Return to Salem

Bowen pov

The night sky was a mixture of deep purples and blacks as I flew back towards my territory. The sensation of the cool air rushing past my face was exhilarating. There was nothing quite like returning to my true form. As I reached the outskirts of my land, I allowed myself to morph back. My muscles stretched and flexed, relishing the transformation back to my vampiric self. It felt good to be me again.

With vampiric speed, I crossed the final distance to my castle in mere moments. The structure loomed tall and proud. The dark stone walls and Gothic architecture were both intimidating and beautiful, I loved it because it was all mine. This was the place where I held dominion, and my brothers stood as my right-hand men.

Salem. A name that resonated with revolution. It was a place unlike any other, a place where creatures of all kinds could coexist. Vampires, humans, dragons, werewolves, centaurs—any being who sought refuge and a chance for a different life was welcomed here. We were the revolutionaries, the ones who had dared to carve out a new existence after centuries of fear and oppression.

Landing softly on the cobblestone path leading to my castle, I observed the city I had built. The streets were alive with activity, even at this late hour.

In the distance, I noticed a human female conversing with a vampire. She was not afraid of being bitten, nor did she display any signs of discomfort. In Salem, biting anyone without their permission warranted a heavy punishment. The offending vampire would lose their fangs equal to a fairy losing their wings. It was a severe but necessary rule to maintain the peace and trust within our city.

Despite the superiority of vampires, I had always maintained that we must not trample on others. Superiority did not grant us the right to oppress others. Anyone who dwelled in Salem was under my protection, and my word was law.

As I walked through the streets, I was greeted with respect and admiration. The inhabitants knew who I was and what I represented. To some, I was a savior; to others, a fearsome ruler. My reputation as a bloodthirsty vampire was well-earned. I had a voracious appetite for blood, but I was not without a heart. The people I killed were those who stood in my way, those who needed to be made examples of. It was a harsh reality, but one that made sure there was order and obedience in the city.

As I approached the castle gate, I was met by a familiar, frowning face. Meriona was waiting for me, her expression making it clear that she had been looking for me, only to be told that I was unavailable. The sight of her standing there, arms crossed and lips pursed, was a stark contrast to the welcoming glow of the castle behind her.

Meriona was a striking figure, her beauty undeniable even to those who might resent her presence. Her red eyes gleamed with a mixture of annoyance and desire, and her black hair framed her pale face perfectly. Tonight, she wore a gown so small that her cleavage seemed on the verge of spilling out, a calculated move, no doubt, to capture my attention.

She pouted, her voice tinged with petulance as she said, "I was hoping to see you."

I studied her face. Was it my imagination, or did she seem less beautiful today? Meriona had always been the most enchanting of my three mistresses. Her allure was what had drawn me to her initially. But now, something had shifted.

"You have seen me now. What do you have for me?" I asked, my tone more curt than I intended.

Meriona moved closer, wrapping her arms around me, her breasts pressing against my chest. She whispered, "I have missed you. "