Book 1.
Eros; passion, lust and pleasure -- in other words, romantic and passionate love.
A passionate physical and emotional love based on aesthetic enjoyment; stereotype of romantic love.
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"You made me feel things I didn't believe in anymore."
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N E M E S I S M (n.) frustration, anger or aggression directed inward, toward oneself and one's way of living
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After a five hour flight journey, a change of outfit, a two drive to where the Torres yacht is and another hour and half boat journey to this small island not far from Oregon.
It's not that known and those who do know it don't know much about it; just that there's this old castle in the middle of it, out of bounds for almost everyone except a certain few. Locals even made up rumours that the castle belongs to vampires, that the island belongs to vampires and sailors often refuse to go around the island — which is all completely false of course but it's a shame considering we'd all love a Damon Salvatore.
"Right this way, Ms Torres." The old lady led the way, my heels clicking against the cold floors of the castle, Flavio and Dominic on either side of me as they walked slight behind me, but close enough that I'd feel their body heat on my back.
Oh, how I've missed this place.
The epitome of dark academia aesthetics, the fog so thick against the glass, droplets of rain dripping from it.
"You may go inside." She smiled as she opened the door to the office.
This place is awfully quiet than usual, where is everyone?
Turning back to look at Dominic, he gave me a small smile, entering the office to see the one and only troublemaker sitting in the chair in front of the headmaster.
"Mr Drakos." I smiled at the middle aged man who seemed surprised by my presence.
My gaze shifted from the man to the smartass sitting in the chair with his head low, his dark wavy hair a mess as I glared at him.
"Hello, brother." I spoke after a certain amount of uncomfortable silence, Landon guilty looking up as my expressions dropped seeing his bloody and bruised face.
"Amara." He spoke, his voice deeper than I remember, standing up and he's definitely grew a few inches, blood splattered on his white uniform shirt and tie, bloody trails of fingers on his arms and face.
"Landon?" I rushed over to him, grabbing his face as I looked up, since when is he 6'4 all of a sudden? "Who the hell did this to him?" I faced Drakos who looked tired.
"Amara, listen," Landon grabbed my wrists as he pulled my hands of his face. "I'm fine, it's not—"
"It's not his blood," Drakos told me and my eyes widened. I snapped my eyes back to Landon, guilt washing over in his dark hazel eyes as he looked down at me; a nasty bruise on his cheekbone and a busted lip.
"What-what is going on?" I asked the two to realise Drakos looking at the two men behind me.
"Is it okay if they—" Drakos eyed the two men and I rolled my eyes from impatient.
