Secrets in Blood

^

"I would like that," she blushed.

Orson smiled, pleased. After the guests left and the mansion quieted, he returned to his chambers where Hilda stood near the open window, watching the stars.

"You're back," she smiled, her eyes reflecting the starlight.

"Your coach is gone," he said softly.

"My family—" she started, but he cut her off.

"Handled," Orson murmured, suddenly standing inches from her.

"Vampire speed," she whispered in awe.

He leaned in, his breath hot on her neck, placing soft kisses there until a gentle moan escaped her lips.

"Ready?" he whispered.

She nodded.

In one smooth motion, he lifted her into his arms and laid her on the bed. He slipped off her shoes and stockings, placing kisses along her legs, his hands steady and reverent.

Then, with a flick of his fingers, her gown vanished.

"What—?" she blinked, startled.

"They're in the closet," he replied, eyes never leaving her.

Heat flushed her skin as he took in every inch of her. His mouth found her breast, and he worshiped her body like she was something sacred. When his fingers trailed down between her thighs and his mouth followed, she gasped and surrendered to his touch completely.

⸻

The next morning, Hilda awoke beside Orson. She smiled, brushing a hand across his cheek.

"You're awake," he said, kissing her forehead.

"I love you, Orson," she whispered.

He kissed her lips gently. "I love you more."

⸻

Days Later

"What's wrong with her?" a woman asked, voice trembling.

The physician lowered her eyes. "She's pregnant."

The woman gasped and stormed into the room. Hilda lay awake, her hand resting on her stomach.

"You're pregnant?" her mother hissed.

"Yes," Hilda said, her face calm, radiant even.

"You've ruined everything! What will people say? A high-society lady with no husband?"

"I'm expecting a child," she said with a soft smile. "And I'm happy."

"Who is the father?"

"He's someone I cherish," Hilda replied, her voice unwavering.

Just then, her father entered, a storm in his eyes. Two men followed behind him.

"Bring the peasant who thinks he can shame my house," he barked.

"He's not a peasant," Hilda snapped, standing.

"I'm ashamed of you," her father said coldly, turning his back.

Her brothers said nothing. They followed their father out of the room without a word.

"I love him," she whispered to the silence.

⸻

Back in the present...

"My grandfather turned you?" Aurora's voice trembled.

"They were close," Constance explained. "Orson's first companion when he came into existence was Mateo. But Mateo didn't know then that he was the first vampire...created by the devil himself."

"She's right," Mateo admitted quietly, his eyes on the floor. He reached out and gently took Aurora's hand, trying to ground her.

"That's why Mateo holds more power than other vampires," Constance added.

Mateo stood. "Thanks for your help, Constance. We'll take it from here."

He pulled Aurora to her feet and walked out.

Aurora glanced back, unsettled by Mateo's sudden coldness. Constance didn't look offended. Instead, she wore a sad, knowing smile.

Outside the hospital, Aurora yanked her hand away.

"What was that back there?" she snapped. "You kept shutting me out!"

"There are some things better left unknown," Mateo said quietly, eyes dark with restraint.

"Don't say that to me!" she hissed. "How can you keep things from me when they clearly affect my life? Don't I deserve to know?"

Mateo's jaw clenched. "Stop worrying about what doesn't concern you."

Aurora's eyes welled with frustrated tears. "Not my concern? These secrets—these lies...they're crawling into my life like shadows I can't escape!"

She turned and walked away furiously. Mateo said nothing.

She walked a long distance alone, refusing to call a taxi, until—

He appeared before her.

"You didn't call for a ride," he said, calm as ever, hands in his pockets.

"None of your business," she muttered, brushing past him.

She stopped a taxi and got in, slamming the door shut before he could say another word.

⸻

The world blurred. When she looked around again, she wasn't on the road. She was somewhere else—some time else.

A woman in a blue gown stood watering flowers in front of an old house. Aurora recognized her.

Mateo's mother.

"Mateo," she called softly.

Young Mateo appeared, quiet and cold-faced as always.

"Where's Jen?" the woman asked.

"Still sleeping," he replied.

"Have you heard from Mr. Orson?"

"No," he said, frowning.

"Lady Hilda hasn't been found either," his mother murmured.

"Don't worry yourself about others' business," he replied with quiet protectiveness.

Just then, little Jennifer ran out, laughing, her curly hair bouncing.

"What are you two talking about?" she chirped.

A tall man approached—the magistrate. Two guards flanked him.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Faure," the man greeted.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Fisher," she said, eyes narrowing.

"Your son has been summoned. He's wanted for questioning in the case of the missing Lady Hilda."

Aurora froze.

Mateo turned to his mother. "I'll be back."

"No one's going to stop him?" Jennifer asked, wide-eyed.

But the only answer was silence.