CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
26
Morwenna
“It’ll be alright, Morwenna,” Valentine murmured, her hand instinctively reaching out to envelop me in a hug. The simple gesture was exactly what I craved – a comforting anchor in the storm. “He’s going to be fine,” she continued softly, rubbing soothing circles on my back before releasing me.
My gaze darted to her face, concern etching lines upon my brow. The exhaustion was evident in the dark circles beneath her eyes, and her usually immaculate hair was now a testament to the stressful night. Thank heavens for her medical expertise and the well-stocked emergency kit in her house. It was a saving grace in moments like this.
“Is Daniel awake?” I rasped, my voice thick with worry.
“Yes, I believe so. I administered a sedative – Versed, to be precise – to ensure his rest. He should rouse soon.”
“Thank you,” I breathed, sincerity lacing my tone. “I truly don’t know what I would have done without you here.”
Valentine squeezed my hand reassuringly. “Despite him being my nephew, I’ve always considered Daniel a son, especially after his mother’s passing. His well-being is paramount to me. So, the thanks belong to you for being his constant.”
Her words struck a chord deep within me. A constant? A pang of guilt washed over me.
In truth, I hadn’t always been there for him, often choosing to distance myself.
Yet, Daniel, with his unwavering loyalty, had always been my rock.
Valentine, thankfully, remained blissfully unaware of Daniel’s visit to the Vimics’ estate. He likely spared her the worry, knowing it could exacerbate her existing health concerns. Stress, as you know, can affect blood sugar regulation, and the last thing we needed was another medical crisis. Additionally, the trauma of the vampires’ initial attack, targeting both Daniel and myself, was a story she simply couldn’t bear to relive right now.
Focusing on the present – on being here, on being home – was my priority.
“Daniel’s lucky to have you too,” I replied, echoing Valentine’s sentiment. A comfortable silence settled between us for a moment before she spoke.
“So, did the vampire lord release you, or did you escape?” Valentine inquired, her voice laced with curiosity.
I hesitated, searching for the right words. “He released me,” I finally answered.
“Wow, really? I always assumed the vampire lord was a cold, aloof creature – not one to let his captives go so easily,” Valentine said, raising an eyebrow in surprise. “At least, that’s what the rumors say.” A knowing smile played on her lips. “This city loves its gossip, doesn’t it? Can be entertaining, as long as it doesn’t get out of hand.”
“Maybe he’s not entirely cold,” I ventured, a hint of defiance in my voice. “Perhaps… lonely?”
Valentine’s eyebrows shot up again, a silent question hanging in the air.
“Everyone has a past, Valentine,” I continued, my gaze meeting hers. “A past that haunts them, threatens them, something they try to hide from. Maybe that’s what’s happening with him.” I sighed, a touch of sympathy coloring my words. “Not all whispers are truths. Sometimes you need to see for yourself before drawing conclusions.”
Valentine seemed taken aback by my words. She knew my vehement dislike for vampires, my burning desire to expose them. Defending one, especially the enigmatic vampire king, was a stark contrast to my usual stance.
The truth was, I couldn’t explain my unexpected defense of Draven. Perhaps it was the glimpses of his past I’d seen, the burdens he carried. A pang of empathy stabbed at me. Poor Draven. I pushed the worry away with a mental shake.
“I’ll try to consider that perspective,” she finally conceded. “Jumping to conclusions isn’t my style. It was just the rumors, you know.”
I nodded in understanding. “I know.”
“Thank you for clarifying my mind on that. Sometimes it’s good to know someone deeply beyond just their past,” Valentine said, her words striking a nerve within me. I nodded in agreement, and silence followed.
“What of Theresa?” she inquired, her voice laced with a subtle curiosity. “I confess, I haven’t heard much about her lately.”
A subtle tightening of my lips betrayed a pang of something more complex than mere sadness. “We’ve drifted apart these past three years,” I confessed, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. “There hasn’t been much communication.”
A well-meaning sigh escaped Valentine’s lips. “Poor thing,” she murmured, mistaking my stoicism for sorrow.
Perhaps it was true, a part of me did grieve the fractured bond with Theresa. The last proper conversation we’d shared felt like a lifetime ago, a fleeting exchange precipitated by a summons to Lord Draven’s castle.
Even then, our words remained clipped, her pride a formidable barrier. But no, that pang of sadness had dulled with time. Wherever Theresa may be, it was a concern I no longer harbored.
To deflect the pity in Valentine’s voice, I said, “I believe I should meet Daniel now.”
Valentine nodded. “Of course. And,” she hesitated, then walked purposefully to the dining table nearby. Returning with a tray, she set it before me. “Please help me feed Daniel this. He should take two tablets for his headache, and you must make sure he swallows them. Daniel hates medicine...” she confided with a smile, “so be prepared for a bit of a struggle.”
“I also made soup, Dan’s favorite. It’s hot and should help with the cold he’s feeling,” she added, the aroma of the soup, a tantalizing reminder of Valentine’s culinary prowess, sent a pang through me. Delicious!
“I’ll go get some rest. If you need food or anything, Morwenna, it’s in—”
“No, thank you, Valentine,” I interrupted gently. “I’m truly not hungry.” It was a white lie, of course. Accepting her hospitality always felt…intrusive. It felt like taking something I don’t deserve, like I don’t belong in her family nor with Daniel.
“Okay. If you ever find yourself in need of something to satisfy your hunger, you know where to find food,” she said, giving me a wink before disappearing inside.
With that, I made my way into one of the rooms where Daniel was resting. He lay on the bed, propped up by two or perhaps three pillows, while soft music, a melody I found akin to aimless chirping, filled the room. Ever the romantic, music always painted his world in ethereal hues, whereas for me, it served as mere background noise. His eyes were open, fixed on the window beyond, a tapestry woven with sunlight and shifting shadows while lost in thoughts.
I entered the room, using one hand to steady the tray as I lightly tapped on the door, causing him to snap out of his reverie. He turned his head away from the window and towards me, his arm supporting his weight.
“Morwenna!” he exclaimed, a flicker of surprise flitting across his features as he hauled himself upright.
“Daniel,” I greeted, my voice a touch strained. “Your aunt sent sustenance.”
I approached the bedside table, the wood protesting under the weight of the tray. Placing it down, I straightened, the silence stretching between us.
Daniel’s gaze held mine for an uncomfortably long moment, leaving me flustered. After the events at Draven’s castle, the memory of my confession burning hot in my cheeks, I longed for the comfort of distance.
Yet, here I was, compelled by a sense of gratitude for his unwitting intervention.
After all, it was thanks to him that I’d finally found the courage to dismiss Draven. Perhaps a debt of thanks was owed.
Unable to meet his unwavering gaze any longer, I broke the silence, channeling his aunt’s instructions. “Your aunt mentioned you take two of these,” I said, gesturing to a small vial nestled beside a steaming bowl of soup. “And partake of the soup—”
“Are you alright, Morwenna?” he interjected, his voice laced with concern. It was as if my well-being, rather than his own recovery, occupied his thoughts.
A forced smile stretched my lips, a flimsy reassurance for Daniel. I couldn’t burden him with my anxieties at this juncture. Yet, the grimace felt transparent. “Yeah!” I chirped unconvincingly.
He pierced through my facade. “Don’t lie, Morwenna. You can mask your words and actions, but a body’s instincts, especially emotions like a smile, can’t be fabricated.” My fabricated cheer evaporated, replaced by a downcast gaze. My traitorous finger, previously hovering over the vial of the substance, retreated.
“Do you... like him?” Daniel pressed, a question I dreaded. Silence formed my initial response.
“Answer me!” His voice escalated, threatening to fracture my composure. Despite the tremor that threatened to erupt, I held firm.
His pleading edged me on. “Say something, Morwenna...” A beat of silence followed, “...Please!” The raw vulnerability in his cracked voice was a stark contrast to his usual stoicism.
I finally met his gaze, a ragged breath escaping my lips. “What purpose would it serve, even if I did tell you?” The words tumbled out, heavy with unspoken emotions.
“Because hearing it from you is all that matters,” he confessed. “I’ve respected your boundaries, tried to navigate the complexities of your world. I wanted to understand, Morwenna. More than that, I wanted to know you. Honestly. Because I’ve loved you since high school, all the way to the moment you agreed to be mine.”
He swallowed, the vulnerability a stark contrast to his usual bravado. “Not everyone gets the girl, Morwenna. Rejection or heartbreak, that’s the usual dance. But I fought for you. Anyone who dared disparage you learned the consequences of crossing me. Because I wanted you, every single part of you. I wanted forever, and I respected your need to see me, to truly see me.”
His voice softened. “Morwenna, I’ve loved you. Always have. I thought love bloomed slowly, that your hesitation was a need for space. And I gave it. Time, space, whatever you needed. But tell me now, Morwenna. Tell me after all these years, you saw me. You saw what I did for you. Tell me…” His voice hitched, a raw vulnerability replacing his usual stoicism. “Tell me what you said to that creature was a lie, just a means to escape. Tell me, Morwenna.” A tremor ran through Daniel’s frame. Was that a sniffle? Uncharacteristic vulnerability flickered in his eyes, threatening to spill over. “T-tell me…”
“Daniel, you deserve my respect. I can’t deny you were there, a constant presence in the darkest stretches of my life. When I needed a hand, you were there. When I felt utterly alone, you were a beacon in the void. For that, Daniel, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. Thank you for loving me with a fierceness I’d never known. Thank you for risking everything, even your life, to keep me safe. Thank you for making me feel special, cherished.”
“But...” (the word hung heavy in the air, a dam threatening to burst). There’s always a “but,” an unwelcome truth looming in my life, especially now. “The truth is, I never reciprocated your feelings. The love you have for me, it never found its echo within my heart. I fear it never will, not in the way you yearn for it.”
He swallowed hard, the movement a stark counterpoint to the stillness that had descended upon us. “Love takes time, Morwenna,” he pleaded. “Give me a chance, and I know you’ll see what I see. You’ll fall for me again. All I need to do is…”
“Daniel,” I interrupted gently, “you misunderstand. It’s not a matter of time. It’s a matter of the heart.”
He pressed on, a flicker of desperation in his eyes. “I’ll be the perfect romantic, just like you want. Chocolates, hand-holding, endless space – whatever it takes to win your affection.”
“Please, Daniel!” My voice rose a touch in urgency. “Don’t you see? It’s not about grand gestures. It’s about a connection I simply don’t feel.”
A shadow crossed his face. “But you feel it for him, don’t you? That… that damned vampire king.” His gaze intensified, and for a moment, I faltered under its scrutiny. Then, realization dawned on him, a bitter truth twisting his features. “You love him, Morwenna. No, please, say it isn’t so! Six and a half years I’ve fought for you, endured trials beyond measure. Don’t tell me you’ve fallen for one of the city’s most notorious bloodsuckers?” His voice crackled with a mix of sorrow and disbelief.
I met his gaze, unflinching. “You asked for the truth, Daniel. And there’s the truth…”
“No!” Daniel exploded, springing from the bed. Fury contorted his features. “I fought for you, Morwenna! Fought for our love! I sacrificed everything, and you...” His voice trailed off, replaced by a bitter scoff. “You choose a vampire king who couldn’t care less. He didn’t even need to lift a finger to woo you.” He got up from the bed as he advanced towards me, his every step a physical manifestation of his frustration as I retreated.
“Did he charm you?” he pressed, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. “Of course he did. Vampires are notorious for their seductive ways. He simply beguiled you, Morwenna.” Another step forward, met by another of mine back. “And not only that, I noticed the garlic dust affected the other vampires, yet not him.” He paused, a finger tapping his jaw in a thoughtful manner. “He’s a witch, Morwenna!” he exclaimed, his eyes snapping up to lock with mine. The realization widened them to an alarming degree. It sent a tremor through me.
(I knew Draven was a wizard, of course. I recognized it the very first time I laid eyes on him.)
“And he’s woven a spell around you,” Daniel pressed on, his voice tight. “You can’t be in love with him, Morwenna. It’s impossible. You have to break free of his enchantment!”
“Stop it, Daniel!” I cried, frustration bubbling over. “It’s not—”
“Don’t deny it,” he cut me off, his voice hardening. “I procured charms, potent ones crafted by a powerful witch, yet you remained unmoved.”
My brow furrowed in confusion. “What did you just say?”
“Yes I do confess, I traded with a witch, bartered for a love potion. Your constant rebuffs whenever I touched you… I thought, perhaps a little nudge in the right direction. But the potion… it didn’t affect you. Instead, it seems, your dear mother fell victim to its influence.”
A strange sense of clarity washed over me. No anger, just a chilling understanding. Daniel, in a misguided attempt to win my affection, had used a love potion. My mother’s constant matchmaking and her seemingly unnatural fondness for Daniel all clicked into place. But why was I unaffected? The answer hit me like a bolt of lightning. My immunity to the potion had to be connected to my true nature – Victoria’s reincarnation. Of course. But I wouldn’t reveal that secret to him. Not that I wanted to. I won’t.
“Morwenna,” Daniel’s voice scraped against the silence, laced with an undercurrent of something I couldn’t quite place. “Maybe there’s a reason for the whispers, the way people treat you like a…curse.” He paused, the air thickening with unspoken accusation. “The love potion didn’t touch you. Every other person who tasted it – your mom included – they fell head over heels. You, Morwenna Petrova, must be...” He trailed off, a predator savoring the kill. My breath hitched in my throat. Was he about to say it? Victoria’s reincarnation? But of course, he wouldn’t. He had no clue about the life I wasn’t supposed to remember. Finally, the word tumbled out, heavy and chilling. “A witch.”
I let out a humorless scoff. “Maybe you should get some rest, Daniel.”
“So you think I’m crazy? Everyone else sees it too, Morwenna. They whisper behind your back, call you a curse. I just think you’re a witch – a demon in human form!” His words tore at something deep within me, a raw nerve exposed. Images flickered behind my eyes – a mob of angry faces, a cacophony of shouts.
“Demon! Burn the witch!”
“Burn her!”
My vision blurred, my breath coming in ragged gasps. These weren’t my memories. They were hers. Victoria’s. My body was a vessel, experiencing her terror firsthand.
“I need to get out of here,” I choked out, the taste of fear metallic on my tongue. “I just came to check on you, make sure you took your meds. Eat. Sleep.” I lunged for the door, only to have Daniel clamp a hand on my wrist. A jolt of disgust shot through me.
“Morwenna, wait! I didn’t mean it like that. We’re still… a team, right? Couples fight. I shouldn’t have brought up the rumors, the way they treat you. Please, just—”
“Let’s break up,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. His eyes, usually a warm chocolate brown, darkened with a storm of emotions. “Let’s end this, Daniel. I don’t want to live with you anymore, and I don’t want you to treat me like your girlfriend. This should be the end... the end of us!”
“No,” he pleaded, his grip tightening on my hand. But this time, it wasn’t a possessive touch, it was a desperate one. I managed to pull away gently.
“No, Morwenna. Please,” he rasped, his voice cracking. Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision. “This can’t be the end of it. Not yet.”
“Daniel,” I began, my tone softening as I tried to soothe the rising panic in his voice. But it was like trying to reason with a hurricane.
“This can’t be it,” he pleaded, his voice cracking. “There has to be another way. I’ll do anything. Anything you want.”
Desperation gnawed at me, battling with the fierce ache in my chest. “It’s not about wants, Daniel. It’s about what I need.”
“Then tell me what you need!” he roared, his vulnerability now a terrifying storm. “Do you want me to beg? Do you want me to...to become a vampire so you can fall for me, huh?”
Tears welled in my eyes, blurring the image of his distraught face. “No, Daniel,” I choked out, my voice thick with emotion. “I just...”
The sudden intrusion shattered the fragile moment. Valentine burst into the room, her brow furrowed with concern. “What’s going on?” she asked, her gaze flitting between us. Before I could answer, she turned to Daniel, her voice laced with forced calm. “You need to rest, Dan. Go back to bed.”
Daniel shook his head, his eyes pleading with mine. “No, Aunt Val. This can’t be over.”
Valentine’s gaze swung back to me, confusion darkening her features.
My voice, when it finally came, felt like sandpaper scraping against raw flesh. “I, uh... I should probably go,” I stammered, already turning towards the door.
A strangled cry escaped Daniel’s lips as I fled, his desperate voice echoing behind me.
Valentine’s frantic pleas for him to calm down merged with the pounding of my own heart.
I ignored them all, my legs carrying me forward on autopilot.
Hailing a cab, I collapsed into the back seat the moment the door clicked shut.
Relief washed over me, mingled with a fresh wave of guilt.
In the rearview mirror, I caught a glimpse of Daniel’s frantic figure, recklessly darting into the street in a desperate attempt to stop the cab. He was a whirlwind of hurt and confusion, unable to grasp the finality of my decision.
This wasn’t about him being crazy or obsessed. It was about him not being the one I needed. And leaving, as painful as it was, felt like the only way to finally breathe again.
“Morwenna, for God’s sake, let’s talk this out, please!” His bellow could’ve curdled milk, the kind of roar guaranteed to draw the curtains of every nosey neighbor within a two-block radius. Just what I didn’t need – front-row seats to the gossip mill churning my name into chum.
“Please,” he pleaded, the desperation in his voice a discordant note in the symphony of his prior bluster.
With a curt nod to the taxi driver, I barked, “U-turn. Now.” The tires squealed in protest as the car lurched, putting a healthy distance between me and Daniel’s increasingly frantic form in the rearview mirror. He sputtered something, his lips moving in a frantic pantomime, possibly even yelling my name. I refused to look back, forcing myself into a shallow inhale-exhale rhythm.
My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, a counterpoint to the city’s symphony of honking horns.
A pang of guilt stabbed at me, a traitor in the face of my newfound resolve. But it was a fleeting pang. Daniel would heal, eventually. He had to.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I could almost feel Draven’s presence, a ghostly chill whispering against my skin.
His enigmatic aura, as cold and captivating as ever, clung to me like a second skin.
No matter how hard I tried, the man refused to be evicted from the recesses of my mind.
Forgetting him, it seemed, was a Herculean task, one that left me feeling utterly defeated.