Pietro lay awake on the bed staring up at the ceiling. He was waiting for Demetri to let him know it was time to leave. He’d heard his friend talking with Mara somewhere downstairs but no one came to break his solitude so he remained alone in the room Mara had shown him to when they’d arrived from the airport a few hours ago.
Lying alone gave him a lot of time to think and a part of him envied his friend. To know what it felt like to find ones true mate was something most vampires could only ever aspire to. There was a certain irony in how quickly it was seeping into the vampire nation that finding a mate was something they craved. Prior to Caleb finding Rhianna, it had never been a consideration for most of them. They’d been happy living their hedonistic lifestyles.
Now everyone looked to what Caleb and Demetri had and they felt envy for what they lacked. To a lesser extent, that same envy was directed at the Romanovs and the Erikssons, but there was still a certain level of distaste about mating with Weres even if it was abating more as the years passed.
Pietro had once looked to the future, dreaming there was a mate out there waiting for him. He’d even entertained the idea that his mate would be a Were, that there was the added possibility of there being a child in his future. Now that was nothing but a pipedream.
What woman would look at him with his scarred face and body? Come to think of it, what woman would be able to deal with the emotional scars now embedded on his soul?
All of his life, he’d felt invincible, untouchable. He’d always been a strong vampire but he’d had the added weight of the friends he’d associated with, the Romanovs in particular, and more recently Demetri and Caleb, to back him up.
Those associations alone had been enough to give most vampires a reason to pause before trying any aggression towards him. The few idiots who had ignored the prominence of his inner circle were soon disabused of any grandiose ideas that they could take on Pietro de la Rios.
Despite his lazy humour and irreverent attitude, Pietro was just as much a feral animal as most of his kind. He swung to the same excesses of ferociousness and was quick to take down any enemies who crossed his path. And that had been his undoing.
His successes had led to his overconfidence and ultimately his abduction and torture. He was the architect of his own downfall and that was hard to live with.
With a sigh, he rose from the bed and walked naked across the room to stand before the long mirror standing in the corner. He’d done this countless times since he’d been left alone, viewing the healing of wounds on his body with a dispassionate eye. Most of the lesser wounds had healed completely now and his skin didn’t look as raw as it once had.
But the once flawless lines of his body were forever marred. Looking in the mirror there was no escaping that fact and it was hard for him to examine each of the jagged scars he encountered.
Tentatively, Pietro raised his hand and brushed the three ragged marks across his chest, feeling the imperfection that he now carried for life. The image of a vampire came easily to mind, Bruce, with his eyes full of hate and his talons extended.
There was insanity in the other vampire’s eyes as he’d dug his talons deep into Pietro’s body and ripped through the resisting flesh and muscle, chipping at bone as he went. The memory of the searing pain crashed through Pietro’s mind and a low groan escaped him as he relived the moment.
It had been Bruce who’d destroyed his eye too, gouging deep as Pietro had screamed like a child, fire and agony exploding in his head as the torture had gone on and on. Another groan escaped him as he raised his eyes from his chest and looked at his now black iris and the scar running from his right eye over the curve of his cheek and down to his jaw.
Another scar covered his neck down to his collar bone and he knew if he turned around he’d see the scars on his lower back and down his shoulder blade. It didn’t matter which direction he turned in, the evidence of his torture was visible. There was nowhere to hide.
And there would never be anywhere to hide again. Every single second of every day, his failure would be there for all to see. Everyone would know that his arrogance had led to him being bested by mere Younglings and in his world, that loss of reputation was everything. He would be deemed weak and a target open to all manner of slights and maybe even outright attacks despite who his friends were.
He could live with that, could work to show everyone that he was still a force to be reckoned with. What he couldn’t live with was his own feelings of failure. The memories of his screams were still too raw, reliving the blinding pain, another form of never-ending torture.
Breaking down in front of Demetri… he shuddered at the thought and wrapped his arms tightly around his body even as he felt moisture in his eyes and knew he was going to cry again. He never cried and yet now, he found tears only a moment away far too often and it was a struggle to keep them at bay.
He was an Elder, a formidable vampire and now he wept like a baby reliving the experiences of the last few days over and over as if watching a movie looping endlessly.
Pain engulfed him and Pietro sank to his knees before the mirror with his head bowed, ashamed to look at his damaged body and see the weakness that now lived in his soul. He had failed and he knew he’d never be the same again. He was damaged beyond repair and his dream of having what Caleb and Demetri had, well that was gone forever now.
If he ever had the misfortune to meet the woman that was his mate, he’d turn around and walk away so fast she wouldn’t even know that she’d been in the company of hers. He was broken and he’d never burden his mate with his weakness.
The sound of Demetri approaching broke him out of his reverie and he quickly rose and dressed. By the time his friend knocked on the door, his expression was neutral, giving no hint of his inner emotions.
“It’s time,” Demetri said, as he hovered in the open doorway, his gaze shrewd as he ran his eyes over Pietro’s face. He wasn’t the least fooled by the blank expression. Pietro didn’t want to hide out with the pack even though he was smart enough to know he was too vulnerable to avoid it. He watched silently as, without a word, his friend gathered his packed belongings and shouldered the travel bag.
Demetri allowed Pietro to precede him out of the room. Giving Pietro the lead gave him the illusion that he had some say in what was happening. They both knew that was false. Caleb had agreed with Demetri’s assessment and made it abundantly clear there was no debate on the matter. Even over the telephone, the vampire king was formidable and not one to argue with. Pietro had been given no option.