Chapter Forty-Eight - Melora

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Melora pulled the mask over her mouth and nose as they walked out of the cave and over to the horses. She hated the sun. It was way to bright for her eyes, almost causing a splitting headache to form in her head. Drystan wraps a strong arm around her waist, placing her on the horse before climbing up behind her.

"Close your eyes if the sun is to much for you, Melora," Drystan voice mumbled next to her ear. "It takes years to get your body adjusted to the light."

"Does your skin not hurt anymore?" she asked him as she leaned against his chest.

Drystan chuckled low. "I won't lie to you, my love. Yes, my skin still hurts but nothing compared to what it was when I was first turned." He pressed a soft kiss to the side of her neck, against her pulse. "My eyes have adjusted to the brightness of the sun. My skin still burns, but not as bad. Eventually you will be able to look around as I do."

Melora allowed herself to relax against him. She could still feel his pain at not being able to protect her the way a mate should protect what's his. Her heart hurt knowing that she couldn't lessen his pain. No matter what she said or did to reassure him that none of this was his fault, the heavy feeling of guilt she felt in his chest never went away. Melora couldn't wait for the day of peace to come to the both. She was ready to not feel fear and be at peace. She wanted that promise Drystan had given her; that they would live far away from everyone. Finally alone.

Melora hated what her father had done to both of them. Anger began to well up in her chest. Drystans arm tightened around her waist. "You need to stop thinking about your father and his decisions, Melora. I understand that what he did hurt you, but you cannot dwell on it. He made his decision out of greed, maybe one day he'll figure out his mistake."

Melora shook her head. "He won't. He's always been motivated by money. You witnessed the extravagant parties that he would put on when he decided that he was going to sell me off."

"I hated every minute of those parties," Drystan growled. "Those parties were torturous." His lips brushed her left ear. "It was torturous for me to look at how he dressed you and how the other men ogled at you. Like you were meat."

Melora breathed in deeply. She slowly opened her eyes, taking in the world around them. Trees surrounded them on both sides, green and lush. Strands of sunlight fell through the gaps of leaves, giving them just enough light to see through the dark forest. Although, she figured that still wasn't a problem for Drystan. She was still learning how to hone her new abilities, but she was determined to learn fast. Straining her ears, she could hear the sounds of small animals moving through the lush forest. Birds chirped in the trees above them, calling out to each other in their song. They were completely unaware of the predators that moved around them. They were entirely at peace. Melora leaned her head back against his shoulder and took another deep breath, smelling all the different scents around her.

She sat up quickly at the smell of sharp iron. Blood. Melora looked up at Drystan and noticed his eyes darting back and forth. His body suddenly rigid and on alert. Something was out there, dripping its life essence all over the forest ground. Melora's fangs lengthened, unable to control them. Drystan's arm tightened around her waist, keeping her in place.

"Control yourself, Melora," Drystan whispered in her ear. She closed her eyes, working on forcing her fangs back. "We are close to the encampment, Melora. Other members of our kind hut in the daylight."

"Shouldn't we be able to detect others like us?" she strained to ask him.

She felt Drystan's shoulders shrug. "It depends on the vampires age."

"What do you mean?"

"Our powers become stronger the older that we become," he began to explain. She was extremely thankful for him answering her questions. She needed a distraction as she could feel her body begin to relax. "Someone who has trained their mind for decades can conceal themselves from others."

"Are you able to do that?"

"Yes," Drystan answered. "I don't do it often. I have used it to hunt; makes it easier."

"Hm," Melora hummed. She tilted her head up and watched her mates face. "Why don't you do it often? Wouldn't it make getting around much easier?"

Drystan nodded. "It would, but I don't like to use it. I believe the ones who do use it are closer to the coming darkness than they would admit. They use it to hide from their own kind so it would be harder to hunt them."

Melora wrapped her arms around herself. "Do you think Dante will be hard to hunt?" Her eyes snapped over to where Dante was riding a little ways in front of them. She had made sure to keep her voice as low as she could. She didn't want Dante knowing that they were talking about his possible future.

Honestly, Drystan sighed in her head. I believe that he would be extremely difficult to hunt. I know that he's been fighting the darkness for several decades now.

How much longer do you think he might have?

We never know, Melora, Drystan sighed. It could be soon or even another century before he turns. We can only hope that he will find his other half before he turns.

Dante suddenly slowed down his horse to walk beside them. His eyes mover over the both of them suspiciously as if he suspected that they were talking about him. "We will be coming up on the camp soon," he spoke gruffly. "Then it will be a waiting game on when Alathic will strike."

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