Page 74 of Potion of Deception (Potion of Deception #1)
A PRICE FOR CURIOSITY
T he metallic scent blew into the air – a moment of silence before a burst of soul-destroying scream.
Dante's fangs flashed in the darkness as they buried into Violette's bare skin.
The colors drained from her face in a blink of an eye.
The scream stuck in her throat and for a moment it seemed that she wouldn't be able to squeeze out even a small squeak, but then the heartbreaking cry left her mouth.
Her voice echoed through the hall as if a terrible reminder from the past. The grotto fell into a dark night with no stars, no moon, no glimpse of hope.
Only the phantom of the beginning of heartbreaking tragedy fated by the start, was glutting the air.
There was nothing Violette or anyone else could do – only wait for the end of her story as its ending was already written on the pages of a book covered in an ancient layer of dust.
Everyone had known that meeting a vampire would bring no good, there was nothing that could hint at a happy ending for such an event, especially if you're making a deal with one of those night monsters, but Violette wanted to believe it would end differently.
She always thought people had a love for exaggeration but even she knew that making friends with a bloodsucking beast is a bad idea.
She just had faith that the stories were wrong, or only telling one side, keeping something else undercover as it always happens.
But she forgot that life wasn't a fairytale.
She will never go back home. She will never see her father again.
And she will never step into her lovely potion shop, smelling of violets and doomed dreams. But mostly she will not even remember it.
There will be nothing. There will be no her.
“DANTE!” Violette didn't give up pleading. Her hand struggled against his chest.
She tried to push him, to sneak out from his arms, shrink back but every attempt to do so was completely useless.
The more she bucked, the more densely his hands were squeezing her waist, like he was determined to crush her bones.
Her whole body ached, a growing hollow where her heart fought to not fall asleep.
Her hands gave up, and it seemed that a little longer and she wouldn't be able to feel anything at all.
She was expecting to crash on the ground at any moment, if not for the vampire's tight grip.
“Dante, stop, please…” she cried. “Dante…”
Her voice weakened as did all of her limbs.
She wasn't sure if she still stayed on her own feet or she was just being held.
She wasn't sure she recognized her voice anymore and it seemed like she heard it far away…
it wasn't there, it was too quiet. Everything became too quiet.
She couldn't move anymore and she couldn't scream either.
Life was slipping through her fingers with every second, her eyelids felt too heavy.
She tried to break away again with her last burst of energy but she wasn't even sure she did anything. Did she hit him or just slightly tapped on his shoulder ?
“Dante,” her voice felt too dry, her body felt too helpless.
Her gaze got too blurry, the unfordable haze engulfed her mind.
“Please!” she cried louder as if trying to hear herself. “Please…”
The ailing pain consumed her completely as the vampire’s hunger was only growing.
He didn't hear any of her pleas. He didn't hear how she screamed, how she was asking him to stop, how her voice trembled and then slowly faded away.
And suddenly it was too quiet. Too dark.
Too lonely in this room as if something was gone.