BOUND TO MY MATE

CHAPTER 15

A/N, THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO KATIESPRUILL5. I WANT TO THANK YOU FOR PRETTY MUCH READING MY BOOK THE ENTIRE DAY, VOTING, AND LEAVING COMMENTS. I ENJOYED RECEIVING EVERY NOTIFICATION I RECEIVED FROM YOU. THANKS FOR THE SUPPORT!!!! TO THE REST OF MY READERS, PLEASE CONTINUE TO VOTE< COMMENT< AND SHARE. OH, I ALSO CHANGED THE COVER. TELL ME WHAT YOU GUYS THINK. TAKE CARE, AND AGAIN I LOVE ALL THE SUPPORT!!!!!

"It is not death but dying, which is terrible." Henry Fielding

Death is a universal process that we all will experience one day. But dying, dying is something much worse. Slipping away from life, quite frankly, is a bitch. See, death is a permanent peaceful solution. There is nothing after it. It's dying to get to that death that's the problem. I never thought about how I would depart this world, but let me tell you, I would rather have a quick, easy death than a slow, painful one.

And when things are done out of rage and incompetence, it's sloppy. When Miranda stabbed me with the dagger, it wasn't a precise, calculated hit that would have ended my life quickly and painlessly. No, this was done in the heat of a moment. The wound she created was painful beyond words, and I'm no doctor, but it felt like she cut every organ, tissue, and blood vessel in my stomach. The pain was beyond comprehension. My back glided down the wall after she plunged the knife deeper into the soft tissues of my flesh.

I closed my eyes, all the energy seeming to vanish from my body. There was a vague sense of lingering detachment inside me, but the pain and burning sensation accompanied by the wound kept me aware. Kept me here. You know, the stories you hear of dying and seeing a white light, being at peace, drifting off into a heavenly place? That's some bullshit. I didn't see a fucking thing; the consensus was nowhere near, nor did I feel like going to some heavenly place.

Darkness was all that I saw. Fear was all that I felt. And the only place that mattered was the place I was dying in. A disturbing thought surfaced in my pain-stricken brain while I lay on the floor in a puddle of blood with tears running down my face. For the first time since meeting Elijah, I truly regretted it. I wished I had never gone to that stupid party. Saw his stupid sexy face. Kissed his annoyingly tasty lips. I regretted falling in love with his ridiculously adorable ass.

I could have been studying, taking my midterms, and preparing for college. I could have been with my mother, sitting around a fire, drinking hot cocoa, and playing a board game. Maybe, even just lounging around in my pajamas watching one of my favorite shows or reading a book. Instead, I'm dying on a spotless porcelain floor at the hands of a murderous wench. I willed myself to open my eyes and crawl for help, but I saw her pacing back and forth in a psychotic manner.

"Fuck, Fuck, Fuck. Calm down; you need to get rid of Helena's body and get the fuck out here." She mumbled erratically.

I struggled to talk, but the blood blocking my airway was an obstacle.

"Miranda, you have to get me help. Just get me to a hospital, and I will never return here." I tried reasoning with her through mangled breaths.

"No, it's too late. I fucked up badly. The only solution is to delay Elijah's with the search for your body, giving me time to slip away." She narrowed her eyes.

She walks towards me, kicking me in the stomach before spitting on me. Grabbing my legs, she drags me towards the door. All I can feel is pain, regret, and a deep loss. I wished I had never met him just a few minutes ago, but now getting dragged on the cold floor, I realized at that moment all I wanted was to see his face one more time. Just one more time.

Elijah?

I think I'm dying now. The pain is almost gone.

I will find you again.