Her Forbidden Mate

The Draven Family

There were two black limousines driving past the training grounds. The glass was tinted, but Camelia could tell that the aura she was sensing was coming from the rear vehicle.

The cars drove past the training grounds, and the air finally cleared, the thickness in the atmosphere dissipating as if it had never been there.

Camelia stood up from the girl's prone form and began walking away.

"If you ever utter my mother's name again, I'll make you count your teeth from the ground," she said as she strode toward the direction of her house. "Now I'm late for lunch, crap," she muttered to herself.

In one of the limousines, the Draven family sat in silence. Aria held some cards in her hands, her fingers shuffling them with a soft rustle, the only sound breaking the silence. She sat nestled beside her husband, Lucas, her head resting on his shoulder like a weary bird finding its nest.

Across from them, Thomas and Ian sat silently. Ian's eyes were shut calmly, almost as if he were meditating, while softly tapping a finger on his thigh.

"Quick question, Ian..." Thomas started, his gaze turning to Ian. "What was that back there?" he asked.

"You have to be more specific, Thomas," Ian said after a few seconds, his eyes still closed.

"Why did your aura suddenly spike up? I'm sure I wasn't the only one who noticed the change, right?" Thomas said, looking toward the couple for their input, but they showed no sign of joining in, so he rolled his eyes. "So...?" he faced Ian again, waiting for his response.

"I hate this place. And I hate the sound of your voice," Ian said, boredom and irritation evident in his tone. His eyes slowly opened as he leaned back in his seat, staring upward. A frown creased his brows when he still felt Thomas's gaze on him. His brother was not backing down. "I thought I saw someone familiar, but I was probably mistaken," he added, his voice low but audible enough.

The car began to slow down, and the Draven family arrived at their residence for the duration of their stay. Ian was the first to step out of the car, the crisp forest air hitting his nose, carrying a strong earthy and pine scent as it swept past his hair. His piercing green eyes fixed on the two-story building in front of him, taking in its architectural design.

The house did not appear too big on the outside, but it was plush, with a mixture of modern and traditional elements, just as the Alpha had mentioned. The particular house was a bit far from the rest of the pack, giving them their own privacy and space.

Ian's gaze swept across the surroundings. The house was surrounded by dense foliage stretching into the distance. Apart from the road their car came through, there were no other roads leading to the house from the pack.

Thomas also hopped out of the car and strode over to stand beside Ian. "So who did you recognize? I thought you didn't know anybody here besides their Alpha," Thomas questioned.

Without replying to his over-chattering brother, Ian sauntered toward the patio of the house, one of their servants opening the door for his lord with a low bow. The interior of the house was even better than one would imagine.

A huge chandelier hung above, casting a warm glow over the rich, clean oil paintings adorning the cream-colored walls. Ian's eyes scanned the room, his gaze lingering on the paintings before moving to the spiral staircase. The staircase was made of pure marble, and the iron banister gleamed in the soft light.

Ian's brows furrowed in distaste, displeased by the color of the paintings. He had insisted on darker paint prior to his arrival.

"Such incompetence," he scoffed, taking off his jacket as he strode toward the spiral stairs.

Thomas remained standing outside for a moment with a calculating look before stalking after his brother, sprinting into the house to meet up with him. As they went up the stairs, Thomas winced when the rosemary scent from the house hit his nose, and he frowned.

"Disgusting," he muttered under his breath.

But the next second, his irritated face was replaced with enthusiasm as he draped an arm over his brother's shoulder.

"Want to go out and find some pretty girls later tonight? What do you say?" Thomas persisted in vexing his brother.

Grabbing his wrist without warning, Ian twisted it and kicked Thomas off the stairs, sending him crashing violently to the floor. Ian proceeded on his way, dusting off his shoulder where Thomas had touched, as though cleaning off something unpleasant.

Sitting up almost immediately, Thomas smirked, watching his brother go up the stairs, his crimson eyes glimmering with admiration. He fixed his wrist back into place before standing up, as if he hadn't just been kicked off a flight of stairs.

"Keep tempting him, and one of these days he'll rip off your head," Aria said from behind, gaining his attention as he turned toward her and Lucas.

"I never really understand how you've managed to stay alive for this long," Lucas commented, glancing at his brother's disheveled hair.

"Do you really have to stress that pretty head of yours thinking about such things? We're undead, so I'm practicing not being alive," Thomas said, shrugging.

Lucas glared at him.

"I'd advise that you behave while we're here. We're on an assignment, so try not to f*ck things up like you usually do," Lucas said as they walked past Thomas.

A hidden warning lingered in his voice, which Thomas took note of as his expression turned serious in an instant.

*****

The warm sun rose from the horizon, bathing the forest in its soothing glow. Dewdrops from the previous night clung to leaves like tiny crystals, gently dripping down and wetting the musky earth. Camelia glanced behind her to ensure she wasn’t being followed as she walked deeper into the cluster of trees, water droplets falling onto her hair from above.

She finally reached her destination, near a small creek that flowed steadily, its clear waters carrying fallen dried leaves, beautifully whisking them away like tiny boats.

There was a young man sitting on a large fallen tree, his broad back turned toward Camelia. He seemed distracted by the book in his hands, gently running his fingers through his brown hair.

Camelia smiled mischievously as she silently sneaked behind him, hoping to startle him before he noticed her. But she stepped on a twig, the cracking sound alerting him to her presence, and he immediately glanced over his shoulder at her before refocusing on his book.

"You're still terrible at masking your presence. I could smell you from a mile away," he said.

Not minding his words, Camelia skipped over to sit beside him, peeking into the book in his hands.

Dart was the closest and only friend she had. Despite his status as the Alpha's son, he still chose to be her friend and even took time to train her and teach her basic things.

"What are you reading? I didn’t know you could read, Dart," she teased.

"At least now you know I’m not an egghead like you," he said, flipping a page. "Did you have to beat up that girl yesterday?" he asked, changing the subject.

Camelia's eyes widened slightly, and she sighed. "So you’ve heard about that," she said, her gaze dropping to the ground.

"My father is not going to let this one slide. Trust me, Sophie made sure of that," he said with a grim expression. He finally placed the book down and faced her.

"But try not to think about it. He might forget about it after the welcoming ceremony this evening," he added, trying to ease her.

Hearing about a welcoming ceremony, Camelia's ears perked up.

"What welcoming ceremony? Did an Alpha visit?" she asked, staring at him expectantly.

Dart scratched his head, his expression turning nervous.

"Not exactly," he said, his face turning serious. "My father made a deal to help protect the pack from the rogue attacks," he paused, as if choosing his next words carefully.

"Oh, I noticed some cars pass the training grounds yesterday," she said, immediately remembering the aura she had sensed. The thought of it still sent chills down her spine.

"Are they witches? The people the Alpha made the deal with?" Camelia asked, curiosity filling her eyes.

Dart's knuckles clenched, turning white, an unsettling expression crossing his face.

"They're not witches... they're vampires, Camelia. And the worst kind."

.....