Standing before the formidable edifice of my castle, a fortress guarded by werewolves patrolling the perimeter, vampires stationed near the gate, and witches weaving their protective spells, I marvelled at the sense of security that enveloped our grounds. In a world fraught with danger, my castle stood as a bastion of safety, a sanctuary for supernaturals seeking refuge from the chaos that plagued our realm.
As I crossed the threshold and ventured inside, a wave of deference washed over me, the assembled supernaturals bowing their heads in acknowledgment. Echoes of "Welcome back, Madam" and "Good to see you, Madam" reverberated through the grand halls, a testament to the respect and reverence they held for their mistress.
Amidst the throng, Marcos, my loyal confidant, awaited me with a sense of urgency etched upon his features.
"Madam, did you acquire the white..." he began, only to be cut off by my steely gaze.
"Marcos, follow me. We shall speak in private," I commanded, my tone brooking no argument.
Without hesitation, Marcos fell into step behind me as I made my way to the seclusion of my chamber. His unease was palpable, his mind undoubtedly swirling with questions and doubts regarding the events that had transpired.
As we entered the sanctum of my chamber, Marcos hovered at my side, his demeanor betraying a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. I could sense his trepidation, his uncertainty about the wisdom of allowing me to undertake the task alone. But as I settled upon my throne, it was clear that the time for secrecy had passed.
"Madam, forgive my bluntness, but did you secure the white oak stake?" Marcos ventured, his words laced with a hint of urgency.
I regarded him with a steely gaze, my resolve unwavering in the face of his inquiry.
"The very stake you failed to obtain, yes, it now rests securely in my possession," I replied, my voice carrying the weight of certainty.
"But what of the hybrid? His thirst for blood knows no bounds," Marcos pressed, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow.
"We shall be prepared for his arrival, and I highly doubt he will come with any formidable force," I asserted, my confidence unshaken.
"And Elijah? What of our promise to him and his family?" Marcos persisted, his loyalty to our agreements evident in his words.
"Klaus Mikaelson has broken the terms of our agreement, he has spilled innocent blood and threatened the safety of my people," I declared, my voice tinged with a steely resolve. "When he comes, he shall face the consequences of his actions."
"But Elijah..." Marcos began, only to be silenced by the force of my gaze.
"Elijah knows his place, and he knows the terms of our agreement. When the time comes, he will do what is necessary," I stated firmly, my authority brooking no dissent.
With a nod of dismissal, Marcos retreated from my chamber, leaving me alone with my thoughts and memories. As the specter of Sarah loomed large in my mind, I felt the presence of Icy, my ever-vigilant servant, awaiting my command.
"Yes, Icy, what is it?" I inquired, my voice tinged with a sense of anticipation.
Standing before the formidable edifice of my castle, a fortress guarded by werewolves patrolling the perimeter, vampires stationed near the gate, and witches weaving their protective spells, I marveled at the sense of security that enveloped our grounds. In a world fraught with danger, my castle stood as a bastion of safety, a sanctuary for supernaturals seeking refuge from the chaos that plagued our realm.
As I crossed the threshold and ventured inside, a wave of deference washed over me, the assembled supernaturals bowing their heads in acknowledgment. Echoes of "Welcome back, Madam" and "Good to see you, Madam" reverberated through the grand halls, a testament to the respect and reverence they held for their mistress.
Amidst the throng, Marcos, my loyal confidant, awaited me with a sense of urgency etched upon his features.
"Madam, did you acquire the white..." he began, only to be cut off by my steely gaze.
"Marcos, follow me. We shall speak in private," I commanded, my tone brooking no argument.
Without hesitation, Marcos fell into step behind me as I made my way to the seclusion of my chamber. His unease was palpable, his mind undoubtedly swirling with questions and doubts regarding the events that had transpired.
As we entered the sanctum of my chamber, Marcos hovered at my side, his demeanor betraying a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. I could sense his trepidation, his uncertainty about the wisdom of allowing me to undertake the task alone. But as I settled upon my throne, it was clear that the time for secrecy had passed.
"Madam, forgive my bluntness, but did you secure the white oak stake?" Marcos ventured, his words laced with a hint of urgency.
I regarded him with a steely gaze, my resolve unwavering in the face of his inquiry.
"The very stake you failed to obtain, yes, it now rests securely in my possession," I replied, my voice carrying the weight of certainty.
"But what of the hybrid? His thirst for blood knows no bounds," Marcos pressed, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow.
"We shall be prepared for his arrival, and I highly doubt he will come with any formidable force," I asserted, my confidence unshaken.
"And Elijah? What of our promise to him and his family?" Marcos persisted, his loyalty to our agreements evident in his words.
"Klaus Mikaelson has broken the terms of our agreement, he has spilled innocent blood and threatened the safety of my people," I declared, my voice tinged with a steely resolve. "When he comes, he shall face the consequences of his actions."
"But Elijah..." Marcos began, only to be silenced by the force of my gaze.
"Elijah knows his place, and he knows the terms of our agreement. When the time comes, he will do what is necessary," I stated firmly, my authority brooking no dissent.
With a nod of dismissal, Marcos retreated from my chamber, leaving me alone with my thoughts and memories. As the specter of Sarah loomed large in my mind, I felt the presence of Icy, my ever-vigilant servant, awaiting my command.
"Yes, Icy, what is it?" I inquired, my voice tinged with a sense of anticipation.
Meanwhile, in the shadowy depths of the Salvatore house, a different scene unfolded. Bound and captive in the dimly lit confines of the basement, Sarah found herself at the mercy of Damon Salvatore, his steely gaze boring into her with relentless intensity.
"Well, well, well, look who we have here," Damon remarked, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Our little Sarah."
Struggling against her restraints, Sarah met his gaze with defiance, her resolve unshaken even in the face of impending danger.
"Damon, let me go," she demanded, her voice laced with a mixture of fear and determination.
But Damon's grin only widened, his eyes gleaming with mischief and malice.
"I'm afraid that's not an option, sweetheart," he replied, his tone dripping with menace. "Not until you tell us everything you know about Domenica."
YOU ARE READING
Dark Angel
Teen FictionShe was none as Domenica, a angel of death that could bring you to your knees and made you spill and tell your darkest desires. She was also none for the good deeds she had done upon the unprotected and the innocent who got caught up in this cruel w...
