Viola
My Darius isn’t losing, but the prolonged battle unnerves me. Every passing moment increases the risk of my losing him forever, and I refuse to stand idly by and witness his demise.
Stefan’s arms hang limply by his side, blood seeping from his wounds. Desperation emanates from him—he needs blood to replenish his dwindling magic. He’d seize any opportunity for a meal, even if it were freely offered.
Without hesitating, I sink my fangs into my wrist, tearing out a chunk of flesh. As blood flows from the wound, I watch Stefan’s reaction. Catching the scent of my blood, his nostrils flare, and his eyes zero in on me.
Stefan lunges toward me, driven by the primal hunger of his beast—he’ll do anything to preserve his existence.
Kneeling before me, Stefan’s demeanor surprises me—he doesn’t ravage me like a deranged animal. Instead, he regards me with a reverence I hadn’t expected.
“Thank you, divine goddess,” he murmurs as he begins to drink from the wound on my wrist.
“No!” Darius screams desperately as he runs over.
“Wait,” I urge him through our link, and he hesitates, sensing my plea.
My heart aches at the sight of Darius’s injuries—his battered face a testament to the brutality of the fight. Feeling overwhelmed by emotion, I struggle to maintain composure.
As Stefan greedily consumes my blood, I can’t help but feel a sense of betrayal—the only being I want to touch me in this way, to consume my blood, is Darius.
“I don’t recall granting you permission to feed off me…” I say quietly.
Stefan freezes as realization dawns on him. Releasing my wrist, he looks up at me, fear flickering across his face. It must be a rare sight, seeing a being like Stefan vulnerable—he’s accustomed to holding all the power, much like William.
I observe with fascination as the consequences of his actions unfold. Stefan himself once warned me that a witch’s blood is pure poison to a Vampyre when consumed without consent.
“No! It was the elder witch; she protected you! You…” Stefan’s desperate attempt to rationalize his situation amuses me, stirring the beast within.
Seizing Stefan by the neck, I lift him off the ground. “How have you managed to survive this long being so foolish?”
Stefan’s gurgles fill the air, blood splattering my face as my tainted blood slowly poisons him from within.
“I could sense your attempts to manipulate me. You sought to make me love you, to betray Darius for your own gain,” I scoff.
Anger surges through me, channeled into my grip on Stefan’s neck. The Daemon within me yearns to speak her mind, and I not only allow her but embrace and encourage her, coaxing her out from the depths in which she resides.
“You thought you could waltz into my home and claim me as your possession. Well, Stefan van de Berg, before I let your life slip away and grant you a true death, I’ll take something else from you. Your magic will become mine.”
I surrender to my Daemon’s power, feeling her magic course through my veins. I comprehend my gift now—it became evident when I sank my teeth into William’s flesh. This is my nature, and I accept it. Not only am I immune to the Vampyre’s magic of manipulation, but I can also consume it and make it my own. Whether I make it mine temporarily or permanently, I’ll soon discover. Stefan will be my first.
“This is for what you did to Amber,” I declare, sinking my teeth into his neck and drinking.
With each gulp, my suspicions are confirmed. Stefan’s blood flows through me, carrying his intertwined magic into my being. I drink just enough to absorb his power and retract my mouth from his disgusting being.
My Daemon smiles as the life fades from his eyes.
I toss Stefan’s limp body to the ground before Darius’s feet.
“My gift to you, my love,” I announce, savoring the taste of my first Vampyre feed. “Come, drink from me, Darius. You must to heal.”
Darius collapses to his knees, falling forward. I rush to his side, cradling his head in my lap. Tears well up in my eyes as I see the damage to his face up close—his skull is practically caved in from Stefan’s attack.
My tears fall freely onto his bloody face.
“Oh, Darius,” I murmur, offering my clean wrist to his lips. “Please drink and heal yourself, my love. You have my consent—eternal consent. Please, drink.”
Darius wraps his mouth around my wrist and pierces my skin with his fangs. A tingling sensation courses through my body, igniting desire—it might be an inappropriate response at this moment, but it’s beyond my control.
As Darius drinks, I glance over at Stefan’s motionless corpse. The whites of his eyes have turned completely red, and dark veins protrude through his thin skin. Stefan is dead, truly dead, as is William.
Placing my free hand on Darius’s face, I watch him carefully. “This is it, Darius. The beginning of the rest of our lives.”
Darius takes my hand and nods. The dent in his blurry forehead begins to heal rapidly. Incredible.
“Sophie and Elliott, they’re safe in William’s office,” I whisper deliriously.
With both Darius and Stefan having drunk from me, lightheadedness creeps in, and I struggle to keep my eyes open.
“Darius… I think—” My words falter as I collapse forward, slumping over Darius.
I sense myself being lifted gently, and Darius’s warm and loving voice fills my head. “Do not worry, little mouse. I’ve got you. Rest, I’ll take care of everything from here.”
Sleep envelops me, and I drift into my favorite dream of sunshine, waves, and the sound of Elliott’s laughter as he hugs my leg.
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