Page 26 of Blood Bond

As we continue our journey, the stark reality of this new world becomes ever more apparent. It's a world where survival is a daily struggle, not just for humans but for all creatures caught in this changed landscape. The emptiness and ruin around us serve as a constant reminder of the fragility of life and the relentless march of time that spares no one in its wake.

As we move into the dense woods, darkness envelops us. Seth somehow maintains his speed, navigating through the thick trees with a confidence that suggests he's travelled this path countless times. Clinging tightly to Killian, my heart races with anticipation, half-expecting a sudden collision with a tree or an unexpected tumble over a hidden branch. Their skillful manoeuvring through the forest is nothing short of remarkable.

My heart leaps as we come upon a massive grey wall, partially hidden behind the trees and hedges. The bare trees, devoid of foliage, resemble skeletal silhouettes with bony fingers stretching over the brick, adding an eerie touch to the landscape.

Seth eventually brings the car to a halt in front of a large gate, and Killian, Naneve, Tasha, and I stop behind him. When the gate opens and we drive through, and it feels as though we're entering a different world. The driveway winds gracefully, meandering through meticulously maintained lawns, walls adorned with vibrant flowers, and purposefully placed trees. It’s a stark contrast to the desolation we've left behind, reminiscent of the grand estates from my childhood.

The path seems endless, and for a moment, I doubt there’s anything at the end. But then, a large, beautiful house comes into view, standing majestically amidst its splendid grounds. As Killian pulls to a stop behind Seth's car, I take in the building’s grey brickwork and dark wood-framed windows, lights glowing warmly in various rooms. It seems to promise a bustling interior, perhaps full of staff.

Removing my helmet, I shiver as the cold air envelops me, but my attention is captivated by the grand structure before us. The mansion’s door swings open, and a man, appearing to be around sixty, steps out. His human appearance surprises me. He descends the steps, bowing gracefully to Seth as he steps out of the car.

As the man addresses Seth, I'm struck by the tone of respect in his voice, a stark contrast to the command and authority often associated with Seth's interactions. "Seth," he says, acknowledging our presence, "I see you've brought guests."

Seth responds with urgency, "Yes, and one of them is injured. Theo, can you prepare the cold room? We need to get her inside before the sun comes up." His concern is evident, a different side of him that I haven't seen often.

Theo's eyes briefly scan the car where Layla lies before nodding in understanding. He turns to us, his bright blue eyes flicking over to me. I feel an odd sensation under his gaze – not fear or judgement, but something else, an inexplicable familiarity. His attention returns to Seth. "Elena has a pot of stew on the stove. I assume your guests are hungry?"

Seth, looking down at his shirt with a frown, seems out of place in his dishevelled state, contrasting sharply with his usual pristine appearance. "Hungry and tired. Have you heard from Lucius?"

"I have, Sir. He informed me of the situation. We've been expecting your visit."

As I dismount from the bike and hand the helmet back to Killian, a tightness grips my throat. Panic sets in as I feel an invisible constriction around my neck. My hands rise instinctively to scratch at my skin, gasping for air.

My vision blurs with panic, and I stumble backward, crashing into Naneve. I struggle for breath, my lungs and throat burning as though constricted. The world spins, and my heart races, pounding a frantic rhythm in my chest.

“Payton—” Seth is suddenly before me, grasping my arms, his presence both grounding and overwhelming. My vision blurs, and I'm torn between wanting to push him away and needing his support. I drop to my knees, burying my face in my hands, desperately trying to draw in air. It feels as if I’m drowning, my lungs starved of oxygen.

For a fleeting moment, my mind escapes the present, whisking me away to a different place, a different time, as if I’m trapt in a memory or a vision, disorienting yet vividly real.

Confronted with the image of Donovan, my mind reels in terror. His face looms before me, grinning menacingly, the shape of his jaw so similar to Seth's but more severe, his eyes piercing.

"Where are you?"he taunts, his words seeming to float on his breath, chilling me to the core.

"No ... I can't ..." I whisper, panic-stricken.

"Payton."I hear my name called from a distance, but it's as if I'm trapt, unable to reach out to the voice.

In desperation, I curl into a ball, pressing my hands against my head, trying to push Donovan's image away. I shake my head, and gradually, his image fades, releasing me from its grip.

"You can't hide like this," the fading image of Donovan taunts.

My eyes snap open, and I'm back in the gardens, gasping for air. Seth is on the ground beside me, concern etched on his face, while Killian and Naneve stand nearby. A woman, presumably Elena, is in front of us.

Coughing and wheezing, my body desperately sucks in air, my throat burning painfully. I'm disoriented and weak, my entire body trembling from the ordeal.

"What did you see?" Seth's voice cuts through the haze, not asking what happened, but focusing on what I experienced.

I stare at him, my throat dry and voice hoarse. "Donovan," I manage to croak out.

Seth's jaw works tightly, a sign of his own inner turmoil. He nods slowly, then turns his gaze to the woman, Elena.

"He knows," Elena states, her voice carrying a weight of certainty.

Seth nods in agreement. "And he has her book."

ChapterTwenty

Confusion swirls within me as I feel their eyes on me, intense and searching. "What's going on?" I demand, more forcefully than I ever would have dared with Crevan. Is it stupidity or a newfound comfort? I've spoken my mind to Seth on many occasions and have yet to face any retribution. I don’t stop, either. "What is happening to me? With this?"

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