The Vampires Torment

Chapter Fourteen

Seraphina POV.

"Rule Number 5 Do Not and I repeat Do Not utter a single word to anyone who you are to me. No one is to know that you are my beloved,” my mate stated to me through clenched teeth.

The moment the words left his mouth I wanted to drop down to my knees, ball up like a baby and cry. But I didn’t.

I don’t want to cry anymore. I’m not going to cry anymore.

I refuse to shed another tear.

Cyrus’ rejection is taking me down a dark path of self-destruction and my human side is slowly but surely becoming restless.

I don’t have the energy to cry. I’ve shed way too many tears since I’ve met him in this short period. I don’t want to be that pitiful girl. I’m not!

I need to get myself together and push through this.

I don’t have the strength to be battling with myself and battling with my mate for his affection and love. I’ve to get it together. I just have too. With that thought, I make my way into the bathroom.

The first thing my hazel eyes set upon is the white bag full of toiletries sitting on the golden toilet seat.

Yes, a gold toilet! The bathroom looks just as lavish as the bedroom. If not better! There is a gold toilet a gold basin, a gold shower, and a gold bathtub. The decor is also gold and there is a squeaky clean marigold marble floor.

I take a deep breath and look at myself in the mirror. The young lady that’s staring back at me is not the same young lady that I’ve grown used to seeing.

For starters, my hair is tangled. A complete tangled messed. However, a little water and a good brushing will do the trick every time. The real troubling news is actually my eyes.

They are puffy, red, and swollen. Plus, my usual hazel shade appears to be dull and void of light, nowhere near as brilliant as they should be. There are dark little critters forming underneath my eyes and my skin looks paler than usual, almost like chalk.

Oh, but let’s not forget about my dry lips and wild, thick, and full eyebrows that can surely need a good plucking.

Oh, my Goddess, I look like hell. I’ve been through some s**t.

Snap! I cursed again and I bought my goddess into this. Oh, Goddess! Please help me. I feel like I’m losing myself. I’m cursing, saying my Goddess name in vain, and I look like a train-wreck.

Feeling like I am completely losing myself. I need to get it together and fast. “I’m Seraphina Blackwood and I can do this,” I give myself a pep talk. “I can show him that we are meant to be one.” I continue to boost my ego.

I smile. Fake smile. The type of smile that Farrah always complained about, you know the one that doesn’t quite reach my ears. I look like a puppet. Fake and fraudulent.

Who am I kidding? I’m not mentally or physically ready to be a part of this world. His world.

Oh, man! Oh, man!

I think to myself while placing both of my hands down on the marble countertop and lowering my head.

“Goddess please give me strength,”

“Yes, Goddess please give her strength,” mocks Cyrus from behind me, making my heart drop, literally.

I turn to face him with my hand placed over the top of my uncontrollable beating heart. “You gave me a fright,” I tell him.

Gosh! I didn’t even hear him come in. He moves so fast and sneaky, like a little church mouse.

“That’s because you weren’t paying attention to your surroundings,” scolds Cyrus.

He’s right I wasn’t but “he doesn’t have to talk to us like we’re a child,” growls my wolf. She’s starting to talk to me more than usual.

“We will be landing fairly soon, I suggest you hurry up and get yourself together,” he advises before turning to walk out of the bathroom door. “Oh, and Seraphina,” he adds in.

My heartbeat goes from zero to a hundred real quick. His last, “Oh, Seraphina,” didn’t do me or my wolf any good.

“Yes,” I answer. In my, you ringed type of voice.

He catches on and the faint red glint inside of his eyes tells me that he doesn’t like my voice tone. Voice tone is everything. Remember I just can’t stretch that enough.

Cyrus walks back into the bathroom and stands directly in front of me. With each step he takes I take a step back.

Only coming to a stop because my back hit the wall, meaning I have nowhere else to go. Cyrus tasteful looking lips curve into a wicked triumphant smirk, confirming the very obvious. I’m trapped.

Just that quick, that indescribable energy is back, blowing at full force. He lifts his hand to touch my face. It’s just a phantom of a touch and I almost lean into it.

“Rule Number 6,” he suddenly says, clearing his throat while slightly pulling away.

“You must pay attention to your surroundings at all times,” he tells me. “Do you understand?”

I quickly nod my head in agreement.

“Good,” whispers my mate. He’s still standing directly in front of me and it’s taking all of my self-control not to pull him in closer. “Very Good,” he continues with his husky voice. “Now hurry up. There is a lot to be done, especially if you’re going to show me that we are meant to be one.”

He is gone before I fully catch on to his words. He heard me, I think to myself as my face turns fifty shades of red.

How freaking embarrassing?

Goddess, he’s good! Goddess, Goddess he’s good! He’s good a creeping up on me. Good at breaking my heart. Good at gluing my heart together. Excellent at leaving me speechless, and he’s darn sure good at confusing me to the very end.

After, my mate’s departure I managed to make myself appear to be halfway decent well as decent as one can get with some water, a brush, a toothbrush, and some over-sized clothes.

Not my best appearance, I’m sure but I look better than I did before I entered. Well, actually I look much better. One thing that I know how to do is make myself look presentable. I may not be the best of the best, but I’m good enough to push through. So that’s, that!

The trench coat that Cyrus was referring to was a little too big. Okay, it was a lot bigger than I expected! So I declined the opportunity of wearing it and took it upon myself to place on a leather jacket instead. It’s not really as stylish as my leather jacket that perished in the Northern Border fire however it smelled like my mate so it’s fine by me.

Hopefully, my decision doesn’t upset my mate. That’s the last thing I want to do, trust me.

I guess I’m about to find out because after 15 minutes of me utilizing borrowed time I submerge from out of the bedroom and walk into what appears to be a lounge area.

There’s a bar that stocked with any and everything, completed with a half-dressed and very attractive vampire woman who appears to be going over some type of checklist. Her nose wrinkles as she looks up to face me with pure disgust, but she doesn’t say a thing.

I offer her a small smile anyway. It’s best to treat others how you want to be treated, even if the other party doesn’t see things the same way.

“Hello, I’m Seraphina and you are?”

She doesn’t respond. She just simply turns her back on me.

Ouch! Talk about the cold shoulder. I ignore her and focus on other things. My eyes start to wonder coming into contact with a total of three more expensive leather sectionals and each one has their own personal marigold circular minibar placed directly in front of the chair. There are chandlers placed over the top of each sectional and each area is also equipped with their own humongous flat-screen T.V.

Yes, televisions do still exist in the World after the awakening. It’s just Vampires are the ones who control the media and networks. So, anything on the television consists of their world.

That’s why we watch old reruns of human shows and VCR’s tapes back at the pack houses, and we have even been lucky enough to retrieve some old records.

In this world, you get what you find and that’s, that!

So, of course, I’m absolutely intrigued by all the luxury items that I’m currently viewing. The vampire is certainly living their best lives.

That’s for sure!

The lounge area is way more expressive than any room back at the North or Western packhouse. I can stand here for another century, just exploring the wonders inside of this room.

Apparently, my mate has other plans. He comes storming into the room with the grace of a predator. His mahogany hair is whisked, less than flawless. It makes appear to be very youthful plus wild and dangerous.

He always looks dangerous. Cyrus’s eyes scan me up and down. His pupils dilate and darken, appearing to be liquid gold for a long drown out moment. However, his features changed quicker than one can blink, turning into steely-eyed stare within a second.

This confirms two very important things.

Important thing number one, he likes my appearance very, very much. He thinks I’m pretty. Oh, Goddess, he thinks I’m pretty.

TO BE CONTINUED...