Bound

Chapter 23 - Annual Gathering

Dmitri

We have just entered the suite we will be staying in. As a guest of honor, I received one of the bigger suites in a more private wing of the castle. Sky looks dumbstruck as we enter. An expression that has appeared on her face more than once since we arrived at the Garza Castillo. Named over one thousand years ago after the royal family, who still currently rules over the Vampire race.

The suite is huge. There is a large open-plan area with a four-seater dining table next to some doors which lead off onto a balcony. The balcony overlooks a large, manicured garden with various exotic plants and flowers, intermittently broken up with concrete benches and statues. An oversized three-seater brown leather couch separates the dining area into a lounge area where a huge flatscreen tv is attached to the wall. On either side of the tv are two massive doors. The door on the right leads to a walk-in closet and bathroom. The door on the left leads off into an enormous bedroom.

The bedroom is home to a large four-poster bed. Covered in the softest brown blanket, with large fluffy pillows. Thoughts of throwing Sky on the bed, tying her wrists and ankles to the bedpost, and ravishing her dripping wet core flash through my mind before I turn around and exit the room.

"I will take the couch," I say stiffly to Sky, who is just standing in the middle of the room.

"Your bags are in the walk-in closet." I indicate to the door on the right.

"I need some answers, Dmitri." She walks over to the dining room table, sits, and looks at me expectantly. I sit down opposite her.

"What is this place?" She seems calm, but I wonder what goes on below the surface.

"Garza Castillo, named after the royals who still lead the Vampire race."

I wait for a reaction. Fear, maybe hysteria. I should have told her back in Willow Falls, but I was afraid she wouldn't come and that she would call Ben instead. Selfish, I know, but I hated Ben, and I didn't even know him.

"Vampires," she repeats, her hands clasping and unclasping on the table before her. As I mentioned supernaturals to her before, I assumed she would be okay with the situation. She seemed to handle me being a Lycan better than most humans new to that info did, so I thought this would be a breeze for her.

"And what exactly is this conference about? I'm guessing this isn't a standard conference on the next big technological advancement to be released or some medical breakthrough?" Her hands gesture in the air as she speaks.

"This is the Annual Gathering of the Supernaturals. As the name suggests, top leaders from all walks of supernatural races come here to discuss any challenges faced over the last year. Treaties that need to be entered into are signed, and any dispute resolution between natural being groups is resolved. Nominated representatives from the three groups oversee the gathering. One from the werewolf race, one from the vampire race, and one from the mixed supernatural race, a grouping of minority races."

"Mixed supernaturals?" She asks, with a blank expression. She looks pretty calm, maybe way too calm.

"Witches, warlocks, fairies, the ones I mentioned to you before." I am watching her carefully. I can hear her heartbeat start to increase. Sweat droplets appear on her forehead.

"Are you all right, Skylar?" I make a move to grab her hand, but she pulls back, getting up from her chair so quickly it topples over.

"I need a minute," she says, heading to the bathroom through the door on the right. I follow her but hear the bathroom door click as she locks it behind her. The toilet seat is raised before she vomits. She gags before vomiting again. My assumption that she is handling everything just fine slowly starts faltering, leaving me feeling guilty for bringing her here and bombarding her with so much information. An hour goes by, and she still hasn't come out of the bathroom. She stopped vomiting a while ago, and I heard the shower going. Then silence.

I'm hovering outside the door, unsure of what to do. As I'm about to knock, I hear her approach the door before I hear a click signaling the door had been unlocked. She opens the door, wearing a big fluffy gown, the sleeves hanging over her hands. It's huge on her. Her hair is wet, and I can smell mint on her breath from brushing her teeth.

"Are you okay, Skylar?" I look at her, guilt ravaging me as I do.

"I'm fine. Let me get dressed, and then we can talk," she says flatly, her eyes focused on my chest. She is avoiding my gaze. It looks like she has been crying. It must have been in the shower, as I couldn't hear it.

I step out of her way as she opens her suitcase, which was placed in the walk-in closet. Leaving, I pull the door closed to give her privacy. It's nearly seven at night. There would be a get-together at eight in a large outside area on the west side of the castle, informal with snacks and drinks being served. Though now, I wasn't sure if Sky would be ready for that.

She emerges from the walk-in closet, wearing tight blue Levi jeans and a maroon sleeveless fitted top with an intricate multi-colored tree of life design on the front. This top shows a little more cleavage than I've seen on her before. Her hair is braided down her back, with some beaded locs left to fall down the side of her neck.

Her feet are clad in simple maroon sandals with woven beads on the top. Her wrists are adorned in an assortment of beaded bracelets and leather strap bracelets. She looks sexy as hell. A mixture of Viking and Bohemian. Strong and innocent. She is stunning. Maybe not in the traditional way, but her look made her sexy and mysterious. She has an aura about her that reels you in.

She avoids my gaze as she walks past me, opening the doors to the balcony before walking out and resting her elbows on the handrail of the intricate concrete railing closing the balcony in. I follow behind, imitating her position next to me.

"You must be tired of me asking this, but are you okay?" I ask, my eyes taking in her side profile.

"I'm fine, Dmitri," she sighs, then looks at me.

"You drop things on me that you should have told me before we came and expect me to be fine and dandy with it. You're not telling me about a new book that has come out. You're telling me about things I didn't even know existed. Things that change my life forever and that challenge everything I have known and believed in. You really should work on your delivery and timing because they both suck."

She looks away as I continue staring at her expressionlessly. Firstly, no one usually speaks to me like that. Secondly, she is correct, but I don't have time to be delicate. Doesn't she understand that?

"I didn't have time to tell you back at Willow Falls as we needed to leave to arrive on time. I wanted to tell you on the flight, but you fell asleep, and when you woke up, well..." I trail off, remembering the incident in the bathroom. She does, too, as I see her blush and look away.

"I'm sorry," I say, looking out towards the gardens as I feel her eyes back on me.

"I'm not used to having to be sensitive. I don't hang around with humans, so I don't often have to deal with the sensitivities your species seems plagued with. Granted, that doesn't excuse my blasé revelation of everything. You just seemed to handle the news about werewolves and Lycans so well that I thought this information would be par for the course. A misjudgment on my side. I really am sorry, Skylar."

A small smile appears on her face. Which part amusing her, I'm not exactly sure.

"You suck at apologizing, too," she chuckles. "Something tells me you don't have a lot of practice in that area."

I smile broadly. Genuinely. This woman is amazing. Instead of holding this over me for hours, acting childish as so many would, she quickly moves on.

"So, what's next on the agenda? Some sacrificial rituals that we need to watch. Maybe some witches racing on brooms?" She is laughing as she turns her body towards me.

"Not nearly as exciting," I say, smiling at her infectious mood. "A gathering in the auspicious gardens on the west side of the castle, with drinks and snacks served to the pompous horde of two hundred," her face blanches, all humor vanishing.

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