82. HIDING THE PAST

I wake up in Alaric's room, my mind still foggy from last night's events. My body feels rejuvenated in a way I've never experienced before, every cell pulsing with a new and intoxicating energy, the result of his blood now running through my veins. For a moment, I allow myself to savor this sensation, but soon doubt and confusion invade me. Why did he let this happen? What did that gesture really mean?

Thinking I'm alone, I sit on the bed and wrap my arms around my knees, trying to organize my thoughts. But the sound of the shower stopping cuts through the silence of the room, and moments later, Alaric emerges from the bathroom, a cloud of steam following his steps. He's just in a towel, with his hair still damp, sticking to his forehead, and droplets of water running down the well-defined muscles of his torso. When our eyes meet, he offers a seductive smile that leaves me momentarily breathless.

“You're awake,” he says, his voice soft yet carrying an intensity that makes me shiver.

“Why did you keep me here?” I ask, my voice steady, though my heart beats erratically. I can't deny the effect he has on me, but I need to understand his intentions.

Alaric walks toward me, the towel hanging casually over his shoulders.

“This time, I won't let you drift away again,” he declares, his eyes locked on mine. “Not with the danger just a wing away.”

My mind whirls at his words. Danger. He had mentioned it before, but now it seems more evident, more real. “And Elijah?” I ask, a suspicion forming in my mind. “What does he really want here?”

Alaric sighs and sits down beside me on the bed. He seems to consider what to say, weighing each word before speaking.

"Elijah has his own reasons, which I can't fully reveal yet," he begins, his expression serious. "He is a problem I need to solve. And I..." he pauses, scanning my face as if searching for something, "I can't lose you, Nyra. Not now."

I feel a mix of fear and relief intertwining within me. Alaric is worried, perhaps even afraid, and this only reinforces the seriousness of our situation. However, there's a sincerity in his words that warms me inside, an unspoken promise that he will be by my side, no matter what comes.

"If you keep hiding things from me, I'll want to leave. Leave for good." My voice is a whisper, laden with a promise I'm not even sure I could keep.

Alaric feels the weight of my words, his eyes briefly lowering before meeting mine again.

"Listen, I..."

"No, Alaric," I interrupt, the firmness in my voice reflecting the resolution in my heart. "No more half-truths and secrets. If there's something I need to know about Elijah, something that involves my mother, I need to know now. I can't be at the mercy of this, not with so much at stake."

Alaric sighs, running a hand through his still-damp hair, a look of conflict evident on his face.

"You're right," he begins, hesitant. "And I promised there would be no more lies between us." He adjusts himself, turning to me with solemn seriousness. "Elijah was the one who turned me. That was centuries ago."

The revelation hits me with an expected weight, but no less impactful. I already knew Alaric was a vampire, of course, but I still don't understand what Elijah wants here.

"But why did he turn you? What was the real reason?" I ask, trying to understand the roots of their connection.

Alaric avoids my gaze, his expression becoming even more closed off.

"It's... it's complicated. Elijah is a pureblood vampire, and I am a noble vampire. The bond that the blood of a pureblood creates is deep and complex." I feel frustration growing inside me.

"But what does that really mean, Alaric? What does it have to do with me?"

He finally looks at me, his eyes revealing a whirlwind of emotions.

"I don't know about you. But for me, it means that the bond he created when he turned me has never really broken. I've been fighting it, against the control he could exert over me because of that bond."

"So he still has power over you?" My voice trembles slightly with the implication.

Alaric comes closer, touching my face with the tips of his fingers, his touch calming me instantly.

"I've grown much stronger over the centuries, Nyra. Strong enough to resist him most of the time. But yes, there are moments when feeling his influence is... inevitable."

This explains Alaric's reluctance to discuss Elijah openly, the latent fear behind his usual calm.

"If Elijah still has influence over you, how are we going to make him leave?" I ask, confused amid so many revelations.

Alaric holds my hand, kissing the knot that had formed as my fingers clenched around the sheet.

"Don't worry. I think I've found a way to free myself from his influence once and for all."

This sparks my curiosity and a hint of hope.

"How? What have you discovered?" I ask, eager for anything that might permanently drive Elijah away, although I've seen him in my visions, something keeps me on alert.

Alaric pauses, his gaze becoming distant for a moment before refocusing on me.

"It's something I'm still working on, something delicate. I need more time to be sure it will work and to ensure it won't bring other complications."

The vague answer leaves me frustrated, but I also recognize the seriousness in his tone.

"I need to know, Alaric. If there's danger..." He squeezes my hand, interrupting my worried thoughts.

"I know, Nyra. And you will know everything when the time is right. For now, I just ask that you be patient."

"Patience is hard when you feel threatened by a man I barely know, only from visions about my mother's past," I reply, trying to control the fear beginning to form.

"I understand," he says, looking into my eyes with an intensity that reassures me. "But trust me. And please, try not to be alone with Elijah again. Not until I can resolve this."

I nod, a mix of anxiety and trust nesting in my chest. Although everything conspires for me not to trust Alaric after everything I've discovered about the other women, something tells me he knows what he's doing.

"Okay," I respond, determined to follow his advice. "I'll try to be patient."

"Great." He gives a half-smile. "Shall we go downstairs and have breakfast? Unfortunately, I need to be polite to my greatest enemy, showing him that he doesn't affect me."

I get up from the bed, feeling the need to strengthen my own armor. I walk to the bathroom, where the hot water of the shower promises to invigorate my body and mind. As the water runs over my skin, I think about how to dress, deciding on something that will not only provoke Alaric but also send a clear message to Elijah: his words and games have no power over me.

I choose a dress that I know catches Alaric's eye, fitting perfectly and accentuating every curve, while its subtle fabric leaves little to the imagination. My hair, I leave loose, cascading down to the middle of my back, and the makeup is intentionally flawless, balancing a sense of approachability with a dash of authority.

Ready, I leave the bathroom and find Alaric rolling up his shirt sleeves to his elbows, looking at himself in the mirror with concentration. I stop beside him, drawing his gaze to my body. He watches me for a moment, a spark of appreciation evident in his eyes.

"I could spend the rest of the day in this room, taking that beautiful dress off you," he comments, his tone low and mischievous.

"Thank you, but we have something better to do," I respond, trying to hide the tremor of nervousness in my voice. With a light smile, he offers his arm, which I accept promptly. Together, we leave the room.

In the corridor, we run into Zion, who seems unable to disguise his interest. His gaze sweeps over me from top to bottom, sending a shiver through my stomach. Zion has always had this effect on me, a dangerous combination of attraction and apprehension, although my body still remembers his touch in that cabin.

Ignoring the tension, we continue down to the dining room. There, we find Elijah already at the table. He stands up as he sees us, his attire impeccable and a cynical smile on his face.

"They finally came down to join me for breakfast. How beautiful are you, Nyra?" Elijah says, his voice smooth but laden with hidden intentions.

"Thank you, Elijah. I see you've already started your day," I respond, keeping my tone neutral as I sit down. Alaric sits beside me, and I feel the slight squeeze of his hand on mine.

"Have you thought about what I told you, dear?" Elijah says, sitting back down and placing the napkin on his lap. His tone is casual, but loaded with deliberate provocation.

Alaric looks at me, confused by the interaction, and then shifts his gaze to Elijah, who seems amused by the attention he has managed to attract.

I struggle to maintain composure, feeling the weight of Alaric's gaze on me. Before I can respond, Elijah continues, the smile never leaving his face.

"Alaric, haven't you made her curious? About how one becomes a vampire? It's a fascinating process, really."

The silence that follows is heavy, laden with a tension that makes me uncomfortable. Alaric squeezes my hand under the table, a gesture of support and also a warning to remain silent.

"She knows enough," Alaric finally replies, his voice firm, but his look at me says more than his words.

Elijah chuckles softly, leaning back in his chair. "Ah, but does she really? There is always more to learn, especially about the... nuances of our nature."

The implicit challenge in his words makes my heart beat faster. What is Elijah suggesting and what does Alaric fear to tell me? The questions whirl in my mind as Elijah's gaze promises revelations that Alaric might prefer to keep hidden.