Going through Emma’s diary brought tears again to Derek’s eyes. She had managed to capture their moments together in such a way that had made his member hard and his composure weaken with sadness and longing.
He had read of her doubts when she had found out that he was a werewolf, doubts which had centred on him discarding her when he found his mate. There were also doubts about who she really was, especially when she had been taken to the kingdom of the witches.
He had read of her thoughts on the prophecy which she thought was a myth, not a true story. He also read her thoughts on finding her old boyfriend, Daniel, who turns out to be a grandson to the white witch, and Casper, her old friend, who worked for the black witch before she had killed him.
Derek had literally felt her pain when he read her thoughts on killing Casper whom she had taken as a brother she had never had. She captured and wrote her feelings like long poems which had no option but to stick to his already broken heart. And worse, she blamed the guy’s death on him. And he couldn’t think of it any other way.
She was right. He had shattered her hopes and trust in him, had shattered her heart and had left her alone to pick the pieces. He was the reason that she had gone on a rampage and had killed the wizard she had considered a brother. He was the reason why she had left without any promise or reason to come back again. He was the reason why he might lose his sanity in his coming years if the goddess doesn’t show him mercy. He was his own doom.
Taking a deep breath, he dropped the diary to the floor close to him, and shut his eyes, cursing himself over and over again, refusing to shift the blame to the beast which was subdued inside him or to Leonarya, the black witch. His little witch’s departure was all his fault.
He knew he would go out to search for her soon, but that would be after he had settled the disturbing matters of the pack. A war was brewing and he didn’t want her caught in it, whether she was the prophecy or not.
***
Kane strolled slowly along one of the roads in the county, looking for the best place to hide and feed. His mood wasn’t the one that allowed him to stay at the brat’s house and drink, like the others, refrigerated blood which must have come from the hospitals. Though, he had to admit that the brat, Aiden, was smart.
Since he had left the house, he had been moving from one street to the other, taking in the contours and every part of the county, sometimes in a misty form, and sometimes in the physical form, making sure that he didn’t trespass into the territory of the werewolves.
Aiden had given him directions, although he wasn’t sure that he would be going there anytime soon since the group had agreed that they hadn’t seen another redhead in the pack, apart from the one who had somehow managed to get into his head. The possibility of that still amazed him.
Apart from checking out shops and houses, he had also tried to connect with the girl again but to no avail. It was like she had never been there. But he was aware that some-how she had managed to stay connected to Freya; the reason why she had been able to know that the girl hadn’t been happy with him.
Had they exchanged blood? He wondered, for that was the only way to connect two beings. Blood exchange. And that can only work if they were of the same kind. Was the girl then like them? Was she of their kind?
According to the story told by the group some hours ago, she looked and smelt like a human on the outside, but had a strength like no other. And there was the fact that she could get into their heads without much ado. It was either that was a gift or she was definitely connected somehow to Freya and his own mate.
The hunger was getting intense now, for his thoughts had consumed him so much that he had put the latter at bay. But he knew now that he couldn’t any longer. He could feel his strength abating and his throat getting dried up out of thirst and want for blood.
Quickly, he compelled two men whom he deducted to be security men of the hotel right in front of him. Beckoning on them with his mind to follow him, he moved toward the edge of the hotel which was not visible to plain sight especially at night, knowing that the two were following him.
They would be enough. He thought, before grabbing the first one whose eyes were opening and closing intermittently as if drugged, and sinking his fangs on the latter’s throat.
After he had drunk just enough not to kill the man, he dropped him and grabbed the second security man. offering no resistance since compelled, the man offered his throat, and Kane sunk his fangs and reaped the goodness of blood, dropping the man when he had his fill.
Wiping his lips with his arm, he furrowed his eyebrows as the feeling that he was being watched assailed him.
Without wasting time, he swivelled around him, but saw nothing.
Then, he looked up, his eyes catching and staying on a particular window of the hotel, from which a woman with pure red hair was looking down at him, with mouth agape. Few seconds later, he saw another woman with fiery red hair join the first woman and stare down at him, her reaction mirroring that of the first woman.
Red!
The realisation which fell on Kane with a jerking speed, caused him to drop open his mouth.
He was seeing colours again!