Ettore | ✔️

𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒚-𝑻𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆

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𝑻𝒖𝒓𝒃𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒕

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VINDICATIO sat reclined in a luxury seat, the others seated on their own. They had been waiting for Syretia to board to the plane for a little while now. The Pilot sat in the cabin diligently awaiting the go-head for takeoff. There was a flight attendant that made her self known for only a moment to pass out beverages. They were paid to be there practically 24/7 by Salvatore, they too, were werewolves.

Vindicatio held a flute of champagne in his hand, he never had tried it. Ettore had sipped it during celebrations but Vindicatio wanted to try it himself. He lifted the glass to his lips and tipped it up, taking a swig. As he swallowed the champagne, his eyes went instantly to the door of the plane as footsteps were heard against the metal steps. Syretia entered the plane, looking more at ease than she had been. That made him sit up in his seat, readying himself to receive her in his arms.

Instead, the flute shattered in his hand the moment his head popped into the plane behind Syretia. Syretia let out a gasp as she watched the thin shards of glass go flying across the floor. The flight attendant was quick to sweep up the mess, thankful that the majority of the beverage was gone. Vindicatio opened his balled fist, pieces of glass stuck in his bloodied hand. He began to pluck out the shards, his composure was calm, "what is he doing here?"

"He's taking Welma's place," Syretia said quietly, grimacing as Vindicatio pulled out another shard of glass.

"And what does taking her place entail?"

"Keeping her safe," Darrin cut in, everyone's eyes were on him. Vindicatio chuckled under his breath, saying nothing as he shook his head. Silence fell upon everyone before Vindicatio spoke:

"Brilliant, a werewolf providing more protection than a lycan. Then let's get going now that we're all safe and protected," Vindicatio stated sarcastically as he watched as Moki and Chaska ushered Salvatore to the cockpit to alert the pilot that it was time for takeoff. They shortly returned and sat Salvatore into a chair, strapping him in before sitting down on their own.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it's time for takeoff. If you have not done so now, please take a seat and strap in, thank you." The pilot's voice filtered through the intercom before cutting off.

"Syretia," Vindicatio said as he gestured to the seat beside him. "Sit next to me." It wasn't a suggestion it was a demand. Syretia hadn't seen him act this way thus far, he seemed tense and angry. 

Syretia obliged, planting herself into the plush seat. Her small hands reached for the seatbelt before two large, tan hands entered her view and clasped the buckle together. Her eyes met Vindicatio's, his face was in close proximity. A lazy smile graced his lips before he pulled away, buckling himself in, his eyes never leaving hers, "did you really need to bring him," his eyes skirted in the direction of Darrin who was seated by Odessa. 

"Yes, he's my tie to Welma," Syretia replied, glancing out the window. 

"I'm your mate, Syretia," Vindicatio retorted, "We were made for each other. I was born to be your protector, your --"

"You say this stuff as though I understand what it means," Syretia fiddled with her fingers. "All I know is that we have some type of connection. You're a practically a stranger to me, Vindicatio."

"You wouldn't be saying that if you were a werewolf like the others," he stated under his breath. "You wouldn't've needed another male to 'protect' you, and we'd be inseparable. I know you feel something Syretia, why are you letting that human brain of yours deter you? Salvatore was right, you humans will never understand."