The Moonlit Desires: Bound by Blood

“What?” I glare at him, our eyes locked in a deep stare. But instead of answering, he simply smiles and shakes his head, his eyes glinting with a knowing light. He continued with what he was doing, his movements calm and deliberate, leaving me confused and curious.

I’m now sitting in Aristide’s room, surrounded by the eerie silence of the mansion. He’s helping me tend to the bruise on my leg, his gentle touch a stark contrast to the harshness of the fall I took earlier in the hallway.

At first, I hesitated, unsure if I wanted to accept his help. But Aristide’s persistent persuasion eventually won me over, and I reluctantly agreed to let him apply the ointment. After all, I wouldn’t be able to get it treated if I leave the building. Where else could I possibly get help? The thought sends a pang of desperation through me. My wolf is suppressed, unable to heal me like it normally would.

Or is it here in the vampire pack’s infirmary, a place where I’m treated like a slave and a lifetime enemy? The cold, sterile air in the room is thick with the scent of antiseptic and the distant tang of blood. Even if I fall and break my limb, none of these vampires will care about the well-being of a dog… an enemy. To them, I’m nothing but a nuisance, a threat to their power and dominance. They’ll leave me to suffer and eventually die, just like they’ve done to countless others like me.

But just then Aristide’s voice breaks into my thoughts, “The ointment will help subdue the pain,” he says, his words a gentle whisper that draws my attention and jolts me out of my bitter musings. I turn to him, my eyes narrowing slightly as I wonder what motives lie behind his actions.

Why has he been kind to me?

He gives me a gentle, genuine smile as he stands up and walks toward his dresser. Just looking at him reminds me of the one person I hate the most, yet can’t help but feel drawn to. It’s a conflicting mix of emotions that I can’t quite explain.

“Holy goodness, I can’t be thinking of Alessandro right now.” I think to myself, trying to shake off the unwanted thoughts. I stare down at my leg, focusing on the bruises to distract myself from the confusing feelings.

The ointments are neatly and carefully applied to the wounds, and I trail my finger along the edge of the bruise, my mind racing with questions. Why on earth would a vampire be nice to me? What could he possibly gain from helping an enemy like me? I rack my brain, trying to make sense of it all, but the answers remain elusive.

Does he have an ulterior motive? But he seems genuinely kind, yet I can’t shake off the doubt.

“Damnit, Emma, don’t be naive. Those vampires can be tricky,” I scold myself in my head, still staring down at the wounds.

And just then, the question that has been lingering in my mind finally slips out: “Why have you been so kind to me?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper, as I search his face for any sign of deception or hidden intentions.

He halted in his tracks, then turned to face me, his eyes locked on mine. “Because everybody deserves to be treated with kindness,” he replied calmly, his voice steady and sincere.

But for unknown reasons, I laughed, taken aback by his response, but my amusement quickly turned to a snarl. “Kindness?” I sneered, my voice laced with disdain. “Does your kind even know what that word means?” I taunted, trying to provoke him.

However, he didn’t flinch. Instead, he took a few calculated steps closer to me, his eyes never leaving mine, and replied, “It means being considerate, compassionate, and showing empathy towards others. It means having a heart of goodwill, without expecting anything in return.” His words were like a gentle rebuke, and I felt a pang of guilt for my outburst.

Though his words resonate deeply, everything he’s saying now sounds foreign to me, a painful reminder of the person I used to be. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I force them back, refusing to show weakness.

“Been considerate?” I mock, pointing at myself with a bitter laugh. “Do I look like someone who’s been shown consideration?” I shriek, my eyes blazing with anger and hurt.

He freezes, worries and anxiety etched on his face, along with a hint of suppressed pity. He opens his mouth to respond but hesitates as if searching for the right words. Finally, he sighs and says, “I don’t condone the way you or anyone else has been treated…”

“Not in support’?” I think to myself, incredulous. “Is he kidding me? This has never been heard of before.

A vampire and a werewolf friend?RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only

Suddenly, Serena’s face flashes through my mind – how she stood up for me, pushing Sofia away when she tried to slap me.

This whole situation is surreal!

“Why are they suddenly being nice to me?” I wonder. King Alessandro, of all people, didn’t even punish me when I raised my voice at him earlier. Now, Aristide is standing in front of me, holding out the ointment. “Here,” he says, his eyes met mine. I narrow my gaze, suspicion written all over my face as I look at the ointment, and then back at him, glaring fiercely.

“Look, whatever you’re all planning, bet me I won’t fall for it,” I snap, my voice dripping with threat.

He seems taken aback by my words, but upon realization, a hint of a smile plays on his lips before he replies, “I’m planning nothing.” I glare at him, distrust etched on my face.

He may appear innocent, with a warm and welcoming aura, but I’m not about to let my guard down. His charming facade isn’t enough to convince me of his good intentions.

Remember vampires can do anything to get what they want. They are the most manipulative creatures in our realm.

“I refuse to believe this,” I reply, my mind racing with doubts.

“I just wanted a friendship with you, nothing else,” he confesses, his gaze pleading for understanding. But instead, I shoot him an irritating glance, my voice firm. “Friends? We’re enemies, get that straight.”

Friend…. Why do all of them want friendship? First from Alma and now him.

Friendship with a vampire? That will be the most unfunny comedy I have ever heard.

Chuckling, Aristide shakes his head. “What makes us enemies, have we had any issues before?”

I wanted to protest but his question echoed in my mind, and I paused instantly, taken aback. He’s right; we haven’t had a personal issue before. But since birth, we’ve been conditioned to view each other as sworn enemies, destined to be at odds. I was taught to isolate myself from his kind and to be wary of their manipulative nature.

But if we’re so quick to label each other as enemies, ready to strike at any moment, then what should we do to those who betray us from within our own ranks?

Are they not the main enemy that needs to be killed?

A multitude of confused questions swirl in my mind as the image of Vincenzo and Ava flashes through my mind, refusing to fade away.

Still, in my thoughts, Aristide’s concerned voice breaks the trance once again pulling my attention, “Are you okay?” he asks, his hand waving in front of my face.

I immediately clear my throat, trying to shake off the distraction, but my thoughts remain foggy. I take the ointment from him, my hand closing around it like a lifeline.

I then turn to leave, my feet carrying me toward the door, and I can feel the silence between us speaking volumes as the weight of his gaze keeps following my every step.

I may despise Vincenzo and Ava, but that doesn’t mean I’m willing to entrust my safety to the mercy of ruthless creatures.

Those who profit from slave trading and human trafficking are no better than monsters, devoid of empathy and compassion. And to make matters worse, they’re responsible for the brutal murder of my parents.

“Emma,” Aristide suddenly calls out, but I ignore him, my hand gripping the doorknob as I prepare to leave.

“I know you hate it here so much, and I understand your reasons,” Aristide continues, but I tune him out, my focus fixed on leaving.

I’m mere seconds away from leaving his room, my hand grasping the doorknob, when instantly his next words crash over me like a tidal wave, stopping me dead in my tracks.

“I know you want to escape, and you don’t know how, but… I can help you,” he says, his voice low and calm.

The sudden offer keeps repeating in my head, a tantalizing promise that makes me spin around to face him, my heart racing with a mix of disbelief and hope. “Is he serious?” I think, looking at him.