The Vampires Torment

Chapter Three

Seraphina POV.

Koda refused to let my new guards and babysitter inside her home. They're currently outside, searching her yard for invisible threats.

The moment we step into her Shepherd's Hut, my senses are overwhelmed. I stand in the center of her home, inhaling deeply. The aroma is mouthwatering, and my stomach grumbles in response as I take in my new surroundings.

A blend of peppery and sweet cinnamon scents fills the small space, making my taste buds tingle and my mouth water. Her home is enchanting. The kitchen, living room, dining area, and bedroom are all contained within one room. Red, white, and green checkered curtains hang over matching striped furniture.

To the right of the sofa is the tiny kitchen, complete with a painted Irish green wooden cabinet, a matching sink, and a miniature red refrigerator. A small iron stove plate and an even smaller oven host the splendid smells. Built-in shelves hold multicolored cups and pots above the refrigerator, with other colorful dishes on a shelf atop the cabinet.

The bed sits to the left, covered with a red and tan wolf-printed quilt, and a heater rests by the front door. As my eyes finish exploring, I think about how complicated my life has become. This is simple. This is life.

“Are you hungry, my dear?” Koda asks, her voice warm. My growling stomach answers for me, and she grins.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Get comfortable while I grab you a bowl of my famous chili and a plate of cinnamon cornbread.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I say politely, not wanting to intrude despite my eagerness.

“Nonsense,” she replies, grabbing a bowl and red oven mitts before revealing golden bread from the oven. “It’s an honor. Now, sit!” Her tone leaves no room for argument.

I sit on the sofa, my mind wandering. My spoiled upbringing contrasts sharply with this simplicity. I’m used to the pack home, not grand mansions or extraordinary palaces. It's easy to forget that other wolves hunt for every meal or live without a pack. They prefer independence, living by their own rules. How brave they are.

“Have you ever had chili? Any preferred toppings?” Koda asks.

“Sour cream and cheese, please,” I answer.

She nods. “I should have known. You lived near the Southern Border.”

Instead of replying, I smile softly. My dad often brought back chili, fresh peaches, and pomegranate juice from the south. Those were the days. He always spoke of the Southern Alpha’s hospitality. I was fascinated by her.

“The people who love to eat are always,”

“The best people,” I finish. “My father used to say that all the time.”

Koda places two bowls of chili and a plate of cinnamon-scented bread on the small table. After handing me a spoon and napkins, she sits beside me. “Your dad is a smart man. Blackwood wolves are known for their intelligence.” She pushes the bowl toward me, and the peppery aroma fills my senses. The cheese is melted, and the sour cream thick. I take a spoonful, savoring the flavors. The chili is even better than it smells—warm, delicious, with the perfect blend of spices. I finish the bowl quickly, licking the spoon clean.

Koda snickers, pushing the bread toward me. The cinnamon scent traps me, and the bread’s soft, moist texture is heavenly. I'm in a blissful bubble, savoring every bite. Food is truly the way to one's heart.

“It’s that good, huh?” Koda asks with a snicker.

“Thank you. Your chili is famous for a reason, and the cornbread is the best I’ve ever had.”

“Through food, water, shelter, and protection,” she chuckles. “Even Lycans thrive on a full belly. Their Prince is no exception.” She takes my empty bowl and plate to the sink.

My happy bubble bursts, and I fidget with my hands. “What’s troubling you, my child?” Koda asks.

“I’m fine,” I lie, hating the deceit. She raises an eyebrow, knowing I’m lying. Wolves can always tell. “I’m just full. Thank you again.”

“You don’t have to lie,” she scolds gently. “You’re horrible at it. The worst liar I’ve ever met.” She laughs, and I like it. “The best people are the ones that like to eat, remember?”

I nod, and she continues. “Your secrets are safe with me. Now, tell me the truth. What’s really bothering you?”

“I am afraid.”

“Afraid of what, my dear?”

“Everything,” I confess, pouring my heart out. I tell her about my father forcing me into an arranged union with the Lycan Prince, the Lycans' agreement to fight for us because of it, and my fear of not being worthy to call myself his mate. She listens quietly, without judgment. It’s exactly what I needed.

“We should all be able to coexist,” I ramble as we wash dishes. “Vampires have done terrible things, but so have we. Two wrongs don’t make a right.”

“You cannot compare apples to oranges,” Koda responds. “Werewolves kill to defend and protect, not for sport like vampires.”

“I’ve lived for centuries, Seraphina. I’ve seen the horrors vampires are capable of, especially their King. He’s ruthless. I’m glad he shall soon meet his end.”

I lower my head. “Needless vengeance is not the way forward.”

“It is when it comes to a wolf,” she ends the conversation.

I hand her the towel, and she smiles warmly. “Thank you, my dear.”

“You’re welcome,” I respond as she hands me a mug of hot chocolate. The rich, warm texture soothes me. This is peaceful, a simplicity I crave. During our conversation, Koda said it’s an honor to be mated to a Lycan and that I should count my blessings. But she’s the lucky one. Her life is simple, fulfilling, without obligations or arranged unions.

Suddenly, Ruq bursts in, scaring me. The two Lycan warriors follow close behind. I jump, dropping the mug and cutting my foot. Ruq grabs my arm. “You need to come with me now.”

“How dare you?” Koda growls, following us. “You have no right barging into my hut.”

He ignores her, dragging me outside. “I will report your disrespect to your Alpha,” Koda warns, the village wolves gathering around us.

Ruq stops, turning to face her with glowing golden eyes. “Go ahead, old hag. Whose orders do you think I’m following?”

She growls, but the Lycan warriors pull her back. The village wolves watch silently.

“What is the meaning of this?” someone shouts from the crowd.

“None of your business,” Ruq snaps. Higher authority wolves don’t like being challenged.

“I’ll make it my business,” the unknown voice replies, and the wolves part to reveal a Lucian with glowing green eyes and an unshaven face. What is a Lucian doing here?

“Who the f**k are you?” Ruq demands.

“No one,” the Lucian replies. “The real question is who are you?”

“None of your business, Lucian. Go back to your hell hole,” Ruq snaps, turning away.

“Well, it does concern me if you’re a member of the Northern Pack,” the Lucian says.

“So what if I am?”

“The Cold-Hearted King arrived with your rumored dead Luna,” the Lucian says.

Ruq stops. “She’s already contacted us,” he hisses. “So leave.”

The Lucian’s eyes flash, but he turns away. “Until next time,” he says.

“There will be no next time,” Ruq replies, dragging me away.

“Ruq, that was uncalled for,” I say softly.

“Silence, Seraphina,” he hisses. “What has gotten into you? First, you challenge Dad, now me. Don’t forget your place. My actions are for your protection.”

My wolf growls inside me, but I submit. “Please forgive me,” I say, lowering my head.

“You’re forgiven,” he says, examining my cut. “Come, let's get this cleaned up, Embug.” He picks me up and we reenter the hut.