Betrayed, lost, broken.
This is Azalea's reality now.
Once a slave, now a warrior.
A future queen tasked with the enormous weight of the survival of her race resting on her shoulders. The wolves are dying. When the vampires took over, the ancient...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"27" by: Machine Gun Kelly
"X" by: Jonas Brothers (feat. KAROL G)
&
"Hard for Me" by: Michele Morrone
Camille couldn't hardly draw breath, her hands shaking as she moved to open the heavy double doors, wincing at the loud screech they made when metal scratched pavement. For a moment time stood still, her form immobile as her eyes ran over the pristine tiled floor and arched ceiling. Her skin shivered as cold fingers wrapped around her wrist. She whirled around, a snarl building at the back of her throat, but it died at the look in the girl's emerald gaze. Knowing it was not the time to take in her nudity, Camille steadily held her gaze, waiting impatiently for whatever she had to say.
"Be careful." She murmured sincerely, the storm wreaking havoc in her eyes softening slightly.
"And go get your man." She added with a wink.
Camille opened her mouth to say something when the brunette suddenly shoved her inside, her lips burning into her cheek a second before the doors slammed shut. Momentarily shocked, it took her eyes a little longer to adjust, but as the moments passed the room gradually brightened. Looking around, she quickly grew disinterested. The pew was no longer standing and most of the benches had been torn apart.
Her heart nearly leapt into her throat as she slowly crept down the isle way, the pressure in her chest urging her forward. Her very soul straining towards the stage, it took everything in her to keep a steady pace, but when he spoke, her steps halted and pain ripped down her back. Her skull was a blazing inferno as her mind desperately reached for his, snapping back with a whimper when she brushed his consciousness. To her horror, his mind was a mosaic of shattered thoughts and fractured emotion, an endless pit of madness. Despair threatened to cripple her but she forced herself onward, knowing she had to see him for herself.
"Well well look who dropped in." He laughed sardonically. "You can't hurt me anymore, demon. I've nothing left. My Mila is gone."
Her chest squeezed at the use of his nickname for her, memories flashing behind her eyes.
"Michael." She whispered, facing her mate for the first time in over five decades.
He hung by his wrists from the metal bars connecting each pillar overtop the stage, clad only in a pair of pants and his hair was long, unkept and filthy. He was so thin she could see his veins and muscle through his skin, his heart looked to be barely pumping, his veins shriveling underneath his skin.
