Riley Hayes | A Vampire Novel | Book 2

Chapter 23 -

It had been a few days since Leuca and I fucked and spent many tumultuouses nights together. Something inside me had shifted profoundly. My emotions were a wild storm of desire and need, and Leuca's constant care had helped ground me somewhat. He had been feeding me small amounts of human blood, just enough to help me regain a sense of control and stability. I was starting to adapt, I didn't accept it still, but I felt more like myself.

The fucking blood made me so horny. 

All the time.

Every feeding, Leuca was there consoling me.  Fucking me. It grounded me. 

Today, I decided, I was finally going to see my children. The anticipation felt like a buzzing electric current running through me. I needed to see them, to hold them, to assure them that I was still their mother despite everything that had changed. Leuca, ever attentive, had arranged for Damian to come first. I had acted horrible against them, my rage clouded my mind. My babies didn't deserve that, god. 

I was waiting in my room, trying to calm my racing heart, when Leuca entered with Damian. My son looked fearful, his face etched with lines of worry and sadness. His eyes, red and swollen from crying, locked onto mine, and for a moment, I felt the weight of my choices and their impact on him.

"Damian!" I called softly, my voice trembling. My heart ached to comfort him, to make things right, but I was acutely aware of how my new nature complicated everything.

Damian rushed towards me, his arms enveloping me in a desperate hug. It was the first time I even looked at him. I felt his body tremble against mine as he cried uncontrollably. I pulled him close, my heart aching at the sight of his distress. Fuck, I did this. I caused this. His scent was familiar and comforting, but the primal urge to taste his blood tugged at me. It was a constant battle to push that desire aside, to focus on the emotional reunion rather than the hunger.

I pushed it away. 

I'm in control. 

"Mom, I've missed you so much," Damian sobbed, his voice muffled against my shoulder.

"I've missed you too, Damian," I whispered, my voice cracking. "I'm so sorry for everything. For not being there, for all the pain you've gone through."

He shook his head, his eyes wide with panic. "I... I couldn't let you go, Mommy. I promised I would, but I can't lose you. I just can't..."

His words were choked with desperation, and I could see the raw anguish in his face. I gently cupped his cheeks in my hands, trying to offer him some semblance of comfort amidst his turmoil.

"Damian, listen to me," I said softly, my voice steady despite the emotional storm inside me. "I'm still so angry. We've talked about this, about how you were always so afraid of losing me. This fear has been with you since you were a child, always so close to the surface. I understand that fear, and I get why you did what you did. But I need you to know... I still wish you'd let me go when I asked."

His eyes brimmed with tears, and I could see how deeply my words affected him. I continued, my tone gentle but firm. "I'm not saying this to hurt you. I'm saying it because it's the truth. I am still angry, and that anger is something I'll need time to work through. But despite it all, I do forgive you. It will take time, but I want you to know that I do."

Damian nodded slowly, the weight of my words sinking in. The silence between us was heavy, filled with the unspoken understanding of how difficult and complex our situation had become. ''I need you, mom...''

My eyes softened, ''you don't silly, you really don't anymore. I love you.'' I held onto him while he continued to cry and say he'll always need me. 

Well, always we have now.

Leuca stood to the side, his frustration barely masked. "Now it's done. I don't want to see my heir cry another tear. Enough with this weak display, Damian."

I lifted my head and glared at Leuca, feeling a surge of protective instinct for my son, just like I always did. "Don't  dictate how my son grieves. He's allowed to cry and express his pain. He needs to." I hissed. 

Leuca's gaze softened, though his irritation was still apparent. "Protective hen." He grumbled. But he smiled afterward, he loved seeing it once more, me being protective of our children. 

A little while later, Rayna also entered the room, her face streaked with tears. Seeing her sadness added another layer to my own grief. She approached cautiously, her eyes filled with regret. "Riley, I'm so sorry. I never wanted any of this. I didn't fully grasp what I was doing when I agreed to turn you." She started.

I reached out to her, pulling her into a tight embrace. "Oh darling, you were trying to help. I understand that now, even if it was a difficult decision."

Rayna clung to me, her sobs blending with mine. "I just wish there was something more I could do. I wish I could undo the pain we've caused, I'm so sorry I did this to you."

"It's okay," I reassured her, my voice filled with sincerity. "Thank you for coming, I'm also sorry for how I behaved."

She talked a little more to me, about my behavior and how it'll always be hard to control. But she also noted I had very much control, especially for a newly turned vampire. She was quite impressed with me, but also didn't expect anything less from me. After Rayna stepped back, Leuca signaled for the twins to be brought in. The door opened, and Leia and Zera walked in, their faces a mixture of hope and anxiety. They had grown so much in my absence, and the sight of them made my heart swell with both joy and sorrow.

I hurried to them, enveloping them in my arms. Their small bodies felt so fragile and precious as I held them close. I struggled to hold onto both of them when I was human, but now I could easily pick the both of them up. Their cries were heart-wrenching, and I felt tears prickling my eyes again. Zera had grown much more as well, her vampire genes were stronger than Leia's. 

"Mommy, we missed you so much," Leia's voice was filled with a mixture of relief and sadness.

"Why did you leave? " Zera added, her voice barely more than a whisper. Their tiny arms held onto me, clung to me as if I would go away again. 

"I'm so sorry," I said through my tears, hugging them tighter. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I hate that I missed so much of your lives. I see how much you've grown, and it breaks my heart that I wasn't there to witness it."

Leia looked up at me, her big, tear-filled eyes reflecting the pain and confusion she felt. "It's not fair, Mommy. Daddy said we couldn't see you... You were crying so much..."

God, even Leia's speech had improved so much. 

"I know, sweetheart," I said softly, wiping her tears away. "It wasn't fair, everything that happened wasn't fair. Vampires age so quickly, and I missed so much of it. But I'm here now, and I promise I'll do my best to make up for lost time."

They had seen hell too, when Archie had attacked the mansion. They had seen me fight, bleed and fall. Kids shouldn't see that. 

Zera clung to me, her little frame trembling. "Will you stay with us now?"

"Yes, I will," I promised, my voice steady despite the emotional turmoil inside me. "I'm not going anywhere.'' 

Leuca watched from a distance, his expression a mixture of relief and concern. He occasionally glanced at me, his eyes reflecting a deep empathy for the difficult situation. It was clear he was trying to balance his own feelings with the needs of our family.

As I held my children, I could feel the weight of the time lost and the experiences I hadn't shared with them. Yet, in this moment, the joy of being reunited with them was overwhelming. Leuca's presence was a comforting anchor, his support evident even if unspoken.

We spent the next hour together, talking, hugging, and sharing stories. The girls were showing me lots of drawings. As the day drew to a close, I felt a glimmer of hope that, despite everything, we might find a way to rebuild and move forward as a family. I might move forward and be the mother they need. 

Maybe I'll never fully adjust to this new existence, and perhaps one day, when the time is right, I might end this suffering. But for now, I have to be there for them. I have to be their mother, for as long as they need me to be.