Chapter Twenty One

(Derek's POV)

I woke after an hour of comatose sleep, feeling the thirst for blood searing in my throat. The room wasn't that dark. The lampshades that perched on both ends of the headrest pooled on the bed, gleaming off Reagan's skin. Her presence alone amplified my thirst, and it took all my will power to control myself. I didn't want another repeat like the last time.

Staring at the love of my life's sleeping figure, I sighed and reached out to stroke her rosy cheek. Even in slumber, she still looked achingly beautiful, like an angel sent down from heaven to torture me with her beauty and charm.

Wow, Derek. That was so cheesy.

Not only that, I just had to chuckle softly at the irony of my thoughts. If this was torture, I would gladly take it any day, or better yet, for the rest of my immortal life.

My hand moved to her soft brown locks, stroking them languidly. It was soft and smooth, as always whenever I twirled a lock out of habit. From there, my fingers traveled cautiously to her closed eyelids, where underneath lies her sparkling light blue orbs. I willed for them to open, for her eyes were the most beautiful set of jewels that mankind has ever known. Not even the rumored templars treasure could surpass its awestruck value. These precious eyes were my most favorite asset of hers.

Why?

Because it was where I could read most of her emotions; anger, frustration, guilt, happiness, the list goes on and on. Her eyes were the most transparent that made her real, my little one.

The tips of my pointer finger edged down to the bridge of her nose, to the bump, and finally her lips. Those positively sinful lips that I badly wanted to kiss.

With these thoughts running through my head, I hadn't realized my thumb had absentmindedly caressed her bottom lip.

I was definitely treading only dangerous ground.

But, as I looked back again at her serene face, I thought, "I can have this. I know I can have this, always."

I was still scared, but the thought of not having Reagan in my life was worse. Maybe I should just take what I could get and be happy with that.

The question was, would it be enough to stay stuck in a platonic relationship?

I have to say, and I admit, for a powerful pure blood like myself, I should definitely change my family name to wuss.

Yeah, I, Derek Josef Kolinkar, was a big wuss.

I leaned down and kissed her cheek. She stirred and mumbled "I want a hamburger" and went back to dreamland.

I chuckled. She was too adorable for her own good.

Then again, I was so in love with her that it hurt.

I felt a buzz coming from my pocket. I rolled over to the edge of the bed cautiously and sat up straight. I dug my phone from my pocket and checked the readout.

Alexis.

It took me on the fourth ring to press the answer button and sighed. Here we go. "Hello?" I said.

"Derek, its Alexis," she started.

"I know. There is this thing called Caller ID."

"Was that sarcasm I hear?"

"No, just stating the obvious."

"Whatever, I called to inform you that the wedding has been moved to an earlier date. Instead of November 31st, I moved it at the end of the month, September 30th."

I was brought up short. This was getting out of hand. Why was she so eager to jump into the marriage stage without relishing the engagement? Was she in a hurry to get married? I hadn't even put an engagement ring on her damn finger.

I had enough of this. I shouldn't have agreed to this in the first place. An arranged marriage had never made anyone happy.

More importantly, I should have done this a long time ago.

With a firm final resolve, I said the words which for sure would have her and my mother hunt me down and tear me to pieces. Yet again, pardon the expression, who the hell cares?

Reagan's spunky attitude seemed to be rubbing off on me.

"Alexis, I'm sorry but I'm not going to marry you."

Now it was now her who came up short. I guess she wasn't expecting that, at all. She was speechless, but I didn't care. She needed to deal with it.

After a few moments, she finally got her voice back and might I add, a very pissed one.

"What do you mean you're not marrying me?" she said, more like growled.

I sighed. This was going to be harder than I thought.

"Marriage without passion is something that I don't want to go through for the rest of my life. Even if I would learn to love you, it won't be the same. There's a difference between loving and being in love with someone. If I were to choose, being in love is where I want to be. I can't put myself in a position of being miserable. Even if I tried, it just won't work that way."

I heard a familiar scoffing sound at the background. Was that my mother?

"Alexis, is that my mother? Am I on loudspeaker?" I said in a low dangerous tone.

"Yes and yes."

"Put her on the damn phone."

I heard shuffling and a voice came on, which had my anger rose to a boiling point. The mixture of anger and thirst was a deadly combination and by now, I could care less with what they think.

"Hello, darling."

My mother had the audacity to sound chirpy and I just had to growl out my next words.

"Don't you darling me, Helena! I had enough of your schemes and manipulation!"

I stiffened and realized that I wasn't alone in the room, so I glanced over my shoulder to see if I had woken my little one up. Fortunately, she was sleeping like a rock. I bet she could sleep through a war.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that, Derek. I'm your mother. You should treat me with respect!"

I snorted. Respect? She was obviously delirious. If she wanted to be treated with the same courtesy, she would have in turn respected my choices and decision that I had made. I snapped my head back and retaliated at my mother.

"Respect, Helena? That is the most hilarious thing I have ever heard."

This was it. My final decision. If I were to choose logic over feelings, the next words sealed the deal. I choose feelings.

"You listen good and listen closely, the wedding is off. Don't even try persuading me with your off handed tactics because if you do, you're going to regret it," I said with the most deadliest tone I had ever conjured up but like I said, I couldn't care less with what she thought about me now.

"Is that a threat, son?"

"Yes."

She was silent for a moment. It took her several seconds to process that her golden son defied his own mother. But alas, the witch finally spoke.

"You're going to regret it as well, Derek. For threatening your own mother."

At this point, I could care less.

"Goodbye, Helena."

I hanged up on her. And this time, I didn't feel any remorse nor guilt.

I felt relieved.

I glanced at Reagan one more time.

I had no idea what the future held for us, but one thing was for sure, she was definitely worth the trouble. "I love you," I whispered.

I stood up and headed for the door, where my thirst was beckoning for blood.


(Reagan's POV)

Panic drove me through the trees without direction. A single thought burnt through the flood of endorphins in my brain: get away from the man in the shadows. One look over my shoulder told me that he was darting in spastic directions, following me into the woods. From his careful progress, I knew one thing: he was driving me southward, down an ever-narrowing part of the woods. It was only a matter of time before I was cornered.

I needed to find a way to slip past him, but on this ground that was almost impossible. The willow and cottonwood breaker gave good cover, but there was too much underbrush on the ground to move quietly.

The only thing stuck on my mind was self preservation, so I ran harder. Away from my pursuer.

"You can't outrun me."

I sprinted hard, upping my speed. As I darted to a different direction, a hand caught my wrist. I was jerked back, twirling me around in the process, and faced the man who tried to end my life.

"No, Bryson. Don't do it," I pleaded.

He laughed evilly."Goodbye, Reagan."

My eyes flew open, shooting my body upright.

Another nightmare, but Bryson was in it.

My breathing was ragged, sweat creasing on my forehead.

Truth be told, that dream surprised the hell out of me. It felt real, the same one, though a different scenario that I had about Derek but the roles were reversed.

I was on the receiving end.

I glanced to my right, expecting Derek to hold me in his arms, soothing my fear away but, the spot where he laid was empty. I looked around. The drapes were pushed back, the morning light flooding in the room.

I closed my eyes and whispered his name. "Derek, where are you?"

I knew he wouldn't hear me, but I just had to say it.

All of a sudden, I felt cold, wet, strong arms embracing me tightly. "Little one, are you okay? I heard you calling my name."

I looked up to see Derek, his hair dripping and eyes filled with genuine concern."Did you have a bad dream?" he asked as he pulled away from me.

Derek had wrapped a towel around his hips, water droplets slid down his sculpted chest and arms. Oh yeah, I forgot he had advanced hearing. He must have heard me while he was taking a shower.

Damn, this was the first time I'd seen him half naked.

I surreptitiously roved my eyes to his glorious body. Those heavenly eight pack abs was in arms length, ready to be licked and feasted hungrily. Oh, this was too much to take. Out of nowhere, I giggled. God help me.

"Like what you see, my sweet?"

I blinked. Was that Derek being cocky?

My eyes darted back to his face. I didn't bother to hid my scowl because he had a sly smirk plastered on his gorgeous face. Why you little...

"O-of c-course not!" I stammered. And that would make him believe you? Smooth Reagan.

His smirk became pronounced."If you didn't, why are you stuttering? Better yet, blushing so hard?"

My hand shot to my cheeks and covered the evidence of my embarrassment."Shut up!" I said." I'm going to take a shower, if you're done using it."

He nodded."Be my guest. I'm done."

I got out of the bed and headed to the bathroom.

Derek was up to something. It was unusual for him to act playful and straightforward. Whatever it was, I needed more than will power from jumping his bones.

I think he was possessed by the cocky monster.

****************************

"So, dad's here already?" I asked as we rode on the elevator, heading for the roof top.

He nodded and smiled. He looked good in casual wear; faded denim jeans, a simple white v-neck shirt and sneakers. The thought of him wearing that kind of footwear hadn't sunk in. I was used to seeing him with designer clothes and shoes, but this casual look brought out the young side of him. The playful and carefree side. "Yeah, I called him while you were taking a shower. He will meet us at the roof top garden to have breakfast," he said.

As if on cue, my stomach growled. Darn.

Cooper chuckled. "The beast has spoken."

I shot him a playful glare. "Shut up, doofus. I can't help if I'm hungry."

He grinned. "But you love this doofus."

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at his immaturity.

The elevator dinged as we reached our stop. The doors flew open and we filed out and headed towards our destination.

It took us a full 10 minutes to get there, seeing Cooper insisted on leading the way. He was acting like a caveman, pounding on his chest, implying that he was the Alpha male stating an idiotic fact that we should follow him.

Derek had enough of his immaturity. Much to Cooper's stupid attempt to protest, seeing his all knowing best friend was irritated, he said and I quote, "Stop being a dumb ass or we'll die from starvation." His words, not mine.

As we entered the roof top, I was stunned, awed by its splendor.

It had a perfect view of Acropolis, Syntagma Square and the ancient wonders of Athens. It wasn't your typical classy and stuck up restaurant. Bright colored pillows were scattered around on each chair for comfort and style. The tables were covered in white tablecloths, and in the middle was an antique looking candle holder, intended for night time dining.

It was indeed beautiful.

At the far end of the room, I saw a familiar man stood up and headed toward us.

My dad, Luke.

But he wasn't alone.

There was a man sitting at the table where my father had left. He had long, dark brown hair that fell to his shoulders. His eyes were light blue, very similar to dad's and mine, with sharp cheekbones and strong jawline. His lips were shut in a thin line, accompanied by a grim expression on his face. I think this guy had a stick stuck in his butt.

But of most of all, he was pale. Pure blood pale.

My attention was diverted back to dad. He stopped on his stride and gave me a big smile. "Hello, sweetheart. How are you?"

I smiled shyly. How was I supposed to act around my biological father? It was awkward and I haven't seen him - thanks to my mother - for 17 years, and this was our second meeting.

"I'm fine, thank you very much," I said nervously.

He chuckled and spread his arms wide open, inviting me for a hug. "Come here, sugar bunny. Give daddy a big hug."

I just had to laugh. Sugar bunny? His term of endearment was funny and had me loosened up a bit. I thought maybe this was my first step in having some sort of familial connection, so without hesitation, I jumped into his arms and snuggled into his neck. He smelled nice. Musky with a hint of lavender.

"I've been waiting all my life to hug my daughter," he murmured into my hair as he stroked the back of my head lovingly.

I wanted to cry. It felt good to be in my father's arms. In my years in living with my mother, I never experienced this tender moment, an affection that a child needed from their parent. I was physically abused, maimed, and damaged. This was a new territory for me, foreign, yet I wanted this. I needed my father. I needed him to tell me that everything was going to be alright. "Thank you for finding me," I said, sniffling.

He chuckled in a low baritone. "You're my daughter. I had to find you."

I pulled back and swiped a tear that spilled out of my eyes with my hands. "Will you stay with me this time?" I asked in a small voice. I couldn't believe that unrecognizable voice belonged to me. It sounded so vulnerable and truth be told, it made me feel scared.

He smiled warmly. "As long as you want me to."

"I want you to," I said back fiercely.

He chuckled and ruffled my hair with his free hand, the other was still holding my own. He had no intention of letting go. "Then I'm staying."

I slanted my body and saw Cooper clutching his heart. "Aww! That was so sweet," he wasn't mocking though. He was genuinely happy for me.

I rolled my eyes and tugged my dad's hand, leading him to Cooper. "Dad, I would like you to meet Cooper, my sidekick."

He shot me playful glare. "Hey! I am not your sidekick. You are," he said and averted his gaze to my father. "I'm sorry, sir. Reagan tends to exaggerate. You must be Reagan's infamous dad," he extended his hand as a sign of a prompting handshake.

My dad chuckled. He gripped his hand and smiled. "Yes, my name is Luke. Reagan's charming and elusive father."

Oh, dear lord. I think my dad was a Cooper in the making. I could feel it in my bones. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. I'm hungry, so let's eat."

I tugged on my dad's hand, feeling like a child as I lead him to the table, but I didn't forget to grab onto Derek's hand on the way. This was crazy, and I just couldn't wipe the smile off my face.

As we approached the table, the stranger dude stood up and smiled, well, more like a grimace. "Hello. You must be Reagan," he said in his velvety voice.

I frowned. The tone of his voice was in contrast to his daunting features. It was soft, similar to a 'take me now and screw me' tone. Sexier even, but surprisingly odd for him.

I didn't know what to say, but Derek came to the rescue. "Let's sit down first and order something to eat."

We all agreed. Cooper sat next to stranger dude who was across from me. Derek sat on my left while my dad sat to my right. Derek called for the waiter who was stationed near the bar. He walked over and took our order. Derek took the liberty in choosing The Breakfast Special; french toast, eggs, sausages, bacon and orange juice.

Once everything was done, the waiter left.

My dad started, clearing his throat. "Um, I would like you all to meet Ryder. He used to be a Galerian."

I frowned. Used to? Why the past tense?

"What do you mean, used to?" I asked.

My dad looked bothered. He seemingly wasn't anticipating this kind of conversation, but I had a feeling this was important, so I kept my ears peeled.

"There are some things that you need to know when you turn 18 honey, since your birthday is next week. It's a pressing matter, and we need to discuss this. And honestly, I don't know that this would actually happen. My knowledge in Galerian history is limited, so maybe Ryder can help you understand more," he said.

Wow. My birthday is next week? I hadn't realized that time flew by so quickly. So much had happened in the last few weeks, and my birthday was the least of my problems."Okay, what is it then?" I asked, tilting my head to the side.

It wasn't dad who answered my question, it was Ryder. "As a Galerian, you were given a choice when you transformed fully. The choice between to feed on blood or not, since we are part vampire, part human, and part Alerian."

I already know the part where Galerians had to make a choice, but what does that have to do with everything? And most especially, him? "I already know that," I muttered dryly.

His grim expression deepened, clearly not pleased with me. "However, in the course of being a Galerian, it's not a sealed guarantee that you will stay pure and true. This fact had lead me to where I am now, a few weeks after I turned 18."

I dreaded where this was heading. "And what would that be?" I asked slowly.

He didn't reply for a full minute. He was gauging if he should tell me or not, but his eyes held a glint that he needed to tell me. Whether it would be a good thing for me or bad, I had to know, and this was something that involves my transformation, or worst, the aftermath of it.

Finally, he spoke, but it was ominous.

"That lead me to be a Pureblood Galerian."