188 - History Will Not Repeat Itself
“Hold your peace, George.”
“Hold your peace?” George raised a brow at her. Even her use of language was starting to sound like them.
She wasn't his anymore though and he liked to think that he didn't care about whatever she was getting herself to, but that had come as a shock to him, as much as this rapidly growing baby bump.
She had always wanted a child, at least one of them was getting their heart desires.
It just didn't make sense to him how she could be happy with it, but that was none of his damn business! All he wanted to do right now was get rid of the mark on the Bloodsucker or get rid of the Bloodsucker totally.
Delice infuriated him!
“Yes. If you are such a great judge of things then you will realize that the enemy you are against is dead. Valerick is as much of a victim as we all are. For two centuries, his father and his step mother drained his soul for power. He had to kill his own father, that too at a great sacrifice.” She paused, her heart filling with guilt as she remembered the times she had been against him without knowing the full story.
“I have heard that plenty of times.” He folded his arms across his chest, with a frown on his face.
“But you seem to have never thought about it. Deeply. Every day he fights against enemies that try to drag us back into the Dark Times, of which I have ignorantly been a part of.” She said the last party quietly. “The sources of our dismay are dead and the rest that live, are merely survivors just as we are. Please, do not hate them.”
George scoffed. “The Process killed plenty. Your dear mate has his own crimes, don't try to wash him totally of his sins.” He swept his gaze over her with a glare. “It is a pity that we have come to this.”
“Give Delice a chance—”
“You cannot force me to be in love with a Bloodsucker as you are.”
“No one is forcing you to do that. I’m just saying you should give Delice a chance to be a mother to Mira. Be by her side as Mira’s father. She deserves it, they both deserve it.”
George gritted his teeth and without a word, he stormed off.
Aunt Alice rushed up the hallway shortly after.
“My baby!” Brightness flooded her face as she threw her arms around Zezi. “They won't let me see you. I searched everywhere, they told me you were dead— I—”
Zezi wiped the tears away from her face. “I’m alive, Mama.”
Aunt Alice stepped back, her eyes bulging when she noticed the baby bump. “This is growing fast.”
“I’ll have them soon.” Zezi chuckled nervously.
Aunt Alice smiled. “I guess, I will be around for more of my grandpups after all.”
Zezi noticed the box that had slipped out of Aunt Alice's hand when she had seen her earlier, it was laying on the floor. Aunt Alice rushed to pick it up. “It is a box of treatment for Delice.” Before Zezi would have a chance to ask any other question, Aunt Alice provided. “No mother should be deprived of their child. I should know better.” She flashed her a smile. “George will come around. He loves Mira and he will do what is best for her.”
Zezi smiled, tears welling up in her eyes, as she pulled her mother into an embrace.
“Thank you, mother.”
“Oh, my baby. Thank you for being alive.”
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She shouldn't be here.
She had sworn to herself that she wouldn't stay too long at the Capital; she had promised herself that her time here would be short, and that she wouldn't seek him out, afterall, staying away from him was for the best for the both of them.
But the heart’s desire was so strong to refuse, even though that said heart was no longer beating and could be considered dead before it ever even lived.
So here Irysi was, in Nicholas’ room, using the spare key he had given her at his arrival in the Capital.
He smelled like the sun, a warmess she couldn't explain. He smelt like freedom, like the wind in a flowery garden on a sunny afternoon, like a poison she shouldn't desire.
Their last time at the Province still remained fresh in her mind. She had told him of her mission to come here and marry the King since he clearly didn't seem to want his mate, she had made it clear to him that she would never be with him. It was best for them to stay apart anyways, they were a curse upon each other.
A death to the other.
Yet here she stood in his room, by the door with a bottle of healing medicine in her hand, frozen to a spot because there he was, staring at her with those eyes that always held her captive, with a bandage wrapped around his lower belly and over his shoulder, disappearing from her sight as it moved to his back.
Nicholas.
Her Nicholas.
Her death was looking right at her and all she could feel was this undeniable bond that pulled them together.
A smile played on his lips and tears filled his eyes.
“You came.”
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((Hello, lovely readers. I’m writing a new story for the Spirity Competition. If you are interested in a fast-paced romance story filled with mystery and comedy, please check out “Stealing The Alphas' Soul”. Your support will be really appreciated. Thank you.))
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