EPISODE 6

KEILAH

The thug grinned at the two other men in the room, and with a nod, they closed in on either side of him, sharing the same vile smirk. The air in the room grew thick with menace as they followed his lead. Then he turned his gaze back to me, his hand already tugging at his belt, slipping it from the loops of his pants with a menacing swish and a new wave of panic crashed into me. I knew exactly what that bastard was up to.

"Yes," he said, his voice low and malicious, "exactly what you're thinking. Why don't me and my boys have a little fun before you get the proper beating you wanted?”

My mind screamed at me to move, to get up and fight back, but my body betrayed me. My legs were numb, heavy with pain, and I couldn’t summon the strength to stand. I tried to push myself up, but I collapsed back onto the cold floor, my entire body aching from the earlier beating.

He unzipped his pants as he walked over to me, kneeling down to force my legs apart. I clenched my teeth, trying to use what little strength I had left in my legs to kick him off, but it was useless. My body was failing me, and the sickening feeling of helplessness gnawed at my core.

He slapped me again, harder this time, the impact snapping my head to the side as pain exploded across my cheek. His hand closed around my throat, choking the air from my lungs. "You wanted this so badly, bitch?" he growled, his face inches from mine. "Now behave yourself and take it."

I gasped for breath, my vision going dark as his grip tightened. When he finally released me, I coughed, my throat burning, desperate for air. He grinned wickedly, his fingers at the edges of my pants, tugging them down.

But before he could go any further, before he could finish what he’d started, his body was suddenly yanked off me. One second he was looming over me, and the next, he was flying across the room so violently that when he collided with the wall, it cracked under the force. The suddenness of it left me dazed.

My fingers trembled as I scrambled to pull my pants back up, my mind still reeling. When I looked up, the two other men were already down, lying motionless on the floor like discarded dolls.

The last guy standing was slammed down next, collapsing like a potato sack, his body limp.

I blinked, trying to make sense of what had just happened. And then, when the figure who had saved me turned around, my breath caught in my throat. It was him. Damien. His presence filled the room like a storm, dark and unforgiving. My heart skipped a beat as he approached, his expression dark, his eyes glowing red.

"Is it in your DNA to attract trouble you cannot win?" His voice was low, controlled, but there was an edge to it that sent a shiver down my spine.

I froze in place as he knelt beside me. He didn’t ask if I was okay, didn’t even offer a comforting word. He simply reached down, scooping me up into his arms as if I weighed nothing. Then, in the blink of an eye, everything around us blurred. The world rushed past in a whirlwind as we moved through the air, faster than I could comprehend, as if the wind itself carried us.

Finally, we stopped in part of the forest. Damien landed me gently on the ground, but my mind was still reeling, buzzing too much to make sense of what had just happened. The world felt like it was spinning, and my body gave out before I could gather my strength. I crumpled down to my knees, my breath uneven, my limbs trembling. By the time Damien reached out to help me, I was already down, and for a second, I couldn't move. Damien reached out his hand to pull me up, but before he could touch me, I snapped.

"I'm fine," I said, my voice sharp, more out of panic than anything else. My hand shot up in front of me like a barrier. "Please, just… move back.”

I needed space. Space to breathe, to think, to feel something other than the terror still racing through my veins.

He stopped, his red eyes locking onto mine with a look I couldn't quite read. His face was wild, almost unrecognisable, with overgrown hair and a thick beard that made him look like he had been living in the wilderness for months.

"I mean it. Put some distance between us," I added, my voice quieter, more pleading than commanding this time.

Damien took a step back, then another. The tension between us thickened as he finally gave me what I asked for. But it didn’t matter. I still couldn’t breathe right.

"What the hell were you doing in a place like that?" he asked, voice low but edged with frustration.

I ignored him as I tried to pull myself up. My body felt like it had been shattered and hastily put back together—legs weak, arms shaky, everything aching. I gripped the rough bark of the tree, using it to steady myself, the cold biting into my skin but grounding me. It wasn’t enough to stop the storm building inside me, though.

No, this wasn’t about what just happened. It was about so much more.

I shot him a look, anger bubbling to the surface. "No," I said, my voice trembling with fury, "it’s me who has questions."

His brows furrowed in confusion, but I didn’t give him a chance to interrupt.

"What the fuck did you do this to me?" The words rushed out of me, sharp like knives. The question that had been festering for so long finally spilling out.

He stared at me, silent.

"Why did your mark return after all this time?" I demanded, louder this time, my voice cracking slightly at the end. My heart was pounding with anger.

Damien’s eyes darkened, the red glow in his irises dimmed, but the intensity didn’t leave. He was thinking, calculating, trying to find the right words.

“Answer me,” I spat out, my grip on the tree tightening. My body was shaking, from pain, from fear, from the weight of everything. I want to know why—why after all these years, after everything, I am still bound to you?

Damien raked his hand through his thick, unruly hair, looking like he wanted to tear at it. His silence was deafening, the pause stretching out so long I thought he wasn’t going to answer me at all. But then, finally, he spoke, his voice low, almost as if he was talking more to himself than to me.

“I think… it happened because of the dark magic that was sent toward you.”

I blinked, confusion mixing with the simmering anger inside me. Dark magic? What was he talking about?

I stepped forward, despite the trembling in my legs, despite the exhaustion weighing me down. “What do you mean, dark magic? Are you saying someone—” My voice cracked, and I swallowed hard before continuing. “—someone tried to curse me?”

His gaze snapped back to mine, something darker and heavier than guilt reflected in his eyes. “Yes.” He took a breath, clearly reluctant to say more. “The person after you… is powerful, Keilah. The kind of power that lingers in the air, that warps the bond between us.”

“What kind of bond are you even talking about?” I snapped, the frustration bubbling up in my chest. “We’re not mates, Damien. There’s no bond between us. You’re a vampire, not a werewolf. So what the hell do you mean by bond?”

The word tasted bitter in my mouth. Bond. As if we were somehow tethered together, like fate had decided to weave our lives into a tangled mess I couldn’t escape. It made no sense, and I wasn’t about to pretend it did.

Damien’s expression didn’t change, but I saw the flicker of something behind his eyes—regret, maybe? Or frustration? Whatever it was, it didn’t make me feel any better.

“The bond has nothing to do with being mates,” he said slowly, like he was trying to make me understand something I clearly wasn’t getting. “This isn’t about werewolf instincts or mate rituals. It’s something… different.”

“Different how?” I challenged, folding my arms as I glared at him. “Because right now, it sounds like you’re just making up excuses.”

He raked his hand through his hair again, clearly agitated. “It’s not an excuse, Keilah. The bond was created the moment I marked you, when I bit you. That bite tied us together in ways I didn’t fully understand at the time.”

“Marked me?” I repeated, the words feeling like ice down my spine. “That was years ago, Damien. The mark faded. You disappeared. It was over.”

“I thought it was too,” he muttered, shaking his head. “But apparently, the magic—this dark magic—is using that mark to reawaken the connection. Whether you believe it or not, it’s real.”

I took a step back, feeling the weight of his words settle over me. “So, what? You’re saying I’m cursed because of you?”

“No,” he said, his voice sharp. “You’re not cursed because of me. You’re cursed because someone is targeting you, and they’re using our connection to do it.”

The frustration in his voice mirrored mine, but it didn’t make it easier to swallow. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. A bond? Between a vampire and me? This wasn’t how it was supposed to work.

I let out a long sigh, trying to make sense of what he was saying. “Alright, I get it,” I said, though the truth was I didn’t—not even close. My mind was spinning, and every word that left his mouth felt like it was dragging me deeper into a mess I hadn’t asked for. “Just—can you tell me who this person is? The one so desperate to drag me back into a world I left behind a long time ago?”

“It’s the werewolf council’s witch,” he said, his voice low, almost as if he didn’t want the words to linger in the air any longer than necessary.

I blinked, my mind racing to keep up with this news. “The council’s witch?” I repeated, disbelief coating every word. “Why would the council’s witch want anything to do with me?”