Patient B-2

Chapter Nineteen: Wrath

"But do you think she's okay?" Cierien's question hangs in the air once more, cutting through the fragile calm with its raw honesty, demanding to be addressed despite our mutual reluctance to confront the horrific possibilities.

"I don't know, Cier. But I do know that she's alive. Our girl is breathing right now, somewhere close to us, and we're going to find her," I reassure him, the determination in my voice tempered with a hint of vulnerability.

"She's breathing... Our girl is breathing," he echoes my words, his tone laced with disbelief and a flicker of hope. "We're going to get her back."

"We're going to get her back," I affirm, the words a solemn vow between us.

He nestles closer against my neck, his gaze fixed on the photograph clutched in my hand. The uncertainty of what lies ahead lingers between us, but one thing remains certain: when we find her, we'll do whatever it takes to reclaim her, to make her ours once more.

"We'll figure it out," I murmur softly, my voice laced with determination and a hint of desperation. "Whatever it takes. I'll do anything."

"We'll do anything," he states, pressing a kiss beneath my jaw.

Since Idalia first sauntered her way through our door, delivering the most mystifying, yet simultaneously exhilarating and gut-wrenching news I've ever heard, our progress has been minimal. The fact that our girl is alive brings a mix of relief and anguish; we don't need to articulate it, we both know she's suffering. Cierien's question hangs in the air, but there's no need for words when we both understand the grim reality. We've endured centuries of such atrocities; we possess an intimate knowledge of what takes place within those facilities.

Idalia has completely commandeered the living room, surprising us further by fashioning a makeshift bed and declaring her intention to stay with us until we retrieve Avalyn. We had no say in the matter, but I suppose it's prudent to keep her close in case any information about Avalyn's whereabouts surfaces.

Idalia hasn't divulged much beyond the revelation that Avalyn is alive, now living as a fully transitioned vampire. We've gleaned that her parents manipulated her blood, leading to her transformation after death. Yet, there's a torrent of unanswered questions swirling within me. I yearn to understand why she departed, what she's become, and what drives her now. It's as if Idalia relishes keeping us in the dark, withholding crucial insights into Avalyn's new existence and identity, leaving us to ponder and speculate in our uncertainty.

I can't help but think Avalyn left because of us. Cierien told me what Sophie said, or really confirmed- their intentions to depart that fateful night. The thought gnaws at me, fueled by a mix of anger and hurt. But now, with Avalyn transformed into a vampire, I can only imagine the weight of that decision on her shoulders. She turned to Idalia, of all people, for guidance and support- the only other vampire she knew. It stings to realize that she felt more at ease with Idalia than with us, her supposed lovers. We failed her- betrayed her trust. Yet, despite the bitterness that churns within me, I understand her choice.

But I refuse to let her slip away again. I'm not mentally equipped to endure such loss once more. Avalyn will return to us, whether by her own volition or by our relentless pursuit. I'll chase her down to the ends of the earth if need be. That much, I swear.

I'm dead set on proving to her that I'm worth it- that there's a side of me that she's never seen, yet is reserved just for her. I can be better; I will be better. I know I screwed up- big time, the mother of all screw-ups. I've got a mountain to climb to earn back her trust and I'll hike that damn mountain- sprint it even. Because deep down, I'm convinced we're meant for each other; I just have to prove it to her.