His To Possess ✔️

Broken

A year and a half later 

Eira's pov.

I unlock the door of my apartament and step inside, taking my father's jacket off. I'm glad I grabbed it as Keenan and I rushed out of our old house. Sometimes I can still catch a faint smell of my home back in the village or even my father himself. 

I take my shoes off, lock the door, drop my small backpack in the corner and go to light a fireplace in the living room. Cozy flames starts flickering, instantly relaxing me. I sink in the armchair in front of the hearth. It's my favorite place in this apartament.

It was a tiresome day at the hotel today. A lot of calls to receive, a lot of guests coming and going... Of couse, I was thankful for my job as a receptionist, it helped to cover our bills and bring food on the table. I even made some friends there, but damn, being always polite to the customers was sometimes excruciatingly hard. I was never the one who's good at faking smiles.

I sighed and closed my eyes for a while, enjoying the warmth. It was November now and the weather was already too cold for my liking. I should buy something nice and warm to wear...

I sat like that, waiting for Keenan to come back home from his little bakery shop. He managed to wisely invest the money and now he had his own business. It didn't bring us big profit yet, but we had a nice roof over our heads and Keenan was happy. I was happy for him too.

We haven't heard anything about our mother since we fled. But how could we? She didn't know where we were and if she knew... I doubt she'd try to contact us. Somehow, I made myself think my mother was dead. Maybe it was easier this way.

For the past year and a half, I tried to forget the horrors I had to endure. At this point, I manage to finally sleep through the night, to not think about his fangs sinking in my flesh, his bloody face, his beatings every second of the day. I can finally look in the mirror again. 

The mark where he bit me is ugly, jagged. I used to cover it up with tons of makeup. Now, I don't bother. Now, it reminds me that I survived. It tells a story about my strenght, my weakness, my pain. And every time I come back home after a shitty day, I glance at the scar and remember that I survived so much worse. 

Sometimes I think about him. I wonder what had happened there that night I left. What did he do? Did he try to find me? Is he still trying? Or maybe... Just maybe, he gave up. Maybe he has already forgotten me. Maybe he even died. I hope he did.

I am woken from my thoughts by the jiggling door handle. God damn, Keenan forgot his keys again... I get up rolling my eyes and go to the door to unlock it for him, but I do not reach it - the door flies off  it's hinges.

I freeze up. No. No no no no no. This is not happening. It's just my mind doing stupid things. It can't be him. I ran away, I escaped.

But then, he steps inside.

He looks even more terrifying than I remember. He is bigger, more muscular now. His ivory hair, once shortly cut, was now in a bun. He grew a beard, too. He looks like a damn viking now, ready to kill. 

But the worst is his eyes. I remember them being icy blue, almost white. And now, I swear they were pitch black. It was not the man's eyes, but the beast's. And he came to get me.

He slowly steps towards me, his shoes leaving dirty trail on my beloved cream rug, his eyes never leaving mine. I was frozen in fear. The only thing I could think about was if my Keenan was still alive. I knew the monster would kill him for what I've done. He told me that before.

Suddenly, he starts to speak, eerily calmly. ''You played me well, Eira. You played me well.'' He takes another step towards me. ''You ran fast that night. Even I couldn't catch you''. Another step. ''Good thing I had one of my men patroling near your village. But you killed him.'' He takes the final step and now is standing right in front of me. ''You shot him straight to the head.''