17. synthetic serenities

17

synthetic serenities

Rivian

Vampires are a tortured existence. We're fragmented creatures who break apart in the light unless granted the will to survive in anything other than the dark. We have the ability to ensure damage or cause for wreckage and oftentimes, we can't control the need. I'd like to say that even if the treaty wasn’t in place, we'd maintain a pretty decent hold on our needs knowing that not everything can be subject to our cravings but what Travois just explained to me in there doesn't surprise me. And soon, others will follow suit, not caring about the rules that have been placed on us all at the cost of my father and his vapid war.

Before then, Nocturnes minded their own business and took blood in small doses from anyone they pleased, compelling them to forget they were used. But as the decades went on, they became hungrier and less cooperative to the reputation that we needed to live by to survive. And though now, there's a better control on things, my brother is right. It's our nature. We are monsters. Villains. And it goes beyond our fight with each other.

Right now, I walk the castle hallways revisiting all of the information rattling around in my brain including the talk I'd just had with a very angry Kacian. I'm glad we've established some sort of plan. That I was able to somewhat manage my chaotic siblings and explain things to my guard, but the only thing that settles in the forefront of my mind is my need for blood.

I struggled with the blood curse in my trial period, having quelled it with the marriage to Lucynda. And even when a vampire first turns, there's a blood lust that lingers, thirst of a vein to sink their teeth into. But I've controlled my needs as a vampire to focus on those of my moral desires, something that kept my mind occupied from the moment I turned eighteen. That and I needed to prove myself as one of the youngest vampires to ever become king.

I told Lucynda to wait for me at the front door, but I have to fulfill this thirst. I find myself hooking a left down the hallway instead of continuing straight, turning down toward the Blood Room. There are refrigerators on one side stocked with different types of blood, some even frozen. On the other side are vials of blood resting in warmers. Preferences are personal of course, and I know I should opt for the cold bags, but I need warm blood. It resembles the vein more and that's what I need right now.

I've never found myself to lose control of my bloodlust, other than the trial period and even then, I remained out of trouble. But I can't deny myself the need any longer and the last thing I want to do is take it from someone and risk losing myself in the process. Lucynda needs me. The Society needs me.

"I need you." I freeze in place as I hold a few warm vials in my hand.

I know who's at the door before I even turn. Troian likely leaning against the frame and studying me from behind with her arms crossed and an ankle hooked over the other.

There's silence between us for a few moments, the sound of snowflakes brushing against the trees outside is practically audible.

But then she speaks, "I am sorry for what you've gone through, Riv. I can't ima-"

"Don't," I warn her. I'm trying my best to keep it together and I've already brought up those deplorable, negative memories enough for one day. I never wanted pity. I never really even intended for anyone to know my pain. My secrets.

I always despised what I was to become, what I am. And now, it's hard to grasp that I might live through all of this with people actually on my side. Or maybe they'll hate me forever for what I've done. Time will be the only decider.

"I have watched you grow and learn, and you taught me everything I know, and I witnessed you fight for your voice even though I didn't know that that's what you were doing. I know you hate your kind. I know you believe that vampires are monsters and that you loathe the idea of love. But I want you to know that those two things will never dictate you, not in the way you think. And accepting both doesn't change who you are. You are allowed to indulge, and you are allowed to demand order in the same breath. You are allowed to fight and to lead. You're allowed to love and be loved, Rivian." Troian stops to take a breath and my hollow heart pounds in my chest. Eyes closed, gripping too tightly onto the glasses in my hand that I'm afraid they might break.

"I love you. Trav will come around. And your wife . . . she's only working with what she's been given and soon, you two will figure it out. Once we get through this, things will start to settle and we can figure out what the future looks like from there but for now, focus on the things we can control and don't deny yourself of what you really want and need. I know you're strong enough to have both and I know you will come out of this alive."

I hear her turn to walk away, my shoulders still tense from her sentiments. I'm not used to hearing words of endearment or encouragement.

"Oh, and Rivian." Troy stops in her tracks, and I can hear her breathing come in shallow. "I know she hurt you. Maybe there's an explanation. I just ask that you don't take from me what was taken from you." And then she leaves.

She's talking about her mother. And a slight twinge of guilt creeps up my throat. I think I've already decided that Ameliana is not on my list of things to take care of as of right now, rather than seeing what she knows about everything else that's going on.

But I hadn't really thought about what I will do with her if I ever see her again, wherever she may be. Whatever my thoughts would have been, I know I'm going to take Troy's words a little bit heavier this time. I know she deserves a chance to find out who her mother really is for herself.

I drop my shoulders and release the breath I was holding before palming the wall and throwing back all three vials of the crimson liquid. I feel the thick satisfaction hit the back of my tongue as I swallow down the blood, letting it soothe me and work my mind into a clearer state.

I don't feel a raging need to rip into someone's neck anymore as I focus on Troian's words and think about what she said.

I know you're strong enough to have both and I know you will come out of this alive.

Something about that statement reminds me of my mother and I smile at the notion, tossing the vials into the recycling bin and heading off toward my wife.

"Everything good?" she asks as I reach the doors. I'm a little late due to my detour but she didn't leave me, which gives me a slight appreciation for her trust in me.

She's stunning. Everything about her is a mystery yet I can read her so clearly. She's wrapped in a deep red fur coat and her wintery hair gently floats about against the wind; snowflakes melt into the silky strands as her iridescent eyes glisten like that of a frozen lake, watching me as I exit the large double doors to the castle.

A staggering devastation, my wife .

Before I speak to her, I reach for her hand and lift it to my lips, bowing my head and pressing my mouth against her soft skin. I kiss her gently, before releasing her hand and finding her eyes. She's stunned at my gesture. I can see how her eyes search frantically in mine.

She'll never know the respect she deserves just by simply being our queen, but it starts here and I will have her know her worth in and out this kingdom. She was brave for me today in the Great Hall and she didn't shy from the confrontations and the revelations that were all unveiled. She wanted in; she wanted to do her part.

I commend her for that. She might not ever forgive me for what I've done to cause her grief and her doubt in me, but I will not stop showing her how much I need her and how much I cherish her.

"Rivian?" Her lips stay parted slightly after she whispers my name, her eyes wide with wonder and her cheeks red from the cold.

"You did so good today, little one," I praise her before reaching for her hand once more to guide her away from the castle and through the path in the forest that leads to Hollow Echo Drive.

She doesn't respond as she allows me to lead her, finding that snowfall hasn't covered the path under the blanket of the trees just yet. But flurries feather down in gentle caresses as the sun hides behind light gray clouds.

"What did you need to talk to Kacian about?" she finally asks after about three minutes of silence, another six minutes before our walk through Hollows Trace is complete and we make it to the road. "I haven't seen him since…" she trails off, likely not wanting to remind herself of what she's done.

I squeeze her hand to assure her that I'm here, no matter what.

"He's fine," I assure her. "I just had to fill him in on everything."

"And what exactly is everything ?" she questions, suspecting that there's more to the story seeing as I secluded our conversation from that of the Great Hall.

"Well, it started a long time ago when I was still a teen and Kacian was still my father's Factotum. Without giving too much of his story away, something happened between a few of us here in Hollows Trace and the witches. It led to a line needing to be drawn in the so-to-speak sand that demanded for a separation between us and them."

"Did you say witches ?" she gasps, and I forget that even with everything going on, she's still not quite accustomed to all of this yet.

I nod as we work our way closer to the gate.

"Specifically, the Lunarnyx coven of witches. Usually, vampires stay out of witch business and vice versa. It goes way back in history, when the stories are told, that there were wars between our kind and eventually, a truce was called and peace prospered. It wasn't easy, but we got there," I explain to her, giving her the information that I know.

I haven't truly been alive long enough to know all there is to know about witches.

"So, what happened this time?"

I don't really know how to answer that question, though I do kind of know the answer. It's just not mine to tell, though I did play a part in it. So I decide to keep it short and cryptic. "One of us just couldn't help ourselves."

"Kacian?" I'm impressed with how quickly her assumption comes. I know they spent some time together seeing as I contracted him to be her sole guard, but I know he doesn't say much to anyone. He's been closed off since it all happened.

"There were stipulations put into place along with a boundary that we agreed to enforce. But with all magic usually comes a price to pay and a way to terminate the truce." I look down at her as she watches her own feet, likely taking in what I'm explaining to her.

I wonder if it's too much, wonder if she can handle more supernatural drama while still battling her own. But I don't doubt that she wouldn't ask if she didn't want to know.

"Like what?" she asks as we approach the gate.

I nod at the two guards hidden there in the alcoves dug into the wide brick pillars. They need a dark place to stand while they keep watch as long as the sun is out.

The castle grounds are blanketed with a cloaking spell, but if ever the guards needed to act on an intrusion of some sort in the daylight, they have about ten seconds to eliminate the threat before the sun sets them on fire.

I enter in my access code to direct the gate to open, the metal creaking as it glides open slowly. Once it's open, I lead Lucynda out to the street where I caught her staring at the castle not long ago. She didn't know I was that car, but I was captured by her curiosity. Not many people are aware of what is hidden in Hollows Trace but I allowed visibility to her because I knew it would one day be her home.

We started to walk down the road toward Mainstreet.

"For one,” I start. “The coven leader, Nathairia, swore that I would need her help one day and if I ever journeyed to claim it, the boundary would be called off and the witches would be allowed full access to us, their magic, and our kingdom once more."

"But what would a witch want with a group of vampires?" Her question is one I've thought about as well. And the answer—before everything that happened—would have been a simple one . . . nothing. Witches really only granted cloaking spells for Society grounds and any other kind of minor magic we might have needed and in turn, we left them alone. That's how it is in most cases with witches and vampires around the world.

But in this case. I know the witches will want more from us. It's only a matter of time.

"It's complicated." I decide to tell Lucynda, knowing that she'll only have more questions to my answers and in all honesty, it won't be of much relevance for now. "As it is, the witch was right and she had my day."

"What did you need her help for?" Cyn shivers slightly under her coat as the snow starts to fall a tad heavier now, almost to the street we need to be on.

I look down at my sweet sin and wonder if she knows just how far I would go to mend the hurt I've caused, how far I would go to protect her. But as I tell her my reasoning for needing the witches help, I can tell she's slightly surprised.

"You," I whisper. "I knew she was the only one who could help diminish the fires you'd set and I had hoped she'd be able to help with your condition somehow. So I sent for her. She's the one who provided the herbs, and she returned the kingdom back to its pristine order." Her eyes meet mine, my words sinking into her ears.

She swallows, maybe feeling guilt that I needed to break the boundary to save her. But I'd do it again. "So, she's pretty powerful then," she states, realizing that we're not the only creatures in the world alongside Outsiders and that there is a force more powerful than either of us . . . for the most part.

"The most powerful witch I know," I admit the truth. Nathairia is truly a force to be reckoned with, but I wonder if it ever came down to it, if she truly could stand against the curse that plagues my wife. I hope we never have to know.

"Well, what happens next? Why didn't you just ask for help from another coven?"

"I could have, but no other coven of witches could be nearly as strong as Nathairia alone is," I respond. "I knew she'd be able to do the job and part of me hoped she wanted the release of the boundary for her and her coven."

"How were you able to control the boundary? Like, what made you believe they weren't just going to disobey and . . . I don't know, kill you all?" She shrugs and I chuckle. Her curiosity intrigues me.

But she's right. They could kill us all.

"Again, it's a complicated story but in short, we were able to control their use of magic outside of their coven grounds and because I called for her help, they now have that control back."

Silence falls once more between us as we walk toward the bend of where the road splits into Mainstreet straight ahead or Whispering Pines Way off on our right.

I can see her eyes glisten with the want to continue forward. She moved to this town mainly because I forced her here but she fell in love with it all on her own and I wonder if she misses her little life above the bookstore for the weeks of normalcy I allowed her.

"You said coven grounds," she repeats as I walk her across the road. "Do they reside here in Shadow Creek?"

"Just on the other side of Whispering Pines." I nod my head in the direction where we’re headed, knowing that beyond the hills of houses and quiet neighborhoods, the coven can be found.

"Is that where you're taking me?" she asks as we get to the other side and head down the road leading into the Whispering Pines neighborhoods.

"No. I won't mess with the witches any more than I need to. And while Nathairia might come to collect for the favors she provided me, I'll wait until she does. Just know that whatever she comes for, might not be for any reason of good." I gaze into her eyes and she listens to me talk, knowing that it will be the last we talk about the witches for now.

I walk her down the road, the sun hidden behind the trees. The forest nearly identical to the ones Hollows Trace is buried in only here, there are houses and driveways hidden between.

"So then where are you taking me?" Her soft voice reaches my ears as her warm hand holds on to mine.

This feels normal if I ever knew what normal could feel like. We didn't manifest to the destination, and we're having a normal conversation—albeit the topic of witches and magic—and the snow is falling against our heads as we travel down a family-friendly, magicless neighborhood.

Simplicity.

I turn her down a private road as we venture just a little further into the hills of elegant houses and towering trees.

"Lucynda," I say her name in a sincere tone, squeezing her hand once more. "I'm going to take you to visit Valaria . . . my mother."