Darius

Leaving Viola’s side is difficult, but with her blood still coursing through my veins, I need to capitalize on the situation and gather all the paperwork necessary for our visit to William’s lawyer—starting the adoption process promptly is crucial, and with the heightened speed afforded by Viola’s blood, I can sift through every document in William’s office within minutes—the key to dismantling a man like him lay in the finer details of the legal system.

That and Sophie literally shooes me toward the door as I hesitate to leave Viola, reluctant to let her out of my sight.

“Go replace the papers we need, quickly,” Sophie orders me as she bravely guides me out of Viola’s bedroom.

I eye Sophie, projecting my aura, prompting her to withdraw her hands from my person. Just because I love her pseudo-daughter doesn’t mean I’ll tolerate being treated like a child—after all, I am four generations her senior.

Sophie nervously lowers her eyes.

“I will not let her sleep covered in blood,” she says quietly.

I growl in displeasure as I leave Viola’s room, and now I replace myself sorting through papers. This is not what I imagined myself doing upon my liberation.

As much as I’m tempted to return to my former prison and dispose of William with a mere flick of my finger, I opt to take a page from Viola’s playbook and dismantle him not just in death but in history.

Locating everything I need takes minutes—birth certificate, marriage license, property deeds, and financial records—all of it and more. The more I dig, the clearer it becomes why William married Viola—her father’s real estate holdings are astounding, with three properties in Korea alone. I can see Sophie insisted I gather everything as soon as possible. Now, they will rightfully belong to my Viola.

Before leaving William’s secret office, I decide to check on him in person. Although I can always peer through his eyes, I want to witness this firsthand. As I approach, I sense his smoldering anger and compel him to face me.

William has always been much broader than me, his strength coming from brute force. Sometimes, I wonder who would win in a fair fight if I were human again—though knowing I nearly defeated my own maker as a man, I already know the answer to that hypothetical question.

“How does it feel to be completely powerless, William? Now that you’re down here, you’ll have some time to reflect on all you’ve done and seek forgiveness from whichever god you believe in.”

I take one last look at William before locking him in and making my way up to Viola’s room, carrying all the documents and other potentially useful items from William’s office packed in a satchel.

As I pass Elliott’s bedroom, I’m tempted to check on him. Emily’s son is right here, behind this door, my great-great-great-grandnephew. William sent him away to live with his sister to hurt me, and it worked. I may not be human, but it doesn’t mean I can’t cling to whatever humanity I have left.

As I reach for the door handle, I notice my long nails and hair and realize I’ve been wearing the same clothing for three years. I’m yet to see myself in the mirror. I might feel better than ever, but I want to ensure that when Viola and Elliott see me for the first time, I don’t look like a peasant.

William’s clothes won’t fit me; I’m taller but slimmer than he is. Perhaps Sophie can help me with this.

I softly tap on Viola’s door. When Sophie peeks out and sees me, she opens it wider.

“Did you replace everything?” She asks.

“Yes,” I place the satchel on a nearby table before rushing to check on Viola.

She’s all cleaned up, peacefully sleeping in a nightgown under her covers.

I sigh with relief and turn to face Sophie. “Sophie, would you be so kind as to cut my hair?”

Sophie appears a little nervous but nods in agreement. “Oui, bien sûr.”

She goes to Viola’s dressing table, takes up a pair of scissors, and motions for me to sit down—even seated, I’m still a little too high for her.

Sophie crosses her arms and studies the back of my head. “It’s really beautiful, are you sure you want to go through with this?”

“This hair is a result of my imprisonment and remains a reminder of my lack of free will. I also want to look more presentable when Viola wakes up,” I reply.

Sophie nods. “Very well. What style are you thinking?”

“Whatever Viola would replace most appealing,” I state matter-of-factly.

In the mirror’s reflection, I see Sophie purse her lips to hide a smile, but her blushing cheeks and girlish giggle give her away.

Once Sophie cuts my hair, she leaves to replace suitable clothing for me. I trim my nails and quickly bathe in Viola’s adjoining bathroom.

I came out with a towel around my waist to replace a pile of clothes neatly folded on the foot of Viola’s bed, with a note from Sophie: “This was all I could replace. I will look for more tomorrow. Good night.”

I’m grateful that Sophie is giving me the space to stay alone with Viola—a man in the room of a married Lady would never be allowed, but this isn’t exactly an ordinary situation.

I get dressed in the pants of what appears to be the chauffeur’s uniform.

After finishing shaving, I enter Viola’s bedroom, drying my face with a small towel and notice the full moon looming in the night sky outside. It’s been so long since I’ve seen the night sky that I almost forgot how beautiful it is. Through a Vampyre’s eyes, the stars burn in more colors than I could possibly name—I don’t even remember what they looked like before my turning, but I’m sure they were enchanting even then.

I’m so mesmerized by their beauty that I don’t hear Viola moving behind me. As I towel my face dry, I catch a pair of eyes watching me in the window’s glass—they reflect a glimmer of red light from within like a Vampyre’s might.

Viola is sitting up in her bed, watching me with a soft smile that widens when I lock eyes with her, revealing her elongated fangs.

I turn around to face her, elated at the sight of her being conscious.

“What gives you the right to be so damned beautiful?” Viola says, resting her head on her tucked-in knees, watching me as a storm of confusion rages within me.

Fangs—my Viola has fangs, but I can clearly hear her heart still beating within her chest. I watch as her eyes freely roam down my bare chest, and the blush that peppers her cheeks only adds to my confusion.

I sit beside her on the bed and cup Viola’s face in my hands. She’s warm, yet those fangs are really there, and her eyes reveal the magic of my venom flowing within her. I touch the tip of her fang with my thumb to check that I’m not hallucinating, and a drop of blood forms on my thumb.

“What are you, darling one?” I hear myself whisper, utterly fascinated by the wonderful creature before me.

Before I can voice the question at the forefront of my mind, Viola grabs my face and brings my lips firmly crashing into hers. Her kiss exudes desperation, lust, and desire, her arms winding around my neck and drawing me closer.

I always prided myself on my otherworldly self-control, but Viola effortlessly dismantles it as if it never existed. My hands replace their way under her nightgown, grazing up her soft, delicate skin, appreciating the curve of her flesh.

I’ve never been affected by a woman like this—my body is as cold as ice—I’m a corpse, animated to imitate life with the use of magic—human-like desires aren’t possible for someone like me. A Vampyre’s joy comes from the hunt, the feed, not sex. Yet, every touch from Viola leaves a trail of flames on my lifeless skin. Her lips and kiss breathe new life into me—quite literally.

Pulling away from Viola, I groan in pain. Pain? I’m not supposed to feel pain.

Viola’s gaze searches my face. “Darius?”

I clutch at my chest, a searing white heat consuming me beyond anything I’ve felt in centuries. Something constricts in my throat, and my lungs struggle for air, each breath a desperate struggle.

“Darius, what’s happening?” Viola’s concern rattles me, and I grasp her hand, our fingers intertwining.

Viola’s eyes fill with tears as she watches in horror as I growl in pain. The heat burning within consumes my chest, slowly spreading through my veins into my limbs, igniting my body. As if suddenly struck by lightning, a torrent surges through my brain, traveling at the speed of light through my nervous system, bringing my nervous system back to life.

As the sensation of pain slowly fades, I lie still, awaiting whatever might come next.

Viola hovers over me, her face etched with concern as her eyes seek answers, her tears landing on my face. I can feel her tears—my once numb and lifeless skin senses them as they roll down my cheeks.

Then I feel it—a soft flutter deep within my chest, before my heart beats stronger with every second that passes.

Viola’s eyes widen before darting to my chest. She lowers her ear to my sternum, listening to my heart resuming its rhythm after centuries of stillness.

I place my hand on Viola’s head, feeling the soft texture of her silky hair between my fingers for the first time.

With each subsequent breath, the air fills my lungs deeper, stronger, and more satisfying than I ever remember. Viola and I lie there, both listening to the inexplicable, undeniable beating of my heart.

For a moment, panic grips me as my heart speeds up. William. I check my hold on him through his eyes—he hasn’t budged. Whatever has happened to me hasn’t stripped me of my power over him, and I exhale in relief. An exhale? I’m breathing—how am I breathing?

“This will certainly take time to get used to…” I murmur, still in disbelief.

Viola relaxes into me—whatever that was, it’s over now.

“You’re warm,” she whispers, snuggling into the crook of my neck. “What’s happened, Darius? It’s as if you’re alive?”

Viola looks up at me, resting her head on her hand. A smile tugs at her mouth, exposing those deadly fangs that make her look fiercer and more beautiful than ever before.

Then I feel something foreign, a sensation in my groin, and by the smirk that creeps up onto Viola’s lips, she feels it too.

“Definitely alive,” she giggles before kissing me.

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