Malachai Parker wasn't the only person to massacre his family. Along with him was Isabelle Martin, a witch who held his hand along the way, letting him siphon painlessly.
You could say she was as crazy as he. Unable to see the destruction he truly...
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Now
The barn was lined with the writhing bodies of my coven. Blood had stained the walls and floors however, it wasn't even close to my hell. They all looked down on me, but it was now me above them. I was their leader and they deserved this.... they all did.
Therefore, I took a few moments to savour the tang of iron overpowering the floral aroma. Right before me was the greatest opportunity and I just had to rip it from their grasp. But, then she came like the warmest vision.
She rested her head on my shoulder while we laid before the fireplace. The heretics we're away and left us to our own devices, some that were oh-so familiar. Her chestnut curls were scattered across my chest as her fingers traced idle patterns up and down my torso. In seconds, I was wrapped around her little finger once again.
All that filled the air was silenced pants and the odd drop of sweat decorating her heated form. She kissed, touched, and breathed life into every inch of my body. She was a witch after all while I was a siphoner.
Then suddenly, she had to ruin it all.
With nothing to spur such a thought, she sat up and began to speak.
"Did you ever think everything could be different?" she questioned before pulling her hair to the side. Meanwhile, I followed after her and began to press soft kisses across her shoulder.
"I don't understand Isabelle",
"Well... I'm technically thirty four, you're forty. I just thought I would have kids by now... I missed out on so much Malachai. And now I know what I want to do" she said while turning. Her expression held a brightness but her eyes told otherwise. They were dark, uncertain... Cautious.
"And what would that be?",
"I want a family... A husband, children; that white picket fence" She continued further.
"What about me then?" I questioned. My heart was secretly jumping from my chest, hoping she would say yes, of course you will be there... But, she didn't.
"What about you, Mal?"
"We could've had that, we could have-"
"And you trying to kill me was supposed to say that? Don't think I'm stupid Malachai, I saw the knife-" She released a deep, shaky breath, "- I've changed, you've change Mal. We need to move on".
Anger couldn't help, it ripped at my heart and tore my hopes to pieces. Isabelle Martine had made and broke my life in a matter of seconds. Her voice was soft and possessed a tone that held a drawl which had me always coming back. However, now I knew what her eyes held.
Fear.
She feared that I wouldn't let her go. That I would have her beside me and never release her. And I would've... If it wasn't her.
"Fine then! Do what you want but don't expect me to take you when you come crawling back" I exclaimed, throwing her clothes her way before standing face to face with those ocean orbs.
