Darius

When I wake, Viola is still reading by the light of a single candle. She’s so focused on her book that I can watch her freely. She’s delicate to look at, and the thought of a man William’s size forcing himself on her, intruding on her slender frame, fills me with anger.

I grumble to myself and tear my eyes away from her, unable to keep the rage at bay. I’ll destroy him for touching her. I will hunt him down and show him what it feels like to be prey.

“Did you know the human heart has four chambers and pumps over 1000 liters of blood every day?” Viola glances up at me from her book. “Fascinating.”

She turns the page and continues to read what appears to be a medical journal.

“How long was I asleep?” I ask.

“I don’t know, I lost track of time.” Viola closes her book and looks at me. “Can you tell me more about yourself? Your life before here?”

“It’s been a very long life, Viola. I hardly remember a time when I was human. Where does one start…?”

Propping her head on her hand, Viola lies on her side and makes herself comfortable. “From the beginning. We have the time.”

By the look on her face, I can see Viola won’t budge—she wants a story and expects me to tell it.

“Very well. I was born in 1680 in what was then the capital of Korea, the Kingdom of Joseon. My father was the General of the Emperor’s army, and it was my duty to follow in his footsteps.”

“You were a warrior?” Viola’s expression shows a mix of impressed curiosity and confusion, most likely asking herself how a Vampyre warrior could possibly end up in my predicament.

“Yes, but I grew up in a time of peace. My father had fought in the Manchu invasion, but without war, there was no way for me to prove myself.”

“And how did you become…this?”

“A Vampyre?” I ask, noticing Viola’s reluctance to say the word.

Viola nods.

“In 1653, a Dutch ship wrecked on Jeju Island. One of the passengers was a Vampyre looking to start a new life for himself. People had slowly been going missing over a period of years, and there were rumors of Daemons roaming the island. I was sent with my men to investigate.”

I pause, reminiscing about the first time I laid eyes on Stefan, my maker.

“I had never seen anyone like him before with yellow hair and blue eyes. That alone was strange, but he had a presence about him that struck fear into my then very human and very mortal soul. He killed most of my men while the others fled.

“Not just anyone can be turned into a Vampyre, Viola. It is not only a long and complex process, but our venom will only react with a select few. I don’t know exactly how it works, but it’s a combination of science and magic, and the individual must already possess magic within them to turn.”

Viola looks down at her fingers. “So why did he choose to turn you?”

I snicker. “Because I nearly killed him.”

Viola smiles. “Really? As a human?”

“We were on the brink of killing each other, in fact. I awoke days later, drenched in blood, with the gruesome realization of what I had done. The insatiable hunger within me, the beast he had transformed me into, needed to feed, and at that time, I had no control over it.

“It took years to master that thirst, but my background as a warrior provided a foundation of self-discipline that made it somewhat more manageable for me than for others. I returned to my father, revealing to him what I had become. My maker warned me against it, fearing the temptation might be too great to resist. However, I had a sister to protect, and her children were my sole connection to the world of the living, my only hope for a lineage.”

Speaking of my family brought back a flood of grief that I had long buried. No matter how much time passes, I will never forget the love of my father.

“Despite returning to him as a monstrous being, my father never abandoned me. I learned to control my bloodlust and continued to serve. That was until it became evident that I was not aging or slowing down with time. Instead, I grew stronger and faster than any of the newer recruits.”

I glance at Viola, hearing her stifled sobs. “Viola, why are you crying?”

She gazes up at me, attempting to stifle her tears. “Your father sounds like a good man…I miss my father; he was a good man, too.”

Viola’s sobs grow louder, the first time I’ve heard her cry since she arrived at this wretched place.

“He was supposed to protect me from this… He left me…” Viola covers her face, her crying intensifying.

I say nothing to interrupt her—she has held everything in for so long that it’s time she released it all. Little does she know that there was nothing natural about her father’s death.

“Viola, darling,” I sigh as she shows no signs of stopping. “Your father did not leave you. I don’t want you to go another day believing that he abandoned you. Your father was taken from you.”

Viola sobs, her eyes filled with glistening tears. “What do you mean?”

“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, but you deserve to know the truth. It was William who orchestrated your father’s death. After you didn’t immediately accept his proposal, there was nothing more he wanted than to own you. He forced you into it, much like he did with Emily.”

I observe Viola closely in the flickering light of the candle. As the pieces suddenly fall into place in her mind, I witness the slow transformation of her sadness into fury. It seethes just beneath the surface of her calm exterior, a storm ready to break and unleash itself onto the world.

“What you’re feeling now,” I start, “that fury; use it as fuel for the fire, but don’t allow it to consume you and control your actions. It will make you blind and foolish. William thinks you’re a weak fool, Viola; prove him otherwise.”

For a long moment, Viola says nothing as she gazes into the darkness, and I start to regret telling her.

I wish I could shield her from all of this pain, take her, and hold her in my arms. I’m not the same man I once was—my body is dead and colder than ice, but something about Viola makes me feel warm. Almost as if with every passing minute she’s near, she resurrects me, cell by cell.

“Thank you for telling me…” Viola says, wiping the tears from her cheeks. “It’s nice not to be tiptoed around.”

“I wish…” I start but stop myself from finishing my sentence.

I shake my head, unsure of what possessed me to voice such words to such a charming creature.

Viola looks at me expectantly, prompting me to continue. “You wish…?”

I close my eyes and look away, preparing for the shame and rejection that will surely follow.

“I wish that I could hold you in my arms and comfort you,” I confess, despite my monstrous appearance.

“As do I,” Viola replies quietly, capturing my attention with those three little words.

If I could breathe, I’d be holding my breath. She wants me to hold her, even looking like this?

After all the years of enduring William’s relentless trampling of my ego, pride, and strength, Viola seems to have stirred my ego back to life.

“I’d better get going. I imagine only Sophie would miss me, but I’d rather not raise too much suspicion,” Viola says, rising to her feet and gathering her books onto her tea tray.

She takes them to the library before returning for her candle.

Viola picks up her candle from the floor and pauses to give me one last look before leaving. “Good night, Darius.”

She heads to the door, softly closes and locks it, once again leaving me alone in the darkness. All that remains is the lingering scent of jasmine and sea in the air and a warm feeling deep within my heart.

That was the first time she called me Darius.

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