Chapter 13

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Serephina placed her napkin down, sighing. After they had arrived at the institute, Adelis had barely said a word to them; she obviously knew they had been caught by the media. Serephina wanted to talk to her, explain why they had been so careless, when her job was hanging in the balance. But Adelis had just frowned at her and disappeared into the staircase.

"You've barely eaten anything," Nicolas pointed out, finishing his steak. Serephina only shrugged her shoulders. She had changed out of her outfit and settled to wear comfortable sweat pants and a blue blouse her Aunt had gifted her. Nicolas hadn't changed yet, he had remained in the parlor, skimming through the books stacked on the bookshelf. She couldn't help wondering if he enjoyed reading. If there had been a book that caught his attention, a title that made him curious, just like once--every month--she allowed a title to take her on an adventure.

But as she looked at him--the way his eyes gazed borily at the food, the way his face was set into a sere calmness--she figured it didn't really mattered. Looking for things to have in common shouldn't be her goal.

I shouldn't bother. It won't make a difference.

Serephina's eyes wandered around the parlor, her hand trailing swiftly over the edge of the circular, white table. She hadn't remembered seeing this small dining table before. Serephina figured they must have brought it in while they were gone. For some reason the thought bothered her.

"You know...there's something we didn't talk today," she suddenly remembered what she had intended on talking with him earlier that morning. She knew this was a big leap--but it was one of great importance to her.

"And what would that be?" He brought his wine glass to his lips, looking at her over the rim of the glass.

"Can I see other people?" She blurted out, slightly blushing.

Nicolas choked on the wine. "What?" He reached for a napkin as he set the glass down gently. "What you mean?"

"Well is Juliet comfortable with this?"

He raised a brow, skeptical. "This what? The blood-bond?" Serephina gave a slight nod. "Yes, Juliet knows everything and she's fine with it."  Is she really? Cause I'm not. I wouldn't be if I were Juliet...

"So we're having an open relationship...?"

Nicolas blanched. "You want an open relationship?"

Serephina answered too quickly. "Yes."

Nicolas swallowed, thinking it over. Serephina started twirling the fabric of her skirt nervously. Had she crossed the line? Was it too soon?

Did she really need his approval--his permission? She had never been consulted when he began dating Juliet. Not that she wanted to.

"You can date whoever you want, butterphina." Sabrina gaped at him--truly taken by surprised. For some reason she was afraid he might have been upset or something but instead he smiled at her. Too sweet if you asked her. But she went along with it.  She returned his smile, focusing on her food and allowing the rest of the evening to go on pleasantly.

Serephina swung around, and around, the swirl of her white dress flying around her. She gazed down, her gaze narrowing. When had she changed into this white dress? Nor did she remember entering the kitchen—her house's kitchen. She recognized those peach-painted walls, the sketches of the red-skinned nymph gazing back at her. Serephina had spend years gazing into those yellow, small eyes, wondering if the nymph had been as transfixed as she had been while she had been painted upon. Her Aunt had always been dubious if she had made the right choice by purchasing them, but Serephina had never once lamented it. It held a vision of the world that was out there. The world she was denied of enjoying. The sketches always reminded her that there were mysteries and wonders for her to uncover. Just like some artist had once discovered a rare jewel sitting upon a rock in the woods. 

But what was she doing back here? Last thing she remembered was finishing dinner with Nicolas in the institutes' parlor.

Weird.

Serephina called out Nicolas' name, maybe it was because of the the blood-bond's need or because he had been the last person she had seen. She couldn't tell.

Nobody answered.

"Whats going on?" She asked out loud while she gazed towards the door. Was she really home? Serephina decided to take a step forward and as soon as she did the floor seemed to sway underneath her. She reached, gripping the polished-dark wood counter as it continued to sway to the sides like a boat. She gasped as the walls began to quiver as she took another step. Quivering led to dissolving, literally the walls began to dissolve in front of her. Everything started to dissolve from the nymph's sketch to the counter she was holding on to. She went face-fall to the swaying tiled-floor.

"What the hell is happening?" She screamed, starting to panic. The door burst open and in came strolling Great Willa, coral eyes ranking the room. They flew over Serephina like if she weren't there. Her heart was hammering in her chest, her breaths hurried.

Great Willa got down to her knees, dagger raised. "I did it. Gods, I have delivered to you. Now I lay upon your hands the Rumions. I passed the curse just like you instructed and once they deliver the child..." she grinned, such a wicked and hideous grin that gave Serephina chills. Curse?
Serephina's hands began to tremble uncontrollably, and her head ached.

Nicolas. She needed Nicolas. Needed his touch.

Serephina was suddenly gasping for air, and her eyes snapped to Great Willa. Could she see her? Feel her?

Great Willa continued looking upwards, the silver, ruby engraved dagger in her hand starting to glow. Serephina had to get out of here—now.

Get me out of here, she pleaded. She closed her eyes hard enough that they hurt. Please. Serephina could still feel the glow of the blade through her eyelids. No, no, no.

"Get me out of here," she yelled her lugs out. Whatever this was she didn't want to stay. She wanted to get back, away from Great Willa, who's eyes now turned coal black. She couldn't breath, couldn't move. She needed Nicolas.

"No, no!"

"Serephina!" Her name echoed from the walls, bouncing off. "Serephina." It was Nicolas' voice. "Wake up! Wake up!"

Serephina bolted up right, panting, eyes swollen. She was still screaming when Nicolas' hand found hers and she relaxed, letting her eyes adjust to the light in the room. Her room. She was back in her bedroom—at the institute. Good, right now she didn't feel like being back at her house.

"Serephina...look at me," Nicolas nudge her chin to look at him. Nicolas seemed to have burst into her room, seeing that the door was wide open, slammed back into the wall. He wore a blue shirt that made his chest look broader than it usually did. Serephina found herself reaching for it.

Stop.

Instead she slipped her hands up his shoulders, pulling him against her. "I was stuck," she whispered, whimpering. "I didn't even realize it was a dream."

He went still for a moment before slipping his arm around her, pulling her closer. "But it was."

"But it didn't feel like one." Nicolas only stroke her hair, shushing her as he held her close. This was the first time they were actually physically touching—well unless the hand holding counted, but to her it didn't. Because that was something that she had found herself okay with doing, but being this close to him, letting him touch her hair like this wasn't something she had ever wanted to do--well willingly. And even though she knew it was the Bloodlust talking it... kinda felt nice.

BloodlustWaar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu