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Viktor and Marcus began to invade her nightmares. Relentlessly they taunted and mocked her like hounds of hell with their dogged determination to make her miserable. If she did not know better, she would have thought that they were haunting her from the afterlife. They poked and prodded at the fact that she was alone in the world, that she had inherited a vast empire of uncertainty. Viktor scoffed at her suffering over his death and scolded her for not immediately annihilating the rest of Lycans. He pushed her towards conquest, not only over the werewolves but also over the other wretched species of vampire.
Marcus only sat perched on a marble throne, as if he was reminding her who the first true vampire was even though she was now the oldest and strongest elder, the only elder.
Amelia, Amelia, Amelia…what will you do, now that you can’t be Viktor’s personal cheerleader?
Go to hell, the both of you.
That was a weak defense but how do you deal with a nightmare when you don’t know that you’re dreaming? The fact that it was a full moon was partly to blame for her feverish dreams, as blood tinted sweat glistened on her forehead. She grasped the soaked sheets in her fists and gashed her teeth against her gums in pain. The full moon was always a struggle for her ever since a disgusting Lycan had bitten her. On the night of the full moon, the Lycan virus grew more aggressive in her body and attacked the Vampire Dominant virus, something that would kill any other vampire and mortal. Still, despite being an Elder, she was not immune since it was the Lycan Elder, Raze, who had attacked her. He was younger than she was though, so the virus he transmitted was weaker in her body as well. Still. Here she lay, her darkest secret buried under soaked sheets and a locked door. No one else knew for she feared it would toss the coven into another panic and perhaps even have the more…ambitious underlings, try to kill and overthrow her when she was down. No, she carried on, business as usual. The pain, which racked her body, made her scream out into a silk pillow. That woke her up. Sitting up in bed, the poisoned queen gets up and stumbles towards the chair. Breathing deeply, she closes her eyes and tries to control her blood. She would be the commander of the war raging in her veins.
You will not win over me. Visualizing the virus in her veins, she overwhelmed it with her own blood, her own virus. It was not enough that she would spend eternity alone, that she would be the lone warrior-queen, but she was also alone in fighting the pain that ran like liquid fire through her veins.
Glancing at a wooden box on the dresser, she knew that inside was a letter, a letter that she hoped Selene would either find or be given by Mátayás,in the event that these dualing virus' killed her one day. Inside,there were many disclosures but most importantly the letter held Amelia and Viktor's last request, should anything have happened to the both of them. That request would have probably shocked the living hell out of Selene.
Forget it. I'm not dead yet. It will take more than this.
It was only during the full moon that Amelia prayed for the night to end. She smirked through her pain though, for the elder knew that a person could be broken by pain or made stronger by it. She was too damn stubborn to let it break her. Still, if there was a cure or something to suppress the Lycan virus in her, she wouldn’t say no. Cringing through yet another wave of pain, she looked down to see that her nails had carved inch deep gashes into the wooden armrest.
I will bleed the Lycans dry.
Marcus only sat perched on a marble throne, as if he was reminding her who the first true vampire was even though she was now the oldest and strongest elder, the only elder.
Amelia, Amelia, Amelia…what will you do, now that you can’t be Viktor’s personal cheerleader?
Go to hell, the both of you.
That was a weak defense but how do you deal with a nightmare when you don’t know that you’re dreaming? The fact that it was a full moon was partly to blame for her feverish dreams, as blood tinted sweat glistened on her forehead. She grasped the soaked sheets in her fists and gashed her teeth against her gums in pain. The full moon was always a struggle for her ever since a disgusting Lycan had bitten her. On the night of the full moon, the Lycan virus grew more aggressive in her body and attacked the Vampire Dominant virus, something that would kill any other vampire and mortal. Still, despite being an Elder, she was not immune since it was the Lycan Elder, Raze, who had attacked her. He was younger than she was though, so the virus he transmitted was weaker in her body as well. Still. Here she lay, her darkest secret buried under soaked sheets and a locked door. No one else knew for she feared it would toss the coven into another panic and perhaps even have the more…ambitious underlings, try to kill and overthrow her when she was down. No, she carried on, business as usual. The pain, which racked her body, made her scream out into a silk pillow. That woke her up. Sitting up in bed, the poisoned queen gets up and stumbles towards the chair. Breathing deeply, she closes her eyes and tries to control her blood. She would be the commander of the war raging in her veins.
You will not win over me. Visualizing the virus in her veins, she overwhelmed it with her own blood, her own virus. It was not enough that she would spend eternity alone, that she would be the lone warrior-queen, but she was also alone in fighting the pain that ran like liquid fire through her veins.
Glancing at a wooden box on the dresser, she knew that inside was a letter, a letter that she hoped Selene would either find or be given by Mátayás,in the event that these dualing virus' killed her one day. Inside,there were many disclosures but most importantly the letter held Amelia and Viktor's last request, should anything have happened to the both of them. That request would have probably shocked the living hell out of Selene.
Forget it. I'm not dead yet. It will take more than this.
It was only during the full moon that Amelia prayed for the night to end. She smirked through her pain though, for the elder knew that a person could be broken by pain or made stronger by it. She was too damn stubborn to let it break her. Still, if there was a cure or something to suppress the Lycan virus in her, she wouldn’t say no. Cringing through yet another wave of pain, she looked down to see that her nails had carved inch deep gashes into the wooden armrest.
I will bleed the Lycans dry.
