truth, every word of it. I think we house the same soul, and that’s why we instantly connected. That’s why I have so many strong feelings toward her. Our ages don’t matter. Who says you have to reach a certain age to know and understand love? Poets and dreamers have been trying to express what love is in words for centuries, and they fail each time.
Romelia touches my face and leans down. We’re just about to kiss when she jerks back.
“Tyra’s here,” she murmurs. “You should go.”
I nod.
She plays with something gold in her hand before placing her fingers to her lips and blowing me a kiss. My heart swells as I pretend to catch it and place it against my heart. With a wink, I slide down the vines, and I quickly disappear into the shadows. Once I'm a good distance away, I turn back and stare up at her balcony. Romelia stands there still, looking out. Another stands beside her, but I only see her.
My heart feels as if it may burst, and my wolf dances inside me, eager to be free. I almost do unleash him so he can carry me back to Moonstone Academy faster, but I don't. I linger another moment before walking all the way to my academy and to my room.
Blood Haven: Year One: A Mayhem of Magic World Story Page 6
