Chapter 19: The Gathering Silence

Ash was aimlessly walking the dark halls of the covens lair. He hadn't been down here in a while, Maximus hadn't needed him and Amara had been watching him closely. Like a mother, when she suspects her child is hiding something from her.

"How nice of you to join us tonight" Amara eyed Alistair as he made his way over to her. She was sitting on a chaise lounge, her knees bent and her dress skirt flowing around her, just her toes were visible. In her hand was a goblet of what Ash could only assume was blood. Contrary to belief, vampires dont always need blood to survive. The older the vampire the feedings become less. Ash could go some time without a feeding, which is why he was at the lair today. He had been caught up in this whirlwind of Tessa that he hadn't really felt the need to fed.

"Hello mother, nice to see you as well." He sarcastically said. Amara narrowed her eyes at him, disliking the name mother. He chuckled at her reaction and sat next to her. She placed her feet down and handed him a cup. He greedily drank, letting the rich, honeyed taste flood his senses. The blood was unmistakably fresh—its sweetness hinted at innocence, untouched by cruelty or malice. Ash had long learned how to read the essence of a person through their blood; the more wicked they were, the thicker and more acrid it became. Tonight's offering was light, almost delicate, a stark contrast to the dark world he lived in.

"You've been quiet Alistair. Where have you been the past 2 months?" She stared at him. Waiting for an answer. He slowly leaned back and stretched his legs out in front of him. He knew he had to tell someone, he just didn't know if he could tell her here. He drank the rest of his cup, got up and held his hand out to her. Amara eyed him warily and took his hand, they walked out of the lair and headed towards the bay. Walks were a frequent thing they did, even after their night with the hunter. Alistair always made time to take walks with her, to reflect on life and talk about the future. He stared off to the water, the moon reflecting on the small ripple waves created by the wind. At this time of night they never had boats sail thru here, most were tourists during the day visiting the shops.

"I've met someone. Her name is Tessa. She's everything Amara. What I have been looking for, that same pull that I had with Lucille." He let his words sink in before he dropped the bomb. "She's human..." Amara’s sharp intake of breath cut through the night air. "If Maximus finds out…"

Ash held her gaze but said nothing. The silence stretched between them, the weight of it pressing against his chest. Finally, Alistair spoke again, his voice lower now, more urgent.

"He won't."

She wanted to believe it. She had to believe it. But deep down, she knew what Maximus was capable of. The moonlight traced the tension in her clenched fists, an unspoken fear sitting between them.

"If Maximus finds out he'll do everything to destroy this relationship, even kill. Maximus stance on humans is as feeders and nothing more, you know this Ash." Amara’s nose was flaring, her breathing rapid but controlled. She so desperately wanted Ash to be happy, but the cost of life was worth more than a few stolen kisses. She couldn't bare the thought of losing Alistair and she couldn't fanthom what another lost love would do to him.

She grabbed his hands and held on to them for dear life. "He can't find out, he must never find out Alistair. I want you to be happy, but I can't lose you either. Just the thought of what he could do fills me with dread. Please be careful Alistair." Her eyes misted, her heart ached with the thought of something terrible to come. She loved Alistair dearly, he was her companion through the mayham, he was like a younger brother to her. But she also knew that Alistair never stopped living like a human nor thinking like one, he wanted to be loved, he wanted to feel like he belonged somewhere. Who was she to stop him from being happy? He pulled her in for a hug, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

"Will you come with me to meet her? You don't have too, but I would like for you to meet her." His eyes were hopeful, this woman was important to him she could tell. In all the years that they had known each other, Alistair never took a lover, even when the female vampires would throw themselves at him. He always declined. He always rejected. She nodded in agreement and his smile was as bright as the sun. The pit of her stomach ached, she had a bad feeling, something wasn't right.

They walked back towards town, the breeze crisp, making her shiver a bit. Alistair was animated, talking lively about his plans with Tessa. He wanted her in his life forever, to love and cherish, until she grew old. "Would you turn her?" Alistair missed a step at her question, the thought hadn't crossed his mind, they had never really spoken about the future. Would she want to become a creature of the night for him? "Only if she asked me too." He would not push his lifestyle on her, to become a night dweller, to crave blood and power like most fledglings. He would love her until the day she died, human or not. They made it to Tessa's apartment, he hadn't let her know that he was bringing Amara. But he knew Tessa wouldn't mind, she would welcome Amara like a friend.

The door flew open, and before Amara could blink, Tessa was in Ash's arms, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping her grounded. He gripped her tightly, hands trailing down her back before squeezing her with a possessiveness that made Amara shift uncomfortably. She cleared her throat. The couple pulled apart hastily, and Tessa turned crimson, smoothing down her shirt as Ash ran a sheepish hand through his hair. Amara studied her closely now, the brightness in her smile, the enthusiasm in her handshake. There was something about her eyes—something familiar. It gnawed at the edges of Amara’s mind, an unease she couldn’t quite shake.

The three settled into the tiny apartment, talking, laughing, sharing stories until the morning hours. On her way out of the apartment Amara’s gaze flickers across a cluttered desk, scanning the scattered papers absently—until her eyes stop. Her breath halts, her pulse quickens.

Monroe.

The name stares back at her from an open envelope, its ink bold against the cream paper. A chill runs through her fingers as she touches it, tracing the letters as if the act alone could explain why it’s here.

She turns, forcing her voice into something light, something detached.

"Tessa, what did you say your last name was?"

Tessa barely looks up from the sink. "Cage. Why?"

A slow exhale. The tight grip on the envelope loosens.

"Cage."

Not Monroe.

And yet, the name sits there. Bold. Unmoving. Impossible to ignore.