Chapter 117: Childhood Memories
However, when Hazel lifted her head, she found Hawthorne standing right in front of her.
“You’re much stronger than you appear,” Hawthorne said.
“Yeah, well…”
“I get it. The title of ‘queen’ carries a lot of weight.” He said only this, without adding phrases like “take it easy” or “everything will be okay.” Hazel knew he understood the painful choices within her.
He simply held her tightly.
After a while, Hazel sank into his tenderness. She sniffled while apologizing, remembering her previous outburst during the battle when she tore Hawthorne’s sleeve.
“It’s okay; I’m fully recovered,” Hawthorne seemed to read Hazel’s thoughts.
“You know, when we were kids, we used to play these competitive games together. Back then, you weren’t as reserved as you are now.” He softly shared stories from the past, as if the distance between him and Hazel had suddenly narrowed.
“I told you a long time ago, Hazel. We are destined to be together forever.” Hawthorne’s gaze wandered, staring into the dark distance as if lost in thought. “Your father died, vanished in the flames. However, he only wished for his race to gain recognition and immortality. Our kind is forever condemned to the darkness. What kind of world is this, where different races should be treated so differently? If this is the true face of the world, then why not destroy everything and let darkness reign?”
Hawthorne’s voice seemed to come from afar. He spoke in one breath, then calmed down, looking at Hazel.
“Do you understand what I’m saying, right?”
“I’m not entirely sure, but, Hawthorne,” Hazel didn’t want to dwell on the meaning of his words, but she could feel Hawthorne’s sorrow. “In my world, vampires didn’t exist before. I didn’t even know there was vampire blood in me. Since I came here and spent these days with Claud, I seem to understand the challenges of being a vampire. I’m starting to grasp my identity…”
“But I can’t be completely sure which side I belong to. I belong to no one.” Hazel looked into his sparkling heterochromatic eyes, feeling a complex mix of emotions as she remembered Cyril’s face.
Hawthorne looked at Hazel’s uncertain expression, and his eyes softened more than usual. He knew Hazel still held memories of him.
At that time, Hazel was brought by her father to a gorgeously decorated room. In front of her was a luxurious white coffin adorned with layers of lotus leaf edges. White curtains poured down from the top of the coffin, and fringed lace created a beautiful curve. Next to the coffin was a small bedside table with a gold-plated bedside lamp. The room’s left side held a dressing table with a delicately carved mirror frame and gold-plated drawer handles. On the table were numerous bottles and jars of cosmetics.
Although the room was dim, Hazel’s heart couldn’t help but soften.
She stood in front of the white coffin, seeing Hawthorne for the first time- the black-haired youth with a gentle smile that brought her a hint of warmth. Despite Hazel feeling uneasy in an unfamiliar environment, Hawthorne’s inviting hand inspired her.
Hawthorne took Hazel on a tour of Bran Castle, and it was immense, almost like a city itself. They reached the garden outside the castle, filled with a variety of flowers, including belladonna and other vibrant blooms. The fragrant scent of flowers eased Hazel’s nervousness.
However, her mood quickly shifted as she remembered the chase with Theo in the meadow. Emotions sank, and she accidentally kicked a stone, nearly stumbling.
Just as she was about to fall, Hawthorne instantly appeared by Hazel’s side, catching her.
Hazel couldn’t believe her eyes. Hawthorne had vanished and reappeared beside her. He seemed somehow extraordinary.
“You seem powerful?” Hazel cautiously asked.
“I’m your cousin; of course, I’m powerful, Hazel. When your powers awaken, you might even surpass me.” Hawthorne’s eyes sparkled with a clear light, as if envisioning a future where they stood together in battle.
“Awakened powers?” Hazel questioned inwardly, feeling a hint of fear, her voice trembling slightly.
She sensed something different about herself, but until now, she had been just a happy young she-wolf. She was still quite young, but the dark sky imprinted a sense of loneliness on her heart, even more pronounced. Perhaps it was the destiny she had long been hinted at.
Since leaving her werewolf family, she hadn’t opened up to anyone. She missed her father, Rodther, even though he sometimes looked at her with a strange gaze, as if she were a monster.
“What are you thinking?” Hawthorne touched the ring on her hand, his eyes reflecting Hazel’s face.
“I’m hungry,” Hazel concealed her true feelings, showing an appearance of hunger.
“Then let’s go back.” Hawthorne gently stroked Hazel’s head.
They arrived at the dining hall, where dinner was lavish. Although vampires typically only consumed fresh blood, to appear more human, they also ate regular food, a part of their accustomed human lifestyle.
Grilled steaks, golden shrimp balls, doughnuts, and a rich soup made from animal blood filled the air with tempting aromas.
“What’s this?” Hazel pointed at the animal blood, puzzled.
“Would you like to try? It’s our food.” Hawthorne guided Hazel, lifting a cup of animal blood in front of her. “Taste it; it’s a sweet delicacy.”
Hazel smelled the cup of blood, took a small sip.
Suddenly, a wave of new sensations surged. Though they crawled over Hazel’s heart and brain like ants on a hot pan, she remained captivated by the cup of bright red liquid, recalling the taste from just a moment ago.Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.
“It seems you really like it, whether it’s fresh meat or blood, you’re quite the little foodie.” Hawthorne observed Hazel’s reaction, revealing a slightly pleased smile.
Hazel loved food, but she had never craved blood. She was surprised by everything that had just happened.
Was it fear? Yes. As she began to discover her secrets, she felt fear and disgust towards her bloodthirsty self.
But Hawthorne accepted her in that moment.
She felt that he might be the only person in this cold castle who genuinely treated her with kindness.
Unbeknownst to her, the sun had set, and the restaurant’s air cooled as Hazel finished her meal and returned to the white room. Standing on tiptoes, she gazed out of the window. The distant dense forest looked like coiled beasts, silently howling in the night breeze. In the further city, lights glowed warmly, and distant voices of people could be imagined, but they seemed unrelated to her.
She didn’t know how long she would be trapped in this prison. The man called her father seemed determined to leave her alone here to perish.
As loneliness welled up, and she felt like crying, Hawthorne appeared once again. He picked up a storybook, recounting one vampire tale after another. The Hawthorne in her memories always had a comforting presence, soothing her lonely heart.
Snapping out of her reminiscence, Hazel looked at the vampire before her, once again using the gaze from her childhood. It stirred a complex emotion in Hazel. She had been away from the Pack for almost half a month.
In these past weeks, too much had happened, to the point where she began to doubt herself. Her feelings for herself were now entangled in confusion.