Romelia squeezes my hand. “I just wish they could have been together.”
“She and Ambrogio did live together for years.”
“Yes, but they weren’t able to… They weren’t man and wife.”
“No. They weren’t.” My heart picks up speed. We’ve been dancing around the idea of husband and wife all night long. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask her.
But how many days have we spent in each other’s presence physically? Yes, we’ve been texting for months daily. She’s the first person I talk to in the morning, the last one I talk to at night. In my heart, I know I love her, and I know she loves me, but I can’t even bring myself to say those three words out loud because I know that if I say them to her, they will form a promise, a pact. They will tether my entire life to her, and as much as I want that, I also worry and fear that such a tether will sever the thread that links me to my family.
“Your pack,” Romelia murmurs.
I blink and then laugh slightly. She somehow always seems to follow my thoughts.
“Can demons read minds?” I ask.
“I don’t know. Maybe. Father… He wants to teach me some of his magic, but I don’t want to learn, and he’s been busy doing whatever it is that he does. So far, I’ve gotten away with avoiding that side of me as much as possible. Why do you ask?”
“You mentioned my pack.”
“And you were thinking about them.”
“I was,” I say simply.
“They won’t accept me.”
“They would if they would get to know you.”
“They won’t bother to.” She sighs deeply. “And considering who my mother is…”
“Her sins—”
“I know. You believe that what she does shouldn’t reflect on me, but we both know that it does. People can’t turn a blind eye to what she did. It’s a wonder that no one rose up to challenge her.”
“If they planned on it, it would’ve already happened.”
"I agree. Her marrying a demon affords her even more protection, but that means the werewolves' resentment and hatred are just growing. They're ready to attack her if they're given a reason to."
“They won’t hurt you to get to her,” I promise, bringing our hands up so I can kiss her knuckles.
“I don’t need a hero,” she murmurs.
“What do you need.”
“Just you.”
But she sounds so very sad that I turn on my side so I can see her face. She wipes her face, and I grab her hand to see a reddish teardrop staining her fingers.
“Why are you crying?” I whisper, my heart aching that she’s in pain.
“You’re all I need, but you need your pack.”
Ah, that’s why she mentioned my pack earlier.
“What happens if…” She turns her head away.
I cup her face and ease her to look at me once more. Romelia blinks a few times before staring up at me through wet lashes.
“What happens if a werewolf leaves his pack?” I ask.
She nods and bites her lower lip.
I dip down to kiss her forehead. "Every male wolf leaves his pack when he marries to form a new pack with his mate. Their children are the new lifeline of that pack."
“How can packs grow to be any significant size?” she asks, her brow furrowing with confusion.
"Packs can merge together for protection, and yes, that's usually done between packs with shared blood. Some packs are small, but my pack—"
“Moonblaze,” she supplies.
I grin. “Yes, Moonblaze. It’s one of the largest packs in the state.”
“Your pack means everything to you, and that’s how it should be. Wolves aren’t meant to be solitary.”
I kiss her forehead. “I’ll never be alone so long as I have you. Don’t doubt it, Romelia. You mean as much to me as any wolf in my pack. You mean more.”
Romelia wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me down for a kiss that not only touches my soul but also claims it as hers, now and forevermore.
Chapter 20
Julian
Eventually, the moon dips in the horizon, making way for the sun to rise, and as much as I hate our time together ending, I know the parting will not last forever.
“You’re going to be late for your morning class,” Romelia says as she fiddles with my hair.
“You are too, and you aren’t dressed for classes yet.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I can return to campus and change and be sitting at my desk before the professor arrives. I just need three blinks of an eye.” She winks.
“One blink’s already gone,” I tease.
“Silly boy. Can spare more than those three.” She lifts onto her toes and kisses me.
“Do you need more blood?”
She hesitates. “I don’t want to take more.”
“I am offering. You aren’t taking if I’m offering.”
“I have to take. I can’t borrow blood. It’s not as if I can return it to you.” Her fingers fiddle with my sleeve, her fingers brushing against my returned cufflink.
“You can kiss me in exchange for the blood. An even trade, don’t you think?”
“You can’t survive on kisses,” she protests.
“That is debatable.”
My lips press against hers gently, and she returns my kiss with all the passion vampires are known for. I’m breathless when we pull apart, and her eyes seem to glitter, although their red hue is a bit pale.
“You do need more blood.”
She nods. “I do,” she admits.
I allow her to drink, and then she peppers me with kisses near the wounds and then on my lips and even my neck, something I thought she might wish to avoid, but she’s in complete control.
“I hate to part,” she murmurs.
“It is sweet sorrow, yes, but it’s not forever.”
“When can I see you again?” she asks desperately.
I share her desperation, but I’m cautious. One of us has to be.
“I don’t know if we can risk this every night,” I grumble, “as much as I wish we could.”
“Why can’t the world be a better place? A more accepting place?” she wishes.
“Even the humans have issues with hatred,” I remind her.
“We aren’t any better than they are.”
“No, but we can try to raise our children to be better.” I gape at her as I realize what I just said. “The next generation. The previous generations, they’re set in their ways, and nothing and no one will ever change their minds, but the next generations, if we all work together, maybe then there will be hope for the future.”
I’m rambling, trying to drown out the words that I said, but all I can hear echoing in my mind in the beat of my rapidly pounding heart is our children, our children, our children.
Romelia kisses me on the nose. “The next generation is one that we can hope will be better than our parents’, better than our own, but if the others in our generation don’t change their minds, their children won’t be any different than they are, and nothing will change. One family, one pack… it’s not enough.”
"It will be. We are enough," I say firmly, squeezing Romelia's hands in mine.
She squeezes back and gives me a kiss that ends far too quickly, and then, she's gone.
I stand there for a long moment, feeling the gentle breeze that's died down from the faintly stronger gust when she left my side. As much as I hate that she's returned to her academy, I know it's for the best.
As for me, I need to do the same.
My body trembles, and I allow my wolf to come free. I guide him back to campus, running as swiftly as he wishes. For the most part, the areas surrounding the campuses are mostly fields that the humans do not approach. After all, neither the werewolves nor the vampires want the humans to stumble onto our location.
I have to go all the way around Blood Haven Academy to reach Moonstone Academy, and I enter one of the castles that serves as an office to make use
of the facilities. As I wash my hands, I catch sight of my wrist. The wounds from the bites have healed already, and I feel as if I can do anything at all, so long as I have Romelia’s blessing. It’s so strange to think there had been a time when she hadn’t been a part of my life, but she is now and will be until I die so long as I have my way.
By the time I arrive at my first class, I'm already late. The professor wrinkles his nose at me in disgust, but I just claim my seat next to Bermon.
Almost immediately, my phone buzzes. I discreetly remove it from my pants, but it’s not a text from Romelia. It’s from Bermon.
Who has already texted me no less than sixteen times earlier today.
What’s so important? I text him.
I didn’t know what happened to you.
Don’t tell me you stayed up all night waiting for me to come home.
Bermon doesn’t text back.
I glance over to see his scowl.
You look a bit tired, I text him, and a pang of guilt washes over me. I didn’t mean to make you worried.
It’s all right. You look like you couldn’t be happier. You had a good time then?
An amazing time.
Why don’t you tell me about her?
I blink and glance over again. He’s staring at his phone, waiting for me to respond.
Come on. She’s a part of your life, and I’m your best friend. Don’t you think I should know about her?
I hesitate, not certain where to start.
I don’t need to know what she looks like. Somehow, the text relays the dry tone he sometimes uses. I know she’s beautiful. She’s one of them.
She’s so much more. She’s amazing and kind. She’s funny, and her giggle is so sweet. But she’s not… I hesitate and then delete the but she’s not part and hit send.
Bermon reads but doesn’t respond. He wants more.
We can talk about everything. She knows me better than I know myself. From the start, we finished each other sentences. I feel a connection with her that I have never felt before with anyone.
I wait for him to text me back.
Do you love her?
I just grin.
When class is over, Bermon lingers. We’re the last two to leave the classroom.
“You know this isn’t going to end well, don’t you?” he asks.
“Who knows? Stranger things have happened.”
“Like what?” he challenges.
I hesitate and then shrug. “I’m sure an angel and a demon have gotten together before.”
“And probably almost caused Hell on Earth.”
“Maybe, but if an angel and a demon can do it—”
"Hypothetically," he stresses.
“Do you want me to see if I can learn about a couple like that?” I ask, reaching for my phone.
"We have a class to get to."
“I know, but…” I start to search on my phone when I bump into someone.
It takes me a moment to realize I collided into Bellanore.
“I’m sorry,” I say.
She looks up at me. Her green eyes glow, and she brushes back her black hair. A few strands here and there are white.
“It’s all right, Julian. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” She tilts her head to the side. “Are you all right?”
“Are you…” I shake my head.
She lifts her eyebrows. “Am I what?”
“Related to…” I wave my hand that has my phone in it and almost throw it at her. I am not myself right now. “Never mind.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? If you have a question for me, you can ask.”
I just shake my head again and duck around her, mumbling another apology.
Bermon chuckles once we’re out of sight. “It’s a good thing you don’t want to be with her anymore because you were nothing more than a bumbling idiot back there. I take it you are much smoother with… her?”
“Romelia,” I murmur. “And yes, I think I’m smoother with her, but that’s because I’m so comfortable with her.”
“You wanted to know if Bellanore is related to who? To Romelia?”
I nod.
“So she does have vampire blood in her?”
“Or maybe demonic.”
“Oh. Oh! Wow. I hadn’t thought about that. Did she even go to that party then, I wonder?” Bermon asks.
“I don’t know, and it doesn’t really matter. Romelia is the one I want.”
Bermon stops walking. I don’t realize for a moment and then have to turn around and backtrack.
“What is it?” I ask.
“You felt strongly for Bellanore,” he says slowly.
“No. I only thought I did. You were right. I didn’t love her. I don’t even know her. That just now? That’s the most I’ve ever talked to her. It had been a crush, an infatuation. That’s it.”
“But how do you know it’s real with Romelia?” he asks softly.
“Trust me. When love finds you, you’ll know. It’s not something you can miss. It’s powerful, and it’ll change your life.”
“Change it for the better or for the worse?” he mumbles.
I laugh and drape an arm across his shoulders. “You’re worrying too much.”
“For good reason,” he protests.
“Worrying will only give you wrinkles,” I tease.
“I’m not worried about my good looks,” he grumbles.
“Fine. You be worried. I’ll be happy. How does that sound?”
“Happy? Or delusional?”
“You can be worried for me. I understand, but here’s the thing. Romelia and I… What we have is real and true and amazing. I want you to experience that too. One day, I hope you’ll understand, and then, I’m going to expect an apology.”
Bermon shrugs. “I’m not worried about finding a girl just yet. My classes are all I’m focusing on right now.”
“If only that were the case.”
We both laugh at that.
“Seriously, though,” I say as we start to head toward our next class. “Why are you worried about having high marks here? It’s not as if we must attend here in order to become alpha or for a job or anything like that. It’s just to learn to master control of our magic and our wolves.”
“I know that, but it can help us to become betas, and it strengthens our powers.”
“Do you wish you went to Magical Hunters Academy?” I ask him.
“No. I don’t want to be a paranormal hunter or slayer or executioner.”
“What do you want to be? Besides my conscience, that is.”
I hoped my joke would make him smile, but Bermon frowns. “All I want is peace.”
“Then you should be pushing me toward her, not away. How can there be peace if we’re kept segregated? That’s only going to fuel more hostility, more aggression, and more hatred?”
“You have to be careful.”
"So you keep telling me. Only a few select people know about us. No one will run to the vampires to tell them about me, and no one will tell the other werewolves about her. There's nothing to worry about."
Bermon just shakes his head. He’s unconvinced, but we’ve reached our second class, and when we sit down, I remove my phone to see a text from Romelia. After I send her a reply, I look up to see Mercy watching me. She has a smile on her face that gives me pause. Mercy hasn’t been happy for some time, maybe even since the Red Moon Ball. I hate that she isn’t happy for me. Bermon isn’t either. They’re my two closest friends, but they don’t know what’s best for me. I do, and what’s best for me is Romelia.
Chapter 21
Romelia
Leaving Julian is hard, but I’ve also never been happier. He’s the source of my joy, and I manage to slip past a guard the same way I had before.
Quickly, I dash to my room, change, and make it to class. I’m not precisely on time. The professor for Conversion is already in the classroom, but he hasn’t started to teach yet, so I don’t consider myself late.
The ot
her students are all talking loudly, one on top of the other, which makes it hard to follow any one particular thread.
Eventually, the professor claps his hands together. “Can someone tell me what all of the fuss is about?” he demands.
“Professor Trevor,” Josephine calls out, “the statue at the center of campus.”
“What about it?” Professor Trevor grumbles.
"It's been beheaded," Dirk calls out.
“Beheaded?” Professor Trevor shakes his head. “That’s quite impossible. It’s solid steel. No one would—”
“Can we go see then?” Josephine asks sweetly. “I’m sure my father would love to hear that a professor here at the academy is calling his students liars.”
“I am not,” he sputters.
"Or delusional. One or the other," Josephine says, and the other classmates all nod.
Josephine is just like Tyra and me. Her father is also a demon.
Professor Trevor mutters something under his breath, but there’s not much he can do. Some of the students are leaving to check and returning, while others are leaving and don’t bother to come back.
I don't want to go and see, but Tyra yanks on my arm. Before I can even open my mouth, she's pulling me along at vampiric speed, and when I stop moving my feet a second later, we've arrived.
What once had been a statue of a vampire, head back, fangs on full display, a moon above his head almost to serve as a halo, a victim slumped at his feet is now a headless vampire. The fangs have been removed. One is by the severed head, but the other is missing.
Along the vampire’s body, his chest and neck especially, are claw marks.
“Werewolves,” Tyra says bitterly.
The other vampires agree, hurling insults and threats toward the werewolves even though none are around to hear them. At least, I hope none of the werewolves are near here because these vampires look like they’re out for blood. How did this happen? How could one werewolf or potentially more than one make it onto campus to do this? The guards are—
The guards. I’ve sneaked out. What’s to stop someone from being able to sneak in?
“Are all of the guards all right?” I ask, but no one is listening to me. They’re too single-minded with their supposedly righteous rage and hatred.
Blood Haven: Year One: A Mayhem of Magic World Story Page 13
