This was probably the worst day of his twenty-three years of existence.
Why is that when the Samhain is nearing, more bloody occurrences are unexpectedly happening? Was this a coincidence?
No. He once heard from a World War II veteran way back in England that nothing in this world is a coincidence. Everything happens for a reason.
And who the hell is the Blood Mistress? Is she a woman? Or a man hiding beneath the cloak of a woman? Either way, this person is wholly lunatic and psychotic.
‘I will mercilessly skin that bitch alive if ever I found out who she is!’
He was still staring at Henriz’ mangled body. If not for his werewolf eyesight, he couldn’t recognize his long-time male friend.
A red rose was put between Henriz’s teeth as seen in his decapitated head.
‘A branding of the Blood Mistress to her victims.’
Cyrill mused. He was not crying, but his heart was indeed wailing for a time. He had lost a mother before…now his dear friend.
It doesn’t matter if the man spread throughout Shamrock that he’s his boyfriend. He was his boy-friend in all aspects anyway.
Henriz was the only man who helped him battle during street fights back when he was a teenager. It was also him that…that showed him that after all this time, he apparently has a heart.
Cyrill never thought that he had a heart. He could not feel it prior to Henriz’ arrival in his life. The man may be naughty in some ways but, he is indeed a one true friend.
Cyrill didn’t notice that his eye was already releasing a tear across his face. He only noticed it when Vesta gestured to him that ‘you’re crying’ across the room.
He clenched his fist until his hand turned a shade of red. He will definitely hunt down the bitch that goes by the name of Blood Mistress.
***
Vesta was pounding on top of Cyrill.
He immediately invited the red-head girl as soon as they finished cleaning the remnants and mess in the hideous study.
They were in the woman’s car. Both magnificently undressed.
“It’s a good thing to know that whenever you’re frustrated, you release your frustration by thrusting someone inside,” Vesta remarked, her bare breasts bouncing in their rhythmic oscillation.
Cyrill’s unclothed olive-colored chest was beaming with sweat, making anyone plunged into sexual craziness if they ever witnessed his glorious naked figure.
He honestly couldn’t believe this was happening. This coitus and the dead bodies earlier.
He was debating if he should thank the Blood Mistress. If not for her attack, he wouldn't be able to drill this gorgeous burgundy-haired woman on top of him.
Vesta was beautiful. Like the Norse Goddess Freya, Vesta was both filled with feminine grace and warrior poise. She was apparently an all-in-one package. But, he will only allow his body to be tasted by this female werewolf.
His heart would forever belong to the woman that he has been with ever since he was young. The woman whose green eyes were as green as the vast moors of the southern part of Ireland. The lady whose mere presence every time would send electricity flowing all over his body. The lass whose ebony black hair is as dark as the heavenly blanket above.
“You seem to be in deep thoughts, Cyrill,” the naked woman sweetly stated. Her arms are spread wide above Cyrill, holding firmly as she moved and bounced and pounded. Her legs were widely laid on top of him, devouring the entire blank space of the car’s backseat. Their warm breath fogged the car windows, making it look bizarre if one is watching from a distance.
“I’m just counting the days since the last time I fucked someone, Vesta,” he answered. His breath is uneven, probably because of the pleasure that is flooding him on the inside and on the outside. His groin was hard inside her, standing tall inside her wet abyss.
“I can feel you in my stomach, darling,” she said as her lips crushed into him. They kissed deeply and slowly, savouring every second of their tongue’s sophisticated entwinement.
She was hot inside him. In a blink of an eye, Vesta was now on fire. Like literally engulfed in fire. Yet, the fire doesn’t seem to burn the car nor Cyrill. In the distance, it just felt like a beacon in the midst of the charcoal night, lighting every corner of darkness—both physically and emotionally.
The Pasiphae werewolf duplicated the Elemental’s powers. He too was shrouded with light. But it was not fire that was engulfing him. It was blue and…frosty. Cyrill was covered in a beaming icy wind, from head to toe.
A phantom breeze touched Vesta’s breasts, making her loudly moan as she held tightly in Cyrill’s chestnut brown hair.
Invisible hands caressed Vesta’s smooth back, making her bounce harder and faster. Cyrill then gave her a wolfish smile.
“I like that hmm.”
“So was I.”
Cyrill was the one dominating the tango. They looked at each other’s eyes, enjoying their one-night dance.
She bit her lip so that the pleasure won’t escape from her mouth. He drilled her faster than before, making the whole car rocked from side to side.
A minute later, they were panting. Vesta climbed down and sat beside the man. Her core was swelling. It was completely a rough sex for a first-timer like her—a virgin like her.
She was just catching her breath when Cyrill’s voice resonated in her ears.
“Care for round two?”
A smile was her only reply before the lad hopped on top of her. They then cascaded into a carnal pleasure for the second time around.
***
Rozelyn was peering at the window outside when she noticed a red car rocking from side to side.
She opened the windows to breathe for the fresh air of the night when her vampire senses smelled a cherry-ish aroma.
‘A scent of carnal release…’
She mused as she leaned outside and silently gazed at the million stars twinkling above.
Rozelyn can hear the moans of Vesta from this room. Uninterested, she just ignored it.
Well, they are creatures who treat sex as a dessert anyway. For vampires and werewolves, there are only three things that one should be doing every month: drink blood, eat a normal food, and fuck someone.
Hemera once stated during the Housewarming Ceremony that some of their companions engage in homosexual sex. But, according to her, the opposite gender is the most beneficial one when deciding to fuck for pleasure.
In accordance to the grand vampire’s words, having sex with opposite gender does not only ignite your natural carnal instinct, it also allows you to exchange energy from one another. Let’s say that the other one was recently drained because of using too much power and the other one hasn’t used their energy that much for the day, they can regain their strength by absorbing some of the other’s untouched energy, making the drained one to be in a full mode again. That is why Hemera advised her that if she’ll ever have sex, it is much preferable if it is an intercourse, not just a whistling or a rear-entrance convergence.
She sighed at the thought. Thinking all those previous sexual lessons make her vomit on the floor. Luckily, she has prepared a bucket on her table side in case her stomach does not agree to continue listening to Cyrill and Vesta’s tango on the car below.
She has no right to be jealous. She is not his official girlfriend, or an applicant for his soon-to-be girlfriend.
No. She was just a young lady who’s content enough to watch her beloved exist—breathing soundly and standing tall in the earthly soil. She doesn’t wish any further than that. Yes, she was once a self-centered brat. But, time has changed. And being the most powerful vampire made her set aside her personal and romantic agenda. She must first unravel the identity of this Blood Mistress before getting laid by a man.
It had been a year since her crevice was entered by a man’s velvet steel. Yes, her abyss was empty and widely open for a serpent to slither in. But, this is an upheaval time. It’s her duty as her stepmom’s successor to protect their kind. Fucking someone can wait. Though she has a right to be envious. But one will always become jealous unless you discipline yourself to not feel the feeling of jealousy. All it takes is a little bit of mind-control and self-discipline.
Yet, her mind always contradicts that notion. Her mind keeps whispering to her that jealousy is a feeling that someone can never keep from sprouting and growing.
***
Cyrill gets out of the car after finishing his late night dance with Vesta. Avril was already snoring in the visitor’s lounge as he refused to leave his girlfriend vulnerable with the horrors earlier. He then waved goodbye to Vesta as she drove home at one in the morning.
As soon as her car was meters away, he decided to get in the house and let his body rest for a few hours before dawn. In the corner of his eye, he saw Rozelyn by the window. Her thoughts seemed to be deep and serious.
‘Did she see us?’
He was still peering at her when Rozelyn’s gaze averted towards him. He jerked instantly and just walked towards the house—innocently and naively as if he was not ‘guilty’.
‘She may not have seen us but with her Thaumaturge senses, she could hear anyone even a hundred miles away…’
He then shook his head as he locked the grand wooden door.
As he turned around, his eyes were as wide as a golf field. His heart began throbbing faster when he saw Rozelyn standing inches away from him—her emerald green eyes were unreadable by his Pasiphae gifts.