I went unconscious

[Vivian's POV]

She climbs to her feet, apparently offended by what I said. "My situation was... different."

"I'm sorry, Mom." I recommend getting up. She gives me a pitying smile, shakes her head, and turns back to face me. "No, Vivan, it's alright, we'll be ok." She responds, enveloping me in a tender embrace that I so need before letting go. "We're going to leave this pack and move somewhere else, maybe to the city's outskirts. I'm with you and your children. He'll never be able to find you or try to take your children away, somewhere. You have my word that I will keep you safe."

I nod, and Mom walks out, saying she'll go prepare my bedroom, leaving me alone in that ornate living room.

I wonder why she insists that I leave my companions behind as I look into the fire. Now that my mother was back, I felt like everything had changed. We used to be total strangers, but now we spend a lot of nights cuddling up in one another's arms and discussing issues that may end our lives. She has helped me come to terms with the fact that I have friends who genuinely care about me and who, if it meant keeping me safe, wouldn't mind losing a friend to their Alpha. I was apprehensive to bring my family along, though, even then. If it were up to me, I would remain here until my spouse has completed his work. If I could wait longer, perhaps I would. I may never meet someone as similar to them once I leave my town.

I take my phone out of my backpack and watch her move around upstairs for a little while, listening to the floors crack under her weight. I take a deep breath to gather myself and call Sebastian; his phone rings once before he picks up.

"Hello?"

"I need to inform you that I've signed the paperwork, and I have left," I say, trying not to speak too loudly.

He falls silent for a brief while. "It's helpful to know that. Tomorrow morning will see the rejection. Please arrive at my office by ten o'clock."

Like this was just another business meeting.

"That's fine, I am going to arrive at the pack hall before time," I reply in silence.

"All right," he snapped, hanging up the phone.

I hang up, my heart pounding in my chest in sync with the ominous clock on the wall. He has no regrets whatsoever about his decision. He's made my life easier, but now that he's given me more freedom, he expects me to follow his rules. I thought to myself, this isn't fair, but that's nothing new. All I want is for him to be present when I tell everyone so they will be able to accept my decision so that I won't be treated like a defenseless girl and instead like the adult I am. I notice that when I look in the mirror, I appear older than I actually am. My muscles have begun to define more than they did during my first pregnancy, and the fine creases around my eyes have become more noticeable.

Grey is starting to peek through in my hair, although not too much. Additionally, my breasts have grown to the point where I no longer need a bra. When I visualize my belly expanding, it resembles a balloon, with the flesh getting chubby and thick as it usually does. However, there is a baby growing inside of me that I'm sure will eventually make it impossible for me to be confused for anything else. Nevertheless, my tummy is really tiny. How in the world am I going to get twins? My uterus would not offer the twins' parents with a workable method of birth control, even if I did become pregnant right away.

My entire existence seems to be a fever dream. I picture myself having the ideal life with my spouse and kids. And yet here I am, alone in a house that has seen far too many of its occupants die and disappear. The smell of decay and blood fills every breath I take in this location, making me feel sick to my stomach. That blood smelt weird, however I couldn't determine if it was human or vampire because the stench wasn't nearly strong enough to carry. It's encouraging that the smell isn't overpowering and that the smell of blood isn't frequently followed with the stench of death.

What does that signify? There isn't any blood in my house, so why do I keep smelling it here? Why does death have such an unpleasant smell? Why is one of those smells greater when it's close to my husband and one of the smells in my house much stronger when it comes to him than it does to me? Where is the scent of rotting flesh and blood coming from? Why don't I feel afraid? With a sigh, I get up. I need to get rid of all this garbage in my head. I'm famished.

Hungry for food that won't kill me. I don't even enjoy the flavor of bloodlust. I moved to a cupboard and took out the biggest bottle of wine I still possessed. When I opened it, the contents had already cooled to room temperature, but I still poured some into a glass. I gulped it down and tossed the empty glass to the side. Then, like a man dying of thirst, I grabbed up the bottle from the table, unscrewed the lid, and started downing the contents. The liquid filled my stomach to the brim, passing through every vein and organ in my body and sending a searing feeling from my throat down my torso.

Then I heard the creak of an open door. I quickly froze, clutching the bottle tightly in my palm as I cautiously peered around to try to find the intruder. I looked down at my body when I saw no movement and saw that my garments were sticky and wet. I realized there was someone in here with me, and a shudder went up my spine. I had been followed home by someone! I attempted to look under the table at the intruder's feet by slowly lowering my head to the ground. I had trouble seeing them at first because everything was so dark. I noticed more and more of what I was seeing until finally I could tell apart two pairs of shoes.

I sprinted to my mother's room out of fear and grasped the handle to open it silently. I struggled for a long time to get the door to even slightly open, but when I did, I couldn't find her or anyone else. The room smelt strongly of blood, even though she wasn't there. As I cautiously made my way deeper inside the house, I noticed my mother's body lying on the ground. She had evidently passed away seconds ago, as evidenced by her closed eyes, but I knew that wasn't normal. I watched blood trickle from her wounds onto the white carpet, paralyzed by horror. I was reminded of the crimson path I had been following for years by its look. I turned away from my mother to search the surroundings for the trespasser. I'm not sure what went on after that. I felt a sudden darkness come over me and, unconsciously, my knees buckled beneath me. My eyesight started to dim, and I went unconscious.