(Chris' POV)
I wake up with a gasp of air.
I'm no longer inside of a cell, but I look up and I see clear, blue skies. I close my eyes, trying to remember how I got here. Where even am I?
"It's not a real sky. It's just a painting on the ceiling," a woman's voice tells me. My eyes shoot open once again and I practically hop out of the bed I'm in. When she tries to come closer I get off the bed on the opposite side. When I stand on my feet, I feel dizzy and have to grip onto the bed post.
"You shouldn't be standing so soon. You lost a lot of blood. You're lucky to even be alive right now," the lady says. She looks and sound familiar, but I can't remember from where. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. German accent.
I try to speak and tell her to stay the hell away from me, but no sound comes out. I reach my hand up to my neck to feel the line of stitches. What the hell is happening?!
"It's okay. Calm down, Chris, and let me explain," she says. I haven't even said anything and she's answering all my questions! The door to the room opens behind her and my heart swells when Don walks in.
"Chris," he says and runs to me. My shaky body collides into his chest and he holds me tight in his arms. My eyes tear up from finally being close to him again.
He pulls my face away from his chest to take a good look at my face, as if to make sure it's really me. I see the tears that spill out of his own eyes and wipe them away with my thumb.
My mate. My love. I have him back close to my heart. My heart no longer feels like it's walking on a tightrope. Now, his and my own heart are laying right next to each other in a garden, enjoying chocolate covered strawberries together.
"I'm so sorry I didn't stop them from hurting you. I promise they won't touch you ever again," Don tells me, kissing my cheek.
"Alright, guys. I'm happy you are now reunited with each other, but you guys are making me feel lonely," the lady says from the other side of the room. I still don't know who she is. "I didn't get a chance to introduce myself because you were freaking out and then lover boy ran in to see you," she says.
"She can read minds, so don't be freaked out," Don tells me and the lady smiles a big smile.
"The name's Sybil. Nice to meet the famous Chris. Just to let you know, there's a man hunt looking for you," she informs me. I can't even remember what happened or how I got here. The last thing I remember is being locked in a cell.
"I thought I lost you. I felt the moment you cut across your neck and I thought you were gone. I could feel you slipping away and my heart was leaving with you, but Sybil got to you just in time."
The account of events from Don helps me remember what happened. Giovanni was going to kill me, but he was going to torture me, so I decided I should give myself a quick death instead. I cut my neck and that was better than any death Giovanni would have given me.
"Let's not think about all this depressing stuff anymore. Let's go to the dining room to eat. It would be horrible to waste the food the maid cooked for us," Sybil says and Don follows her, pulling me along with him.
The house is very small and from what I see outside through the window, we're in the middle of nowhere. The house is surrounded by endless woods and I'm not sure if we're even still in New Orleans. The house also looks old and historic. Each room has its own theme.
When we enter the dining room, it has a very dark theme. The room is filled with the color scheme of red and black. It feels like a very old vampire lives here.
"I inherited this from my late great grandmother. She was very weird with designing this house. Made sure every room was like a new adventure and experience. I haven't been able to renovate yet. Haven't had the time," Sybil tells me.
Sybil does most of the conversating. I can't speak after having my throat slit and Don has never been much of a talker. She guides us to the dining table and tells us to have a seat. She sits at the head of the table and Don and I sit next to each other of the left side of the big table.
A maid comes into the room, followed by a butler rolling in a cart with plates of food on it. They didn't say anything and their faces had no emotion. They worked like robots, putting down plates of food in front of us.
"Don't be rude, guys. Say hello to our guests," Sybil tells the maid and butler. I guess she could feel my discomfort with the robotic workers.
Both of them do little bows and say hello. It just made them look more robotic. When they stood straight again, I could see the glint of white in their eyes. The same white that were in Markus' eyes the day he kidnapped Anne and I.
A shiver runs down my back as everything clicks. It has to be her. The mind controller. The one over all the rouge attacks and the huge army. I watch as a smile spreads on her face as she reads my mind and knows that I know who she is.
"You guys may go. The guests and I have to talk about our deal," I hear her say to the workers. I turn to tell Don that we have to leave this place, but I see the same white glint in his eyes and realize there's nothing I can do. She has him under her control as well.
"Why would you want to leave, Chris. I saved your life. If it weren't for me, you'd be dead. You should be grateful to me," Sybil says, in a very dark tone.
"What did you do to them," I ask her, finally finding my voice, even though my throat hurts like hell.
"I helped them the same way I helped you. I saved their lives. Now, they will forever be my grateful servants."
"I will never do anything for you. You didn't save my life. You're the reason I'm even in this mess," I yell at her, in a raspy tone. She slams her hands down on the table, catching a tantrum and standing up, moving in my direction.
Her stare for some reason forces me to stay seated in my seat. She comes right in my face and grins.
"Try to move," she commands me. I try, but I'm stuck in the same position. She laughs. "You can't, can you? That's because I already own you, whether you like it or not," she whispers into my ear.
I can feel my own mind being pushed away and her taking control of me. I try to fight her control over my mind, but it's useless because her control is addicting. Her control makes you want to shrink in submission. It's powerful and unstoppable. It's almost enjoyable.
"Stop fighting me. I can help you get your mother back. Isn't that what you want," she asks in a sweet voice. She's luring me in like a siren. I can't stop myself from saying yes and letting her control me fully.
"Yes, I want my mother." She comes closer and places a kiss on my forehead as tears slide down my face. The memories of how she died consuming me.
"It's alright. I can help you heal. We'll get her back. We have to start off with the first step," she says.
"What is it," I ask her almost desperately. She smiles, knowing that I am now fully submitted.
"A sacrifice," she whispers.