Join the Hot Mess Express 2.0

The fact Alexia didn’t meet your eyes when you asked her what to expect for the following days is something you choose not to think about. 

You are lighting the candles in one corner of the main hall when you hear the telltale thunderous steps of the Lady descend the grand staircase, followed by her daughters. You tense a little, your breath growing a tad uneven, but you continue your task diligently, a safe distance from the massive doorway not to be noticed. You catch a few of the things they say, like Alcina’s instructions on how to answer the phone if Miranda calls and what temperature the wine cellar should be kept at. 

“Cassandra, Daniela, I need not remind you that we are understaffed.” she emphasizes. “I do not want to see that the maids’ number has dropped in my absence.” 

“Yes, mother.” they nod in unison, with one looking like she’s agreeing for the sake of getting this over with and the other gazing up at the statuesque woman like a puppy. A puppy straight out of the most chaotic pit of hell. 

“Bela, I want you to personally supervise the shipment from Duke tomorrow.” she continues, adjusting the chic fur cloak around her massive form. 

“Don’t worry, mother. I will see to it that everything is in order.” the blonde replies. 

You watch as Alcina’s key is slid into the lock and the heavy gates are opened with a mere light push of her gloved hands. Then, she turns to cast one last fond look upon her daughters. Despite all the oddities of this family, the things you know about them and how they came to be… this simple gesture gets to you. It hits your most vulnerable cord and the image gets burned into your brain. You will never unsee this. 

“Safe travels.” Bela bids. 

“We’ll miss you!” Daniela exclaims. It’s sweet, save for the fact that is not the tune she was singing yesterday, when she was jumping on her bed –and on you– going ‘yeeesssss, bless these business trips!’

The doors close behind Lady Dimitrescu. 

You count exactly five beats that pass in silence. 

“Slow and steady wins the race, mother!” Cassandra is the first to break character.

“Don’t worry about aaaanything~” Daniela sing-songs and at this point you have to feel at least a little sorry for Bela. 

Then you remind yourself the asshole stopped your escape and nearly broke your back on a table not that long ago. Every bit of suffering she endures from her sisters these days is a well-deserved slap straight from karma. You’re already feeling the score being settled as they giggle and cackle around her and all she can do is control her breathing and bring two fingers to the bridge of her nose. 

You shake your head and go about lighting the rest of the candles around. 

Or, more accurately, you try to. 

Because a wild buzzing later, you find yourself knocked forward as a familiar weight crashes onto your back. Daniela’s arms wrap around your neck and she practically demands a piggyback ride, painted lips hovering by your ear;

“How are you doing, Knight~?” 

Yeah, you sigh. It’s going to be a rough couple of days…  

–

–

On the second day, your early-evening nap is interrupted by a maid nearly breaking down your door to tell you the daughters summon you to the armory, asap. You actually have to ask for instructions as to where that even is, and your muscles grow more and more tense along the way. 

The door is left open, as if whoever is inside is waiting for you. Swallowing past the lump in your throat, you strain your ears to get an idea of what is happening on the other side, until you hear the distinct sound of Rhiannon’s and Daniela’s voices. Releasing the breath you weren’t aware you had been holding the entire walk to the armory, you rap your knuckles against the open door just to be polite, then step past the threshold. 

Alexia and Rhiannon are the first ones to catch your eye, standing next to Bela and Daniela respectively, while Cassandra examines the weapons mounted on the wall. You note that the sisters are dressed in their heavy winter gear, complete with scarfs and everything. Then you glance at the practical clothes the other humans in the room are wearing. 

“Um. Are we… going to war?” you squint. 

“I wish.” Cassandra huffs from the weapon racks. 

“We’re going hunting.” Alexia replies. 

“Who’s ‘we’?” your eyes widen, because you have a very bad feeling this includes you and– 

“We.” Daniela beams at you, gesturing around with her finger. “The temperature is at ten degrees tonight!”

“Nine.” Bela corrects under her breath. 

“Which is practically ten.” the redhead rolls her eyes dramatically. 

“Think fast.” Cassandra interjects, throwing you a hunting spear so fast you basically stop it from knocking you down rather than actually catch it mid-air. Your breathing quickens again. You just can’t catch a break with this family. 

She goes far easier on Rhiannon when she sends a crossbow and bolts her way. Lastly, she personally walks over to Alexia and hands her a leg sheath filled with throwing knives. The hazel-eyed beauty fastens them on like she’s done this a couple of times before. All the weapons are in excellent condition, sharpened and lethal.

“Alright, listen up.” the brunette begins, as if a captain emphasizing key mission points to her squad. “We will be traveling together at first, but we are still split into three teams. Our prey is a mutated coyote. You’ll know it when you see it by its crimson fur and two heads.” she explains. “My sisters and I can only chase it and hoard it to openings for you to kill, but we can’t land the final blow ourselves. That would be too easy. Your weapons have been selected based on your hunting experience to even the odds. Whoever’s girlfriend gets the kill wins and the victor picks our meals until mother returns.” 

“Whatever you do, don’t let Daniela win.” Bela huffs under her breath, as if to herself. 

“Hey, I heard that!” the youngest growls.

“Question; what happens if we don’t want to kill an innocent animal?” Rhiannon asks. 

“We knew you’d say that, so we picked this coyote for a reason. So far, it has killed over a dozen sheep!” Daniela says this like it’s a tragedy. Then, she carelessly adds “Oh, and one villager. Or was it a tourist…?” 

Rhiannon nods. “Sympathy is now depleted. We can go.”

You test the spear’s weight in your hand. Its balance is great, yet it’s also one of the heavier ones and sure as hell won’t be easy to throw. You’re used to hunting with a recurve bow, so this thing is definitely going to be a challenge for you. Alexia still has the hardest projectile to land, but you suppose she must have some experience, on top of being paired with the huntress of the family. 

“Is there any chance that thing, like… attacks us?” Rhiannon asks Bela, who smirks. 

“Try not to think about it.” she speaks, but her eyes say something closer to ‘don’t worry, I won’t let anything harm you’.

“If push comes to shove, I’ll just let Knight rescue me.” Daniela smiles dreamily. You really want to argue that it should be the other way around.

“Oh, God. How do I get into team Cassandra…?” you joke. 

“Seren!” the redhead gasps, slapping your arm lightly. 

“I like her!” the brunette laughs, ever at the expense of her sister. 

What a crazy family, you muse, watching them interact. Whatever higher power paired the people in this castle together… it had a deep sense of humor for sure. 

With a fond shake of your head, you exit the castle behind them.

–

–

The skies are filled with clouds tonight. Moonlight comes and goes in soft waves, washing over the forest cradling the village one moment and vanishing soon after. 

The remnants of winter's grip linger, with patches of snow clinging desperately to the forest floor like white freckles. A canopy of trees spans far and wide before you that seems to come alive with whispers and shadows. Being here would petrify you, if you were alone. 

But you’re not alone. You’re surrounded by the giggles and comments of the most problematic group that’s ever grown on you in your entire life. Unfortunately, you happen to be their subject of interest at this particular time. 

“Honestly, Seren, I have to hand it to you. I never thought you’d be alive under Dani’s care for more than a week.” Bela comments. 

“‘Under’ Dani’s care.” Cassandra snickers, earning a growling glare from her younger sibling. You have to admit, the brunette contests with Bela for who can be the biggest bitch at times, but you are starting to see the sexy in that. 

“I can keep my teeth out of a human if I choose to, you jerk!” the redhead snaps. 

“No, I mean it’s a wonder she hasn’t offed herself after dealing with you for more than a month.” Bela’s lip twitches upwards, as if she’s trying –and failing– to keep a straight face.

“She tried, remember? You stopped her.” Cassandra adds more fuel to the fire. 

“I definitely remember.” you interject, eyeing Bela. 

“What? I was careful not to break any of your bones.” she says. 

“Oh, that was you being careful…” you grimace.

“In all honesty, if you’re here still that means she probably was.” Rhiannon adds. 

“You didn’t feel what I felt, Rhiannon.” you shake your head. 

“Unfortunately.” she and Alexia both say simultaneously. 

You roll your eyes at them, full circle. “Maybe it sounds good on paper but there’s no way you guys would have enjoyed that.”

“You don’t know Alexia very well.” Cassandra chuckles. 

The barrage of comments continues, shifting back to bullying Daniela. The sisters push and prod at each other like lion cubs, until they end up a few ways ahead of you, three dark silhouettes atop the hill your calf muscles are protesting to climb. Life must be a lot easier when you have superhuman stamina and levitate. You think. 

Bela turns around and flashes to Rhiannon’s side to help her up, but Daniela and Cassandra are too busy throwing remarks at each other’s face to care about Alexia and you. 

The spear in your hand feels weightier now than it did before. You stop for a moment to glance at the distance you’ve covered over your shoulder… and that is when a thought strikes you. 

If I were to start running now… could I escape?

Do I even have a chance...?

You have a map of the city and its underbelly in your mind thanks to Daniela. You will no longer be running blindly. Within seconds, an entire plan forms at the forefront of your mind. With a little luck, it’s doable. You know the Dimitrescus’ shared weakness now and you know of the nitrogen conducts leading to the factory from beneath the ground. Your eyes fall to the weapon in your hand. It’s both heavy and sturdy enough to pierce through. 

All you have to do… is use Daniela’s greatest vulnerability against her. All you have to do is show her how right she was to have zero faith in humanity. 

Your fingers have gone white around the hunting spear. 

Until Alexia’s hand comes to rest over one of your own. Torn, you look into her eyes for guidance and see her subtly shaking her head no. But she doesn’t know what it means for all of you if you stay. 

You don’t have long now. The melting snow all around you is a painful reminder of that. 

“Babe, hurry it up!” Cassandra’s voice calls from atop the hill. With one last lingering look, Alexia takes a step back from you, continuing her hike. 

Seconds pass –or perhaps minutes– pass, yet you feel frozen in time. A faint buzzing is what brings you back to reality, and by the time you turn around, Daniela is landing soundlessly a few steps ahead of you. Her bi-tone eyes fix on yours for a tense moment. 

“Knight? …All good?” she asks before she extends a hand towards you.

“Yeah.” you lie with a smile as you take it. 

–

–

For the rest of the trudge through the forest, you feel numb. 

The conversation around you flies right over your head and you only actively take part in it when you absolutely have to, in order to upkeep the pretense that everything is fine. But you’re not fine. 

You didn’t run when you had the chance to. You just let it go. 

An older you wouldn’t have missed the opportunity, no matter how slim it may have looked. But the fact remains; you hesitated. Your heart wasn’t in tune with your brain, not even close. And that disparity is what gets to you the most. Because above all the reasons why you need to go, why you want to leave, at the forefront of your mind was… 

Her.

Suddenly, the Dimitrescus bristle like panthers catching the scent of blood. Sniffing the air, you see their eyes shift into a darker, primal gold. Daniela, eager and impulsive, smirks and makes to dash forward, but her sisters’ hands descending on either shoulder grab her and nail her feet to the ground before she takes off. 

“One by one. Wait your turn.” Bela reminds her, voice deep with authority. Then she grabs Rhiannon’s hand and vanishes into the darkness first. 

The other two are barely holding themselves back from going in, but, albeit seething with anticipation, they do wait for the first pair’s attempt. In calculated grace, the blonde leaves her partner at a vantage point and half-slides, half-flies down the slope, forcing the coyote to back, growling, into a moonlit patch of the uneven ground. 

Rhiannon aims… and takes her shot. 

The arrowhead flies well over a meter above the beast’s two heads, embedding itself into a tree bark. The redhead struggles to pull back the string to reload, while Bela flashes behind the coyote so it doesn’t escape. The second shot is much closer, but the creature twists to the side with uncanny agility. It’s a good thing Bela does the same.

“Nice one! That almost killed Bela!” Daniela cackles.

The prey manages to slip away into the woods and Cassandra’s seizes the opportunity to pursue. You hear only a sharp “Let’s go!” and watch as she leaps high into the trees while Alexia runs after her. 

Their paths split for a moment, long enough for one to obscure herself while the other lands powerfully in front of the creature, freezing it in its tracks. The spot isn’t as ideal as Bela made it out to be light-wise, but Alexia’s coordination with Cassandra is something to marvel at. It only takes her a split second to jump out of her hiding position, casting a knife at the coyote’s neck. Unfortunately, the beast lowers itself the slightest fraction in the nick of time and the knife grazes its ear instead. 

Black blood drips onto the soil.

A powerful, enraged roar escapes the beast, at a volume that leaves you stunned in your spot.    

Daniela, however, grabs your hand and zooms towards the next opening. If you had eaten dinner, you’re certain it wouldn’t be sitting in your stomach for much longer. 

Still, you shake yourself out of the daze and take control of the adrenaline, calculating the weight of the spear versus your own strength. Without warning, the redhead lets go of you and you immediately duck into a roll to recover from the shift in momentum. The second you’re back on your feet you draw back the spear and aim, waiting for her to back the feral animal to a place you can see. It’s not as easy as it was with her sisters. The thing is now wild from being wounded, twisting about in erratic motions. 

Hold steady. You remember what your father taught you as a little girl, when he took you to your first hunting trip. Hold your breath as you line your throw… and..

The coyote jumps towards her, foaming jaws snapping. You feel something inside you click. 

The next second, your spear cuts through the air, straight into the animal’s neck. 

Its end is instant. Soundless. No twitching, not even a whimper. Its terrifying body simply collapses onto the dirt like no more than a ragdoll and you’re left there, staring, with your heart pounding in your ears, your muscles shaking. 

Something so horrific, so deadly, felled by a single spear. Felled by you. 

What an empowering thought. Suddenly, endorphins rush you and you’re lighter than you’ve been all night. You’re grinning when Daniela beams at you and leaps all over the place like an overexcited bunny, flies buzzing in every direction, poking fun at the sour expressions her siblings are wearing. 

“Ha! Bow down in the face of superiority, you two!” she points. 

“Don’t you mean the face of stupidity?” Bela crosses her arms. 

“What was that?!” Cassandra snaps at Alexia, smacking her arm in a slap that may as well be a caress with how she measures her strength. “Getting its ear like that, were you trying to pet it from a distance?!”   

“I couldn’t see shit back there!” the other woman says while rubbing her bicep. exasperated. 

“Thank you, thank you Seren! We’re having liver for the next few days~” Daniela laughs in a way that lights up her entire face, gluing herself to your side. 

For some strange reason, although you’ve done so much more than this together, the act makes your cheeks redden. You stare at her pretty face for a brief moment and realize that her joy is infectious. Her dimples and cleft chin and her mannerisms in general… she’s probably the cutest redhead in Romania. 

Meanwhile, Bela and Cassandra share a look and a miserable sigh. 

–

–

In the early hours of the morning, you’re in Daniela’s bed, keeping her company –and keeping the bed warm– until she falls asleep. The temperature wasn’t low enough to hurt her tonight, but the humidity has crept under her skin, bringing a certain level of discomfort it always takes her a while to completely shake off.

She’s nestled against you, hugging a monster teddy to her chest, her chin resting atop its head as she reads the novel lying on your lap atop the covers. You glance down upon it a few times, cautious of its contents. Thankfully, the scenes you happen to skim through are all suspense and romantic undertones. No smut. Yet. 

Then she turns the page to the next chapter, titled; Soulmates.

The word catches your eye. It seems to hold her attention, as well, and she draws in a small, unnecessary breath. 

“What a concept, no? Two people ideally suited to one another. Meant to be.” Daniela comments in a low voice. She seems the type of soul to be enamored by the idea, but the way she spoke the words, her aura in this moment… there is a certain weight to it all. 

“I don’t know if I believe it.” But it’s much more accurate to say you don’t know if you want to. Because being your soulmate… doesn’t that automatically condemn another person to a lifetime of hurt?

“I didn’t know if I did, either. Until I saw Cassandra and Alexia together.” she replies. “There’s no other person in this world that could match my sister like she does. She just gets her, in a way not even Bela and I can, at times.” 

You can’t argue with that. You’ve seen them, around the castle and especially earlier, how seamlessly they flow. Two seemingly polar opposites that connect like magnets. 

“And it was instantaneous, too. Before Alexia was brought to the castle, Cassandra and I saw her at the village, on our way back from a hunt. I think she was chopping wood for her house or something. My sister stared for half a minute. I never saw her look that way at a human before.” she reminisces. 

“And Bela?” you ask. 

“Bela is different. Thinks differently, functions differently. No amount of beauty would ever spark her interest and make her show favoritism.” Daniela explains. “The first time she heard Rhiannon sing to the wounded in the dungeons, she told Cassandra and I not to touch the ‘songbird’, though still, it was more along the lines of owning a pet than anything else.” she says. “But the way Rhiannon protected her family later on, it shattered Bela’s defenses. She was forced to see her then and everything else was a slippery slope from there.”

Through impossible circumstances, it seems her siblings really did find their perfect matches. Hearing of how their stories unfolded, you begin to think that maybe the notion of soulmates isn’t quite so farfetched, after all. Which inadvertently makes you wonder about Daniela and yourself. 

You are aware that in almost a hundred years she hasn’t felt genuine attraction towards anyone, no matter how she may have wished to experience it. She has been open about finally feeling that spark with you, and the way her body reacts to you can’t lie, but you don’t know if there’s anything deeper than that for her. 

And you’re alarmed by the fact you want to know.

Your heart beats quicker and you’re certain she can hear it. The pages of the book in your lap aren’t turning anymore, but her eyes are still focused on it. You wonder what she’s thinking, what world she’s lost in inside her head and what your place there is, if one exists at all. 

You wonder if she considers the two of you soulmates. Fated. 

“What about us?” you question, unable to bear the weight of leaving the question unasked. Still, you voice it as casually as possible, not wanting to add to the tension already building in the air. 

Daniela shifts slightly against you. “It’s scary to define us.” she speaks lightly, but the emotion locked behind the words is anything but. 

“Why?” But you already know the answer; It’s because of you. 

“Because whatever word comes to mind… may only be true for me.” she replies and you can’t explain why it’s like a stab to the gut. 

Daniela is extremely perceptive. When she saw you hesitate tonight, you have no doubt she saw your thoughts written all over your eyes. In fact, you’re sure she has always been aware of your pressing need to leave, your plans and calculations on how to, even if the real reason why eludes her. Yet she still took you on tours around the village when you asked. She showed you all the escape routes, walked you right over the nitrogen pipelines despite knowing they could one day be used against her.  

Now it’s clear to you why.

A past version of you would have recoiled at the notion of finding comfort in a mutant. Current-you has fallen into a habit of joining her side all too easily, caressing her awake every evening, kissing her at midnight and lying in her rose-scented bed at dawn. 

Maybe it’s because she makes it so easy –two polar opposites in power balancing into something startlingly equal– with your arrangement. You give her what she wants, take what you need from her and you both have a nice time in the process. Too nice, perhaps. Dangerously so.

Enough for you to almost forget why you sought to leave in the first place.

You understand now what Alexia meant weeks back, when you asked her how she got so hooked on Cassandra in the initial stages of their relationship. It’s addicting to be given influence over a being much more powerful than you are, she said. The more dangerous, the more addicting. 

Perhaps the opposite is true for the sisters? Daniela could take whatever she wanted from you at any time, like she has done with other maids for decades. Yet her pale, slender fingers toy with your outfit or hair, rather than tug or drag or pull. She always asks, all long, batting eyelashes and slow smiles. Usually, it’s things like ‘can we reenact that scene from my book?’ and ‘Knight, will you come to bed with me?’

Tonight, one thing or another has got her going early on. You can tell because she comes to you while you’re rearranging decorations in the hallway, barely says “Hi~” and immediately leans in to kiss you, pressing herself against you in a particular,  incriminating way.

Her hands roam a little more than when she means for just one peck in greeting. “Can we go to the library?” she breathes against your lips. 

If your brain cells hadn’t long since lost the fight to your hormones, maybe you’d think twice about it. The two of you have discussed it’s not smart to initiate anything heavy before dinner, when the family is at its hungriest. Daniela herself has admitted she has more trouble controlling her thirst than the others. Yet against all reason you nod, following the redhead to her favorite chamber. 

The door shuts behind you, the space darker than the corridor with how low the fireplace is burning. Daniela sits back on the couch and pulls you over her, hands firm on your shoulders. Your first attempt to ask if she’s feeling okay is silenced by her mouth, locking over yours insistently. When your tongue slips over hers, she mewls and grips you tighter. Her fingers find yours and guide them up the valley of her breasts, to wrap around her throat. Urging you to squeeze. 

Except, you know what it does to her when you do. 

“Dani.” you whisper. With a little whine, she opens her eyes; stark, glowing amber. A darker quality in their depths that betrays the grip thirst has on her. Somehow, you’re cautious, rather than afraid. “Dinner is in one hour. Shouldn’t we wait?”

“I don’t want to wait.” Daniela complains softly. With a sultry smile bordering on feral, she arches into you. “I want it now.” She’s in a mood. She’s definitely in a mood and that automatically renders her less than fifty percent safe compared to her norm. 

Funny. A month ago you would have ran. 

“I’ll be good.” She promises, gaze locked with yours. To make her point, she allows her tensed muscles to relax, leaning fully back into the cushions, all the control surrendered to your hands.  

Can you really trust her in this state, though? You don’t know. You don’t know, but your hand is already unzipping her outfit and slipping over the black bodice beneath, so perfectly hugging her skin. Then moving lower, to the waistband of her pants and underwear. Lower still…

Daniela throws her head over the back of the couch, biting her lower lip. Her fangs dig into the skin there in a way that should be painful, but she doesn’t seem to care. “Yes…!” she encourages. 

You move into her and she moves with you, a little less controlled than what you’d previously established was a hundred percent safe. Her fingers grip your biceps when she usually doesn’t dare reach for you upon nearing her peak and you let her, even as her nails dig into your arm through the fabric of your shirt. 

Daniela shakes and shakes, coming down from her high with deep breaths. Gradually, her hold eases and her head rolls onto your shoulder. She doesn’t bother pulling the zipper of her clothes up, merely traces lazy circles on your arms, where she previously grasped. 

You draw back to look upon her, and find her irises a little clearer now, closer in color to her normal bi-tone green and blue. “Anything I can do for you in return?” she asks. 

“Well...” you begin. “I want a tour of the village.” You want all the possible escape routes from someone who knows the area, but you can’t exactly say that.  

Her full lips press together, contemplating. For a moment, you think she will ask you what for and you inwardly search for a good excuse.  

Daniela, however, doesn’t question you. 

“Okay.” she nods. “One hour after dinner.” A little smile. “Dress up nice for me.”

–

–

The temperature is merciful tonight. No biting frost snaps its jaws at you the moment you step out the massive front gates, your jacket enough to ward off any lingering chill. 

Stealing a glance at Daniela, you note that she, too, seems at ease, breathing deep and only pulling her hood over her head as an afterthought. Relief blooms in your gut like a winter flower. It gets to you –apparently more than you thought– when you see her all tensed up, miserable from the cold.

“All good?” you ask her.

The redhead, naturally, doesn’t respond with a simple yes or no. “Hmm…” Instead, a playful glint lights her eyes and she feigns a shiver, an obvious ruse to draw herself closer to you. With a small, mischievous smile, she leans into your arm, her fingers interlocking with yours. “Now we’re golden.”

The two of you begin your leisurely stroll towards the village, the path illuminated only by the soft glow of the moon and the scattered lanterns glimmering far in the distance. A few howls come from the heart of the forest, yet they don’t have the same bone-chilling effect on you they once did. 

“Bear the little doggies’ noises for a bit longer, Knight.” Daniela tells you. “All will be quiet when my sisters come out to hunt…” Her voice darkens at the end in pure satisfaction at the idea.

“Wait.” You tilt your head, peering at her profile past the hood. “Your sisters are going out tonight? And you don’t want to hunt with them?” 

From what you’ve gathered, this is a pretty big deal for them. Not for nourishment –they have finer things to drink and eat in the castle– but for the chase itself. It must appease their inner beasts. You’ve seen how irritable they get when they have to remain indoors for more than a few days.

And yet. Here she stands. 

“I’d rather be with you.” the apex predator says, so very simply. 

You feel something flicker in your chest, but choose to ignore it to be safe. Your mind refocuses on why you sought this outing in the first place and your next questions serve a purpose other than mere conversation. What is this way and that, how the village’s trading and resupplying works. 

In your head, you piece together everything she tells you –and everything she withholds– into a map of the general area. So there is an underground cave network, but it’s filled with more mutants. Still, if push comes to shove… anything is better than open spaces. 

Within the next hour, you have walked a loose perimeter of the village. Only a small portion is left, between the forest and the Beneviento estate, but Daniela’s hold immediately steers you away from it the moment you make to walk forward. 

“There’s nothing that way.” she tells you, too quickly. “Only skeletons. Ruins.” 

“Very odd ruins…” you comment.

Strange outlines peek through the pitch-black, resembling pillars and old houses split open by dark trees as if the forest quite literally ate a portion of the land up. 

“A reminder, of sorts.” Daniela stops, letting go of your hand. Her fingers flex, open and closed, in a way that would have broken yours if they were still intertwined. “Of what happens when Miranda’s word isn’t heeded.”

“So, you say…” A heavy frown settles over your brow. “She did this?”

“They did it to themselves.” She’s sharp. Cutting. Daniela doesn’t get like this, unless… 

It’s personal. 

It’s hard for you to picture what may have occurred there, though. What those people were guilty of, to have Miranda make the forest swallow them alive. Is there any reason valid enough for this haunting image of raw punishment you’re seeing? Thorns, sprouting from the ground, impaling stone and bones alike... 

“Did they really?” 

She meets your gaze, her eyes holding a mixture of sorrow and defiance. “It’s hard for you to accept, isn’t it? That humans could be at fault? So, let me tell you a story.” She starts pacing, taking a breath. “It starts with a pair of wealthy merchants, descendants of fallen royalty, who came to this village about a hundred years ago. After witnessing the locals’ immunity to many fatal diseases, as well as their long lifespans, they naturally sought the same gifts for themselves.” 

A sense of unease settles in your stomach about what’s coming, but you don’t interrupt her.

“Miranda warned them that meant never leaving the village again. It meant complete acceptance of this land’s dark god and its future influence over their bodies. Just like the villagers before them, they accepted her terms.” Daniela explains. 

As if to say nobody has any right to complain about the state of things now. I don’t know if I agree with that logic…

“The merchants were held in high regard, as model citizens. Many followed their example. But they started wanting more than what they’d been given. And back then, a surefire way to obtain more was to sacrifice a strong, healthy son or daughter to the god's Herald in exchange. They had a child for that reason alone.” 

Oh, no...

“A daughter they groomed into perfection. Not allowed to go out in fear of falling, hurting herself, ruining her beauty in any way. Not allowed to speak out of turn, or to learn skills they didn’t deem useful, or to dream.” A fang catches the faint light underneath her sneer. “Always told her purpose in life, raised to be a sacrifice. Loveless. Livestock.”

“Daniela–”

“It wasn’t uncommon. The prettier the sacrifice, the bigger the gifts. But they didn’t even have a good excuse! Like, say, poverty or terminal illnesses. No –they had everything.” she hisses. “And even when they gave her up, they still weren’t satisfied.”

You want to shut your ears and not listen to anything more, you want to erase this information from your brain to get rid of the mental images.

But. It’s never that simple. 

“This whole damn section of the village conspired to force Miranda to grant them immortality like her own.” Daniela points over her shoulder. “Let’s just say, no villager ever thought to turn against her again.” 

‘See?’ The glacial look in her eyes tells you. ‘Your precious humanity can be worse than monsters.’  

“How can you… how can you say that after what she…” –did to you. You want to say, but the words never make it past your lips, rendered mute by the thought of experiments far from humane. 

You feel sick to your stomach from everything you just heard. Unsteady, you sit back onto the nearest surface, a pile of stones that once probably served as a fountain or statue.

“…I came out the other side with a family.” she states, approaching you. 

To think of the person who experimented on her as a liberator for giving her what she never had at the end of her torment is far too many layers of fucked up to even process. And yet it’s clearer now than ever before, that everything is in the eye of the beholder, even good and evil. A hero can be a villain at the same damn time. 

But you already know that, too well.

Monsters and saviors are too close for comfort in real life. Is that why you like your books best, where everything is clearly defined…? 

“Cass and Bela would get mad at me for saying this to their faces, so I don't, but… ignorance is bliss. That's one luxury I never had.” She takes a deep breath, still refusing to glance at the ruins behind her. “I knew if I came to this place, everything would be there, waiting. Staring me right in the face. All of it.”  

“I’m sorry.” you whisper, taking her gloved hands into your own when she stands close enough. “I’m so very sorry.”

“Don’t feel sorry for her.” she speaks as if it’s debatable how much of the sad girl in that tragic story she shared with you is left in her to begin with. “That’s a different life.” her voice holds none of the earlier weight now, back to its usual, light tone. “I only told you all this because you have that same look in your eyes sometimes. The one she had.”

Lifting your gaze to her, you frown. “What look?”

“Like you’re counting down days and hours and minutes to something terrible, your whole life.” she shocks you with. “Like you never had a family, either.”

She’s not entirely wrong. And she’s not completely right, either. How much can you say? How much can you bring yourself to speak out loud? It feels as though you’ll rip apart in two just trying to explain…

“I… had a family.” You were happy. You think that you were happy, so much bone-chilling terror ago you can’t even remember their faces in detail.  

“And what happened to them?”

“They...” Your temples begin to pound like a war drum. Your heart pushes ice through your veins. “They–” You see red everywhere, your home wrecked. You see yourself, screaming, running, paying for their mistakes, for their kindness and their sin. 

Daniela’s fingers curl into yours and tug, before your tremors can get any worse.  

“Seren.” The sound of your name falling from her lips grounds you, though barely. “Breathe. The past is in the past.”

With great difficulty, you breathe out; “...If only… that were true.”

One minute you are lounging in your bed, reading an old Romanian folklore book that piqued your interest from the main library. You are absorbed in the light stories and drawings there, of wish-granting fairies and trees with wills of their own, so much that your eyes begin to droop. 

And then a strong gust of wind comes from outside. Whatever miniscule gap exists in the locking mechanism of your window allows the air to move the flimsy curtain covering it ever-so-slightly. At the same time, the very corner of your eye registers movement. A shadow; a bat, a monster, a trick of the light –it doesn’t matter. 

It sets you off like a fire alarm. 

Suddenly, you are leaping high into the air, eyes wide, frantic, you are bursting out of your room and you cannot breathe. That’s all it takes. Literally all it takes for you to fall apart; one stray little stimulus caught by your hunter senses and misinterpreted by your mind.

You’d smack straight into the opposite side of the corridor, if it wasn’t for the warm body you crash into, instead. The person unfortunate enough to be tackled into the wall manages to conceal the collision with a soft grunt. Their knees do not hit the ground when yours do. You’d apologize, if only you could find your voice. If your brain wasn’t closing in on you with thoughts of impending doom. If the roof wasn’t coming down to crush you– 

“Hey, hey. Seren, take it easy.” A familiar, smoky voice calls your name. Firm digits press at your shoulder. 

That… breaks you out of your panic mode a little. At least your body stops shaking. Surely, it’s a start. You suck deep breaths into your lungs, until you can finally look up to confirm who it is. Fine dark hair. Hazel eyes. Attractive jawline. Alexia crouches beside you so you don’t have to crane your neck up to meet her gaze. 

“Are you alright? What happened?” she asks and her calmness is infectious. 

“I–I almost fell asleep and then… I thought something outside my window moved.” God, you hate how breathless you sound. “I fucking –lost it.” 

She doesn’t say anything at first, merely lets you count inhales and exhales while her eyes scan your room. “Can’t be a Samce; they don’t normally fly this low or approach the warmer parts of the castle.” she muses, more to herself than you. “Probably just a bat.”

You nod when your heartbeat stops pounding raw pain across your chest. “Yeah. This a thing that… happens.” Not often, but it does. Not that you could ever get used to this kind of impact.

“Sorry to hear that.” Alexia's lips press together. You take her offered hand to stand on your feet again. “Do you want to join me for a while?” 

“Ah… wouldn’t want to keep you up.” you hesitate. 

“Don’t worry about that. I think I’ll wait for Cassandra to return from her hunt, anyway.” she shrugs. 

The two of you take slow, unhurried steps towards the human staff’s common room. You make sure to keep your voices down, not to disturb any of the other women sleeping as you pass by the locked doors of their chambers. Nobody wants to deal with complaining and death-glares come morning. 

At your destination, Alexia pours you both some whiskey, hands you your glass and takes a seat beside you on the couch. Unlike most people, she doesn’t feel the need to fill the silence with smalltalk. You appreciate the time she gives you to completely cool down. 

“It’s not like you, to freak out like that.” comes the comment, eventually. 

“It is, though.” It's a bitter reply, complete by taking a healthy gulp of alcohol that leaves a much-needed burn down your throat. “I’m not fearless like you.”

“I’m… what, now?” A thin eyebrow raises. “I think you’ve got the wrong person there.”

“No.” You shake your head. “The other maids talk of what you did. You were the first ever to escape. As well as the spark that improved living conditions here for the staff.” What guts that takes is beyond your comprehension. 

“I improved living conditions for myself.” Alexia corrects. “Rhiannon advocated for the rest, not me. I’m not that selfless or that good.” So she says, but you are inclined to disagree. 

“Well, anyway. You’re dating Cassandra.” There. Point made. If that doesn’t scream ‘fearless’, nothing does.  

The edge of Alexia’s mouth quirks up. “Not for lack of fear.” 

That answer, you were not expecting. It makes you shift your body towards her, the question evident in your expression. “...Really?”

“Of course. Do you know how long it took for my blood not to turn to ice, at that feral look she got in her eyes when hungry?” You never could have imagined she felt the same as you. Cassandra and she always look so comfortable together. “Before I ever spoke to her, she was the Dimitrescu I feared the most.”

“And how did you overcome that?” you animatedly ask. 

“Everything you want is on the other side of fear.” The words come out perfectly even. “Once I realized that, I could set it aside more and more. At first, it was for benefit. Then, it was for love. Until it disappeared entirely.” 

Well, that is… enlightening. 

“Everyone has phobias and traumas, Seren, whether they are aware of them or not. Trust me, the Dimitrescus are no different than us in that regard.” Indeed, you’re starting to see that. “And maybe that’s the root of the problem. Healthy relationships are hard to build between wounded people.”

Wounded...

“Whatever is haunting you, you should talk about it. In time.” And with that, she finishes her drink. “Rhiannon is best suited to these kinds of things but… you also know where to find me.”

You smile. Raise your glass to that. 

–

–

The daughters return in the ungodly hours of the morning. You hear the exact moment the heavy gates groan open from the top of the staircase, the hushed giggles that follow. Three dark, buzzing blurs make a beeline for the lit fireplace, where their figures solidify. 

Cassandra is the first to push back her hood, head turning towards her girlfriend in the same swift motion. The dim firelight brings out the inhuman gold in her eyes that much more, gleaming like a cat’s. Rich blood coats the lower half of her lips and neck, glistens like a morbid jewel on her too-pale skin. Her smile is that of a wolf’s. 

Your blood pressure rises from it, but Alexia regards her coolly, almost fondly. She’s prepared for the predator flashing in front of her face, as opposed to you, pushing backwards in pure, unrestrained reflex. But the wolf seems more and more domesticated the longer she stays there, locked in a staring competition with a human. 

What surprises you is the fact she’s not looking down on a lesser, weaker species than herself. She sees her equal. 

“Don’t you dare–” Alexia begins, but Cassandra has already pressed a bloody glove to her chin and made a point of dragging it down her neck. 

“Now you need a bath, too.” A wink. “Don’t worry if it doesn’t come right off. I’ll just have to lick hard–”

“Too much information.” Bela knocks her shoulder into her sister’s on her way up the final step in a way that's no accident. 

The low, answering growl would send most people running for the hills. Instead, the blonde ignores it, brings her hand up in a bored little wave as she passes you by. And then… the third shadow joins you, the smears on her lower face as red as her hair.  

“Hey. I thought you’d be sleeping at this hour.” Daniela says, the quiet softness of her voice dizzyingly out of place against her bloodied image. “Miss me that much?” Subtly heterochrome eyes crinkle underneath her hood.

“Let’s go with that.” You reply. 

“Well, since you’re up…” she drags the word out. “Mind drawing me a bath?” Puppy eyes. You get puppy eyes from the baby wolf of the family. 

And of course… you’re not immune to them. 

Which is why, five minutes down the line, you find yourself standing in the bathroom connected to her bedchambers, pointedly staring at the door as Daniela undresses –surely, she could do it faster?– and slips into the water behind you. You keep your mind on the decor, your back to her despite how it unnerves you, until the water has drained twice and she assures you you can look. 

Slowly, you peek with one eye over your shoulder. True to her word, the steaming bathtub is now filled with salts and bubbles, the metallic scent and hue of blood gone. Daniela is laying back amidst the foam like a princess waiting to be painted, long crimson hair sticking to the marble surface that is almost as pale as her skin. 

If you didn’t know what kind of monster she is, seeing her all relaxed here and looking up at you underneath those long lashes of hers, you’d think her a siren. Maybe she is one after all, because you approach, as if under a spell, the moment she motions you closer with a slight tilt of her chin. 

No wonder she smells so good, if this is what she bathes in every day. You wave the stray thought as soon as it forms in your head. You also make a point to keep your eyes above her collar.  

“I thought you don’t like having others around when you bathe.” you speak up, needing to steer your mind in a less intimate direction. This is the first thing you come up with, one of the first key pieces of information the older maids gave you about her. 

“Normally… no.” she admits as if also saying ‘you, I don’t mind’. “But then again I usually keep my head submerged.”

“Oh. I do that, too. The calming effect only works with cold water, though.” You’d know. You have sought out its icy embrace to numb your racing heart, your pain, your fears. Everything.

“Does it.” There’s doubt in her voice. A distant look in her eyes that makes her appear… older, for a moment. The kind that hints she’s tried this for the same reasons you have. Perhaps in a different life. 

You grimace. “The isolation part works, at least.” This is a road down loaded subjects you’re taking and it is too early –too draining– for that. You decide to steer your path in a lighter angle; “Anyway. Here I thought it was a modesty thing.” 

Daniela’s gaze shifts to yours, turning more mischievous by the millisecond and it feels oddly good that she’s back to being the little shit you know. “Modesty is not a thing~” She pushes herself forward as she says it, chest puffed out, bubbles pulled along rosy, pebbled nipples–

Until your hand shoots out and presses her back down by the shoulder. “I can see that, I believe you!” The water is scorching, but you don’t care. Your face burns more. 

Daniela giggles. 

–

–

You wait in her room while she dresses and dries her hair. Busy yourself by looking around, taking in details you missed the first time you were here. Like the blood-red rose preserved in crystalline resin she has at the corner of her desk, the scented candle on the opposite, an array of lipsticks and glosses and other girly things laid out before the vanity that bears her family crest. 

The click and soft hiss of the bathroom door make you pivot. It’s a good thing you did not take the rose into your hands to examine like you wanted, because you surely would have dropped it. 

When you brought her that black, folded nightgown, you never pictured it would hug her frame so sensually. Or that its design would purposely draw attention to her chest, or that she wouldn’t be bothered to tie it properly around her waist. 

The worst part is, none of it seems intentional, this time. Daniela is just lazily running a hand through her long hair, more focused on the pillows stacked at the head of her bed than you. She’s not even trying to be seductive and your stomach has been reduced to bits. 

Bad, bad, need to get out of here–

“Seren.” There goes your escape. “Come lay with me for a while?” Sitting up against the pillows with the covers at her middle, she pats the ample space next to her. “The bed is cold.” She’s not lying; her back is rigid, hands pressed to her biceps.

“You know, it’s really late and I do need to sleep…” you try.

“Kniiiiiight…” 

“Okay, okay, but only ten minutes!” As if the finger you hold up sets some kind of boundary in stone. 

Her bed didn’t seem so intimidatingly large last time. You pull back the covers on your corner as if they’ll bite you, then kick off your shoes and settle –with all the unbreathing fluidity of a log– half-reclining on your side, your temple resting against your fist. Daniela removes her two monster teddies from getting squished between you, sets them on her bedside table with a pat on each of their heads. 

And then… you feel her icy hands creep up your elbows. A slow sigh escapes her lips; her eyes flutter shut, head rolling closer to your shoulder.

You’re a heater for eight more minutes, that’s all you’re here for, you remind yourself over and over. But time begins to blur the closer she slides her body. Quarter… then half on top of you. 

It’s –almost– fine for as long as she’s cold. It keeps you on your toes, doesn’t allow you to sink into the royal comfort of her bed or into her. Yet… she doesn’t stay cold for long. 

Then her fingers roam up your deltoid, curl at your shoulder and her lips turn to find yours. Soft, too soft and plush, more parts lingering than kissing. Your mistake is getting greedy with what you’re given. 

You of all people know not to play with fire, but you do not stop your hand from caressing the bare skin of her stomach where her gown has pulled open. Not even when you feel the hitch in her breathing. Instead, you let your tongue take the invitation of her open mouth to tangle with hers. You miss the first alarm bell when she shifts her weight fully on the leg between hers, presses into you a bit harder, effectively pinning you down.

You don’t miss the second, when her mouth trails from the corner of yours to latch onto your pulse and too-sharp teeth graze your skin. Once. Only once. Once is enough to startle you out of your heady dream and into the danger of reality. You push at her, but she doesn’t register the force. 

“Daniela!” 

The sound of her name makes her snap back, lift herself off of you on her hands and knees. At least she does it immediately, which doesn’t necessarily set you at ease, but…

But you see how her chest is heaving and her arms are straining on either side of your head. She’s reigning her instincts back as promised, expression torn between guilty and painfully turned on. Scared that you’ll push her and run off. Scared you’ll be scared to come close again. 

And you should be. 

“I–I’m sorry.” she huffs. “I wasn’t going to bite. Just– a little mark?” she explains. “It’s the first time I feel so–” Whatever she was about to say, she doesn’t. Then she whispers, softly, “Please don’t leave me like this.”

The thing is... you don’t want to leave her like this, either.

Your own feelings shock you, yet you want to finish what you started, despite how the idea of that ‘little mark’ causes your chest to tighten. 

“Can you be good?” you whisper. 

Her eyes darken further in response. She nods. 

When you press at her shoulder and roll you both around, she puts up no resistance. And there is a startling appeal to be the one to pin her down like this, for her to allow it. To further reinforce your control, her hand carefully takes yours and guides it to her throat. 

She is being good. And she must be rewarded for it. Which is why your fingers slowly trail down her smooth skin, from her chest to her navel, then hooking into the waistband of her lacy underwear. It sticks so mesmerizingly to her legs as you slowly pull it down… 

A whimper escapes her lips the moment you touch her there. You swallow the next with your own when you press a bit further into velvet heat, establishing a rhythm between push, pull and the roll of your thumb. Daniela’s hands fly to the pillow beneath her head, gripping hard.

It’s less than two minutes later you feel how tense she is, her gasps and moans no longer muted. “Seren, Seren, I’m–”

You know she is. Her body breaks into a quaking shiver, her back arches and neck cranes. She’s beautiful and if all that is torn for you to witness this sight is a mere pillow, there won’t be enough reasons to stop you from seeking it out again in the future. 

You slowly guide her down her high, until the predatory golden glow in her eyes gives way to much gentler yellowish blue. She smiles like you’ve just discovered a new star and named it after her. Then she releases the death grip she has on whatever is left of her pillow and trails her hand down your middle. Asking for permission. For direction, too. 

After everything you’ve done, it takes only seconds for you to come apart on her fingers.

And then you get unbearably embarrassed, refusing to lift your head off her ruined pillow. She doesn’t seem bothered either way, sleepily playing with the spiky ends of your hair. Rolling, tugging. 

Way to turn a mess into an already bigger mess, you think. It’s kind of like your superpower, at this point. As if this whole situation –your whole situation– wasn’t bad enough before feelings made it to the mix. 

You are her first… and you’re about to become her first heartbreak.

Your mind begins to stress and race, until you hear her voice by your ear; “Oh, no. No, no.”

“Um…?” you lift your head cautiously. It will be easier if she regrets this. You brace yourself for it. Your heart. You can take pain and it is for the best, for everyone involved.

But Daniela is not looking at you. She’s looking at her stuffed monstrosities. 

“Babiesssss.” she tells them, then carefully slides a hand out of the covers to turn them around, so they’re facing the door. “I’m so sorry, I scarred you for life. Ugh, I’m terrible…”

You squint. Stare. 

“Seren.” She pats your nape. “You have to remind me to shield their eyes and ears next time.”

Wait.

Bubble baths and having whatever five-star meals you want prepared, at any time, are a major thing. Unrestricted access to the libraries and the back garden so you can exercise and get your much-needed dose of fresh air, also crucial. But beyond all that… what surprises you the most is that you slowly come to appreciate, just as much as the rest, the time you spend with her. 

This strange closeness, it’s… new.

Your entire life, you’ve been on the move. One village after another, never stopping at one place for more than two months, you never had friends, let alone anything more. You didn’t miss it, only because you never knew what it was like to have such a thing in the first place. But now…

You want to deny that you like it when she casually weaves her arm around your elbow as you walk together, when she leans into you, when she lays her head on your lap while reading and demands to be petted like an oversized cat. You don’t want to smile at the way she often will just sit there, pouting and complaining about her sisters, or the weather, or whatever task her mother assigned to her that she finds dreadfully boring. 

Tonight, she’s fully immersed in her book, only making the occasional comment about the plot. Well. Whatever ‘plot’ serves as an excuse for five chapters worth of porn later, you muse, glancing down at the sea of crimson sprawled across your thighs. 

“Ah, finally he tells her he’s wanted her since the beginning!” she exclaims at one point. 

You frown. “Didn’t he, like… sleep with two other girls on his journey to her?” 

Daniela pauses for a moment. “Yeah, but that was…” she gestures ‘whatever’ with her hand. “He drank and was missing her and they just reminded him of her.”

“How romantic.” you drawl through no small amount of sarcasm. 

“Shh, it’s getting to the best part.” Daniela says and you’re about ninety percent sure you do not want to know what said part entails. 

Instead, you choose to focus on the texture of her hair, slipping like silk between your calloused fingers, as well as the general warm serenity of the library. It is easy to forget your troubles in this utter calm, surrounded by books and her vanilla scent. Easy to not think, because if you do you’ll see this as what it is; a pretty illusion that just won’t last.

“Ugh, I love graphic descriptions of abs.” Daniela gives a dreamy sigh after a while. “Those that make you feel like you can actually touch them…”

Your eyes stray to the paragraph in question. Immediately, you regret it. You could certainly live your life happily without ever having read about how the protagonist’s girl is worshiping every deep line and shadowed contour of his ‘stone-hard’ abdominals. 

“Your bisexuality knows no bounds.” the comment –and the accompanying eye-roll– were supposed to sound solely in your head. Alas, you hold your breath the second you speak them out loud. 

Daniela laughs. She laughs and you try to not think about how cute she looks throwing her head further back and exposing her neck like this. 

“Hey, I simply appreciate a fit physique.” It’s the alternate way of saying ‘I drool over any and all muscle.’ “Both in books and here in the castle.”

“Do your sisters know how much you appreciate the physique of their girlfriends?” The words hold no bite to them, just harmless teasing. 

Daniela closes the book and looks up at you with a faux scandalized expression. “Me?” she gasps. When it’s clear you’re not buying it, the angel-face grows a devilish smile and imaginary horns. “Let’s just say the girlfriends know I strongly approve of my sisters’ tastes.” 

“Mhm.” you nod. 

“Naw, don’t be like that, Knight.” she turns and nuzzles into your stomach, then lifts your shirt a bit and presses a lingering kiss to its center. “I like you more.” You feel her lips move against you, cool, soft and moist as she speaks and it makes you hot on the spot. 

Then, she decides to shatter whatever is left of your innocence with a tiny, experimental drag of her tongue up your ab crack. Your breath catches in your throat. 

Slowly, she smiles to herself as she settles back into her earlier position. “Huh. The book is right, after all. This is pretty fun.”

For the remaining half an hour until she has to get up for dinner, you suffer.    

–

–

You expect Daniela to jump into you from around the corners of corridors in the evening, but you are not quite as prepared in the morning. 

So, when it happens, you reflexively bend at the waist and almost flip her over your back. Until the familiar smell of her perfume registers in your brain and allows your shoulders to loosen under the circle of her black-clad arms. You inhale through your nose. Breathe out slowly.

“Seren, Seren, look!” She seems oblivious to the heart attack she damn near caused, pointing to the window like a kid on a sugar rush. “The sun is strong today and the temperature should rise above ten degrees. It’s the perfect time to take me out on a date like you’ve always wanted~”

Your lips flatten to a line that you bite your cheek not to break into a smile. “Like I’ve always wanted.” you repeat dully.

“Isn’t it great to finally get what you’ve been waiting for?” she zooms right in front of you, grinning. “Come on, go dress up.” Her hand motions for you to hurry almost too fast for the human eye to catch. “Go, go.”

This is the whole point of your arrangement, that you both get what you want the moment you want it, therefore it’s not like you can just tell her no. The problem is, seeing her literally buzzing with eagerness to step outside, you don’t think you would deny her anything regardless. 

A warmer blouse replaces your white shirt, an ash-gray coat on top of it. You hastily pull a scarf around your neck as you descend the staircase to the main lobby, where Daniela waits by the fireplace, rolling her key around her gloved fingers. She’s dressed exactly as she was the moment you first met in the woods, which makes you pause for a moment, muse on how long ago that day seems now.

Yet it can’t have been that long… can it? For a tense moment, a sense of alarm overthrows your excitement to be outdoors.

Until she grabs your hand and pulls you towards the main gates. The carved iron is made to look much lighter than it is as she pushes it open with one finger. The chilly air that greets your cheeks with a biting kiss does wonders to cleanse your mind of worries.

The two of you walk into the forest. Daniela no doubt knows every nook and cranny like the back of her hand; the certainty of her steps inspires confidence you won’t get lost in all the thick trees and melting snow. 

“It feels so good to finally get out of the castle.” she hums, stretching her arms over her head, bathed in the sun’s golden rays. 

Judging by the skip in her step, she would be running or flying around, if not for you. Which makes you wonder why she wants you along in the first place. If anything, you only appear to be holding her back. A question you do not voice, when instead you speak up to ask:

“The sun doesn’t bother you?”

“I’m not literally a vampire, you know.” Daniela shrugs. No, she just feeds on blood, sleeps during the day and has superpowers. Your expression must betray your thoughts because she instantly adds “Well. It’s debatable. Although my sisters and I aren’t too fond of the light, the sun is also quite warm, so not all bad. Not like it hurts us in any way.”

“Not like the cold.” you state. It isn’t a question. 

She stops in her tracks. Gives you an uncharacteristically firm look underneath the shadows of her hood, one that is both cautious and a warning. “No… not like the cold.” 

You won’t lie; you’re surprised she doesn’t deny it. “Why aren’t you fond of the light, then?” you wonder aloud. “Instincts?” 

“That, too. But mostly it makes us drowsy. And our eyesight is keener in the dark. Here, it’s like a filter has been pulled in front of me that doesn’t let me see as far.” Daniela explains. 

For the next ten minutes, you continue your trudge in comfortable silence. Soon, your destination comes into view; a small waterfall surrounded by rocks and lush vegetation you never even knew existed. A grin spreads across your lips, admiring nature’s beauty at its finest. The village still hides many surprises. 

“Knew you’d appreciate this little place.” she comments lightly. For someone you’re supposed to be taking out on a date, it sure feels like the other way around.

Almost without thinking, you kneel by the running water, letting your fingertips dip into its crystalline surface. The frost bites real hard, but it must be a dream to take a bath here during the summer. 

I won’t be here come summer. Your chin lowers. If you are, then ‘here’ won’t be nearly as pretty and peaceful. You can’t stay long. Looking up at Daniela, her subtly heterochrome orbs fixed on an orange butterfly that has landed on her hand, you wonder if you can tell her why. 

“Life sure is weird.” she whispers. “Can you imagine this beauty comes from something as ugly as a caterpillar?” The butterfly flies away, but Daniela’s irises remain fixed on the spot it used to occupy. “Both are insects. And yet… nobody wants the caterpillar.”

You don’t understand what she’s really referring to –as is often the case with her– although you get the sense her sentence is deeper than a mere observation. Is she saying that beauty defines everything? 

Or… is she telling you more than that?

Daniela rubs her gloves together and walks over to you, takes a seat on a nearby rock and leaves enough room for you to join. It is only after you do that you realize she didn’t ask; you simply went to her on your own. What that says, you aren’t sure you want to know. Is it possible to be scared of something and willingly approach it at the same time?  

“So… are these mini falls special to you? Do you come here to read under the sun when it’s hot enough?” you inquire.

“No. I don’t come often anymore.” Daniela replies. “I used to find sanctuary in this place a long time ago, though. The steady sound of the water helped me focus my thoughts. For a little while, anyway.”

“Sanctuary?” you frown. From what?

“The first years, the hunger was… maddening. Inescapable frenzy. I couldn’t even think.” Her fingers curl into claws at the recollection. “It was a nightmare. Crazy.” It may be your imagination that her voice wavers. Still, to think a monster would sound so desperate to escape herself… “I have no idea how Bela got it under control as fast as she did.”

You swallow, then ask: “And Cassandra?” 

Daniela’s dark-glossed lips press together. “Cassandra’s therapy was clearing this side of the forest of most mammals.” 

“From what I gather, this spot isn’t one of happy memories. How come you brought me?” you wonder.

Daniela gives you a borderline guilty look. “Actually… it was Rhiannon’s idea. Said if I came here with you I’d like it a lot better than being on my own. That I could gradually associate it with something nice.” A shrug. “Plus it beats my sisters’ advice for a first date.” 

“And that is?” you’re feeling bold enough to ask.

“Between Bela’s extremely specific ‘just don’t be weird’ and Cassandra’s ‘shove her into the nearest empty room, go wild and call it success’... I figured this was better.” Daniela impersonates the other two perfectly and you can’t help but chuckle. 

What an oddly normal, bizarre family. you muse, perhaps with not as much venom as you would have, weeks ago. And then, another thought strikes you. Before you have time to consider whether you should voice it or not, you find yourself looking into her strangely pretty eyes, speaking. 

“You called the early days a nightmare. …what about before them?” Before the bloodthirst. Before whatever virus turned her into what she is. If she recalls that life as you believe she does, then she must surely parts of it. 

Unless the butterfly does not remember ever being a caterpillar.

But her expression tells you she does.  

“Nothing different before. Just a… never-ending nightmare.” her voice is distant as she says it. Far away, to whatever messed up reality she made up dreamworlds to escape from. 

That settles it, then. Turns out she and you have the most important thing of all in common. She knows what it’s like to live in a bad dream that keeps getting darker. She knows that it’s like to be you.