Page 27 of Blood Bond

"We should get inside," Seth says, casting a glance towards the ever-lightening sky. The sun is rising, heralding a new day.

And I feel it too - an inexplicable sense of change, a shift in the very air around me. It's as if the dawn is not just bringing light to the world, but also to the murky uncertainties clouding my mind. There's a part of me that yearns for answers, for clarity amid this chaos that my life has become. As Seth turns his back on me and walks towards the car, I feel something deep within me crack, like a fissure opening in the core of my being.

"Why won't you tell me? What's with all the secrecy? You all have these secrets," I call out, my voice a mix of frustration and desperation.

The others remain silent, observing the unfolding scene. Killian looks at Seth, his expression one of a child awaiting a response from an authority figure.

Seth peers over his shoulder at me. “You’re not ready,” he states bluntly. Then, dismissing me, he nods to the man he called Theo. “Carry her inside. She shouldn’t wake, not with the sun rising. Put her in the cold room, have a bag of blood beside her, then lock the door. Make sure it is secured.”

“Sire,” Theo bows, his one word signifying acquiescence to Seth's orders, and he sets about his task diligently.

Seth walks to the other side of the car, retrieving items he gathered from Skin Trade before we left.

I step away from them, feeling a surge of independence. Seth gave me my freedom; he said so himself. When I tested it, he never chased me. That’s what’s on my mind now as I watch them, my questions unanswered, my voice unheard.

With Crevan, I learnt to suppress everything, to not let emotions swamp me. Even when I felt them brewing inside, I learnt control. Now, watching these people moving about, knowing things I don't, hiding things from me, it's almost too much to bear.

Killian seems to sense what's on my mind, and my need to just walk away, even if only for a little while. Maybe to go somewhere I can think, somewhere away from all the chaos to unpack all the facts. He angles his head towards me, lowering the bag he’s holding. “Payton…”

I shake my head, feeling my resolve slowly waning. “I’m sorry.” In that moment, the need to escape, to find a space where I can breathe and think clearly, becomes overwhelming. I don’t know where I'm going, but the urge to distance myself from the unanswered questions, the secrets, and the overwhelming sense of being controlled is all-consuming. I take a step back, turning as I do, and before I fully comprehend my own actions, I run.

Driven by a flurry of emotions, I find myself running not away from the property, but deeper into its vast land. Even amidst my emotionally charged escape, a part of me knows better than to venture beyond its boundaries. So, I aim for the trees, veering off the path, just getting away from them.

It's a turmoil inside – hurt feelings, things I have no right to feel, or so I tell myself. It's about Seth. I can't quite unravel the connection between us, but it's there, palpable and frustrating. He and I are on opposite ends of this world; he wields all the control, and I have none. Yet, there's this inexplicable pull in my chest, almost like a betrayal, that he won’t speak.

As I dash through the underbrush, I can hear them behind me. Killian's cautious call, “Sire,” echoes faintly. But he isn’t coming after me.

Seth calls my name, and I shake my head, refusing to stop. Then his voice again, firm and commanding. “Get the others inside.” Yet, he doesn’t chase me, either. He just calls out from the edge of the woods.

I'm not sure where I’m going. The adrenaline courses through my veins, propelling me forward. My legs can’t move fast enough, my arms pump to drive me onwards, but it feels like it's not enough.

In this frantic escape, it’s not just the physical distance I’m trying to put between Seth and myself. It’s the emotional distance, a desperate attempt to gain some semblance of control over the overwhelming feelings that are threatening to consume me. The confusion, the frustration, the unspoken bond – it's all too much, too fast.

The forest around me blurs as I push through, branches snapping underfoot, leaves rustling in my wake. My heart pounds in my chest, echoing the tumultuous rush of my thoughts. With each stride, I'm not just fleeing from Seth and the others; I'm running towards a clarity I desperately seek, away from the shadows of the unknown that loom over me.

Eventually, my pace slows as my legs begin to protest, my arms ache, and my chest heaves for air. I come to a gradual stop, bending over with my hands on my thighs, allowing myself to inhale deeply, trying to steady the ragged breaths that fight to escape.

Exhausted, I drop to my knees, leaning forward to rest my face in my hands. I'm not crying or sobbing; I'm simply existing in the moment, allowing myself to just be.

Sitting there, with the cool earth beneath me and the canopy of trees above, I feel a small measure of peace. It's a respite from the chaos, a momentary escape from the complexities that have entangled my life.

I close my eyes, taking in the sounds and smells of the forest. It’s a stark contrast to the world I've been thrust into. Here, there are no secrets, no veiled truths, or unspoken bonds – just the simplicity of nature, indifferent and beautiful in its indifference.

In my disoriented state, I find myself in what seems at first like a clearing, where the foliage has been cut back. As I get to my feet, pushing up off the soft earth, I take a closer look at my surroundings. For a moment, my troubles are forgotten, replaced by a curious urge to explore this unexpected find. I step forward, my eyes scanning the area. It slowly dawns on me – this isn't just a garden. It's a graveyard.

There are headstones, five of them, all lined up in a somewhat haphazard manner. My pulse steadies as I take in the sight. The headstones are old, crumbling away in places, weathered by time. Most of the inscriptions have been eroded, their stories lost to the ages. But one catches my eye, standing out from the rest. It's been cared for, the letters perhaps recently re-carved into its stone surface.

"Katherine," it reads.

I whisper the name aloud, "Katherine …"

The name hangs in the air, a silent echo in the stillness of the graveyard.

I sense Seth's presence before I see him; his aura is unmistakable – warm yet commanding. "She was your wife?" I venture, lifting my eyes to meet his.

He stands near a large tree, an unexpected casualness to his posture, hands in his pockets. "No, I never had the chance to marry her," he answers, and his voice carries a weight of sadness that resonates with me. "You're running away again?"

Taking a deep breath, I feel a sense of calm seeping in, easing the urge that drove my flight. "I don't know," I admit, aware of the tension in my body as he steps closer. A part of me braces for a reprimand.

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