She gazed into the distance, memories of the horrific massacre flooding her mind. She recalled the sorrow etched on King Draco Voltorie's face, as he arrived at the scene with his royal bodyguards.
Turning to face him, a smile graced her lips as she observed the anxious glimmer in his eyes, though he attempted to conceal it. "Based on what I witnessed, it seems unlikely that your father, King Draco Voltorie, gave the order. His grief was evident as he mourned the loss of the witches," she remarked.
"I know my father well. Even when I was just a two-year-old, the witches would visit him regularly. They held numerous meetings together. Although I never divulged this to anyone, I could glimpse their thoughts, even though I didn't fully comprehend them back then. Your ancestor, Khallesi Benneth, was particularly close to my father. They were friends, which is why I am certain he would never have harmed them. Unfortunately, the witches never believed him. Despite his attempts to reconcile by sending emissaries, they murdered them all," Damien recounted.
"One can understand why they held such deep resentment. After all, it was your kind that decimated them," Lauren defended her coven.
"Indeed, you are right. But how long must this grudge endure? It has been centuries," Damien countered.
"Until eternity, for your kind does not deserve to exist, even though, technically, you are not truly alive," a voice emerged from the darkness behind them.
Lauren and Damien turned to behold Marcel emerging from the dimly lit hallway.
"Marcel, how long have you been there?" Lauren asked, taken aback by his sudden appearance.
"Just arrived," he replied, approaching them and gently cupping Lauren's face in his hands.
"Are you alright?" he inquired, inspecting the sides of her neck for any signs of vampire bites.
"I'm fine," Lauren assured him, using her free hand to delicately remove his hands from her neck. She turned her gaze and caught Damien's expressionless stare.
Marcel observed the roses clasped in Lauren's delicate hand and the jacket she wore, pondering the nature of their relationship.
"It seems you have no regard for the truth, Marcel Bruce," Damien remarked, arching an eyebrow at him.
"The truth? What truth? The only truth known to all is that your kind is composed of monsters who kill indiscriminately for the sake of consuming blood. And that is precisely what your kingdom did to the Benneth coven centuries ago," Marcel retorted, his tone laced with scorn.
"Enough, Marcel. Why are you here?" Lauren interjected, striving to diffuse the tension that hung in the air.
"I was searching for you everywhere," Marcel replied.
"I stepped outside to get some fresh air," Lauren responded, her gaze meeting Damien's.
"You practically glued yourself to her side all evening, denying her the chance to mingle with other gentlemen. So, it should come as no surprise to see her out here,no?" Damien mocked.
"Damien," Lauren retorted sharply, gently reproaching him.
Marcel glared at Damien, his eyes full of fury at such an outrageous assumption. "I apologize if I appeared overly possessive throughout the evening," Marcel apologized sincerely to Lauren.
"No, you were not. Please disregard Damien's remarks," she assured him.
"It's a shame that the notion you have in your mind will never come to fruition. You might as well divert your attention to others," Damien sneered, once again attempting to provoke Marcel.
"Did you just invade my mind?" Marcel questioned, his anger palpable as he moved closer to Damien.
"I didn't even have to try. It was wide open, perhaps you should try closing it. It's rather embarrassing in there," Damien taunted.
Before the tension escalated further, Lauren positioned herself between the two men, stretching out her hands to stave off any further confrontation.
"That's enough, Damien. Stop it," Lauren commanded, her voice firm as she prevented the two from drawing any closer.
"I didn't do anything; he's simply angered by the truth," Damien retorted.
"You believe you stand a chance because of some prophecy?" Marcel smirked, his disbelief evident.
Damien gazed at him for a moment before flashing his signature lopsided smile. "We'll see about that," he responded to Marcel telepathically. Startled, Marcel furrowed his brow upon hearing Damien's voice echo inside his mind. He was even more astounded because Damien, who stood before him, did not move his lips to speak. 'How is that possible?' Marcel questioned internally.
Lowering himself to Lauren's level, Damien chuckled as she looked at him with an arched eyebrow, clearly annoyed. Bringing his face near her ear, her natural lavender scent enveloping him, warming his cold heart ever so slightly.
"Don't stay out here for too long," he whispered, and unexpectedly, with no warning, Damien gently pressed a kiss upon her left cheek. He lingered for a few precious seconds before pulling away, knowing that anything more would have been too much.
Winking at her, Damien left the garden, making his way back to the ballroom. Marcel stood frozen, shock and surprise evident upon his face. Lauren, calming her racing heart, turned her attention towards Marcel, realizing she had forgotten to return his suit.
"Damn it, he left his suit," she muttered, rushing back inside.
"Hey, there you are!" Chloe exclaimed as soon as she caught sight of Lauren.
"What are you wearing? And those roses, they look and smell beautiful," Ariana chimed in, approaching Lauren in curiosity. However, Lauren remained preoccupied, scanning the room for Damien's presence.
"They were here moments ago, but... it seems they've gone," Chloe informed her suspecting who she was scanning the crowd for.
"What are you wearing?" Ariana asked, already suspecting the answer but seeking confirmation.
"Damien's suit. He gave it to me in the garden. He forgot to retrieve it before leaving," Lauren explained to them.
"My, my," Ariana chuckled. "Well, it appears that's our signal to head home," she added once she spotted her mother approaching them.
-----
"Mum?" Lauren uttered, her voice carrying a hint of uncertainty, as she observed the woman who bore a striking resemblance to her mother, strolling down the bustling street. Parked at the road's edge, Lauren exited her car and swiftly crossed the street.
The hour neared 8 PM, compelling her to hasten her steps in pursuit of her mother. Lauren wondered where her mother had been at this late hour of the night. She quickened her pace even further, determined not to lose sight of her. As her mother abruptly veered left into an alley, Lauren hastened to ensure she wouldn't lose her.
Remaining a short distance away from the dimly lit alley, Lauren's ears were accosted by shrill cries that emanated from its depths. She sprinted toward the sound, only to discover her mother lying helpless on the ground, with a man looming over her.
"Step away from her," Lauren commanded, exerting authority as she retrieved her gun from her bag and leveled it at the intruder. The man raised his head from the body, responding to the unexpected noise.
"I said, move away from her. Hands in the air, and no sudden movements. Any unnecessary action will force me to shoot," Lauren declared, her voice resolute.
The man turned his face toward her, his mouth bloodied and fangs elongated, sending a chill down Lauren's spine. Strangely, his visage seemed blurred, preventing her from clearly discerning his features.
Gazing down at the woman on the ground, Lauren's heart sank at the realization that it was indeed her mother laying in a pool of blood.
"Mum!" she screamed. With a jolt, Lauren awakened from her slepp, her eyes scanning the room in confusion. She discovered herself lying in bed, realizing that everything she felt and witnessed had been a dream. Or was it? she pondered.