Ninteen Not Again Harry  

The atmosphere in the grand hall of Pinewood Palace was electric with tension. The pageant had taken a dramatic turn, not just in terms of fashion and beauty but in the personal dramas unfolding between the supernatural elite. As I stood there, basking in the glory of my victory, Harry approached, his eyes pleading, his stance one of desperation.

"Please give me a second, just a second is enough. Baby, you are my everything, my world, my night, my darkness," Harry begged, his voice cracking as he knelt before me, a scene that was too familiar, too rehearsed to move me anymore.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I choose light, however, dark never bothers me in any way. What we had is over," I stated firmly, trying to sidestep him. His tricks, his sweet words, no longer held sway over me; the betrayal was too deep, the wounds too fresh.

"I know I'm wrong, but it was the mating season, and I couldn't control my pheromones. I promise you it was just one time," he lied, his eyes not meeting mine, a clear sign of deceit.

"Another lie... Harry, please stop talking, let me go, it's over, we are done! You are a king; this is for your own good. I always knew this day would come; you are the future of Darker Ville. They all look up to you. I'm afraid you can't have me as your dirty little secret, that too, you cheat on me like that?" My voice was cold, my resolve firm.

"Ivy..." His use of my first name was like salt on an open wound. "Queen Ivy III, how does that sound?" he continued, his tone shifting to one of desperate promise. "I will make you my Queen, I promise, you and I shall rule Darker Ville together. I will do whatever I can to make you my Queen, only you shall be the Queen of Darker Ville." His words, once sweet and intoxicating, now felt hollow, tainted by his actions.

His promises echoed in the vast hall, but they could not undo the betrayal I felt. Not only had he been with the maid, but the revelation that he had been with James in the very tower where we had shared moments, that was the final straw. James, trying to usurp my place while I still breathed, was beyond disrespectful.

"I, Ivy III Charli Eyer, a witch, the descendant of the greatest witch of all times, Martha I, with my ancestors in the underworld; I'm a vampire, the descendant of the greatest man of all times, the evilest creature on Earth, Lord Count Vlad Dracula of Far-Far Away! I call upon my ancestors from the underworld, for I am the chosen one, thou light, thou future, thou life. Even the greatest prophecy of Agrippa, and the prophecy of Banham can prove that!" My voice rose, not just in volume but in power, as the spirits responded to my call. I was possessed, furious, and ready to unleash my wrath.

"He who dares to provoke the queen in her hive shall reap what he sows. The same applies to that omega bitch, he shall spell my name backwards and pay for it!" "Ivy, don't do anything to James, he is innocent. I'm wrong, and I shall pay for it," Harry pleaded, his voice trembling with fear as he saw the dark power manifesting around me.

"Vampy'er! Thou shall not call the witch by her name if she desires not, even in thy wet dreams." The demon within me spoke, and it was clear Harry was terrified, possibly even soiling himself in fear. He had indeed messed with the wrong queen. Turning my attention to James, I was ready to reveal my true colors, the darker side of the queen that no one knew existed. Defeating him and shaming him at his own party wasn't enough; I wanted him to suffer more. His audacity to cross the line, to disrespect me, an omega thinking he could challenge me, was unforgivable. James's party had been effectively ruined, or rather, I had simply put him back in his rightful place - an omega, a low life.

I hated reminding people of their status, but when disrespected, the hierarchy must be enforced. I chose to be the last contestant in the pageant, a strategic move to leave a lasting impression. The competition was fierce, with numerous beautiful participants from both genders, each showcasing their unique allure. But James, despite his effort, disappointed me. He competed in an Ever-more fashion gown, which, while beautiful with its vampire vintage glamour theme, long cut-open sleeves, and a striking white smoke design, was not enough to stand out.

He placed fifth in the final round, a clear sign he was outclassed, especially by the likes of Josh, who took third place, possibly there to support me. And what of me, the queen? I clinched the gold medal, the undeniable beauty queen of the night. I hadn't considered a career in modeling, but that night, I proved I could excel. My attire was from Madison Mitchell's latest collection, the Ever-night black and blue gown - a regal piece with white fabric accentuating the chest and composing the skirt, the sleeves puffed with lines of white, sheer lace covering the collarbone, an ornate accessory at the neck, and a single chain dangling to accentuate the black flaps of fabric.

The waist was adorned with glittering midnight blue, embodying the very essence of Ivy - dark, mysterious, yet undeniably queenly. As I stood there, the applause echoing around me, I knew this was more than a victory in beauty; it was a declaration of my power, my resilience, and my rightful place at the top. Harry's pleas, James's schemes, they were nothing in the face of my heritage, my strength, and the undeniable truth that I was the mother fucking queen in midnight blue.