Almara’s Pov“How was the interview?” Arthur asks when he returns home from work. His black fitted training tee hugs his muscles perfectly. I’m sitting on the front porch of my parents' house with a glass of cheap wine. Grace is asleep and my parents are out with some friends.Until Arthur walked up the driveway, the view was mediocre compared to our view back at his parents' house. Over there are rolling hills, dazzling stars, and woods peaking out in the distance.Here is a neighborhood where the houses are piled too closely together like each one is trying to not get trampled and stand taller than the one next to it, blocking the view of the sky.Growing up I always appreciated the pack-like feel, but now that I’ve had a taste of open field it’s hard going back. I take a long sip of my wine and force myself to swallow. I’m a little tipsy by now and still the flavor is just as bad.“About as good as this wine.” I say tilting the glass and letting some of the liquid spill out onto th
Almara’s PovOne year exactly has passed since Arthur, Grace, and I moved in with my parents. They have been generous enough to not once ask when we were leaving, to be honest I think they like having the extra company. As long as we keep working and show we’re contributing then they’re happy.We’ve even worked out a schedule where they watch Grace as I still go to work at the diner and Arthur goes to work at the training center.The horribleness and initial shock of rea
It’s late at night. Despite that Arthur and I somehow managed to master precisely three sleeping positions for maximum comfort, we can’t fall asleep.You’d think we’d be more excited that our situation seems to be changing, and don’t get me wrong I can’t wait to sleep in a king-sized bed again, but in a way, we’ve fallen into a rhythm. Oddly, even the drudgery of life can become a comfort.“How do you feel about becoming a famous artist?” Arthur asks, stroking my hair. I laugh because even still that idea seems completely ridiculous, even with the opportunity only one good sale away.
Almara’s PovI just finished my latest painting when Arthur entered the room. He has his head down and eyes glued to his phone, which has been his usual posture for the last week ever since Roman said he would be giving Arthur’s share of the funds to Robert.Of course, Robert has been posting every extravagant item he’s purchased, every decadent meal, expensive designer clothing bought, and every other good that money can buy. “Falling into the comparison trap again?” I ask, dunking my brush into a cup of murky water.
Almara’s PovArthur and I are still riding Friday night's high. We’re sitting in the parking lot of the diner which opens in approximately fifteen minutes and Derek is going to start his day off with me quitting.The parking lot is empty except for me and Arthur’s old worn-out car that has served us for the better part of the year, and while anyone on the outside looking in wouldn’t guess it- it feels like we have the whole world and endless possibilities stretched out before us.
Almara’s PovPerhaps I’ve spoken too soon. It’s nearly noon, meaning we’ve been looking for a potential art school to set up shop at for the past six hours and so far the last three places we looked at have rejected us.The first place we looked at used to be an apartment complex, but before that it was a steel-making business. It was a beautiful building with lots of historic character, exposed brick, and industrial accents with metallic spiral staircases and large windows.
Almara’s Pov“It’s coming together.” I hear someone say over the sound of Arthur hammering away. By the last strike of the hammer, I’d say Arthur recognizes the voice and isn’t happy about it.I peak around the side of the building from where I’m leaning on a ladder painting and see Roman standing below us, hands on his hips.He looks out of place in his ten-thousand-dollar tailored jet black suit with midnight blue cufflinks standing among slabs of woo
Almara’s PovOur savings might be depleted, but the school is up and running. Mostly. Arthur and I finished the project six months later than we thought we would and only being able to get so far when my paintings were selling.But finally, it is finished. The final result is a simplistic three-story building with stained glass windows along the edges of the building that give the entire structure a warm glow. Where there isn’t glass there’s Bess-inspired cobblestone. It’s a beautiful combination of rustic and modern.
Almara’s Pov5 Years Later“Cheers,” Arthur sys clinking his mixed drink of vodka and lemonade with my non-alcoholic lemonade. I’m pregnant, again. This pregnancy is completely different than my first two, I actually get to relax. Which is exactly what we’re doing in the manicured garden of our backyard.We sit stretched out on zero-gravity pool chairs, sweat
Almara’s PovAfter a much-needed week of rest and restoration, Arthur and I are back on the vampire territory. I suppose that it can officially be called that again now that it has been reclaimed.My body healed magnificently after months of not only growing another being, but also fighting a war. It’s amazing what good rest and proper nutrition can do. Of course, the real healing ingredient came from the sacrificial love of my wonderful husband.Even though he suffered his own inju
Almara’s PovFinally, after several journeys back and forth from our homeland to the enemies we come to the final steps. We saw plenty of wolves making their expedition back home and there was a unspoken agreement that what everyone needs right now is peace.Thankfully, no one came up to us with questions, grief, or comments. It’s like we have this new kinship with the gammas in our world that we didn’t before. We seem to understand each other, or at least truly see one another.
Almara’s PovOn the way home we make a pitstop to a very special place. “Why are we seeing more dead bodies?” Grace asks, her tone telling me we are nearing a full-blown tantrum.“This body belongs to someone very important in our family,” I tell her calmly and hike her up on my hip. I’m not sure if my words got through to her, or maybe it’s her father's serenity as we ascend up one final hill to where Bess lays.Bess’s gravestone is set apart fro
Almara’s PovWith the vortex closed off and gone, the air becomes breathable again and the storm lessens. Still, my paws squelch in the wet terrain.Unfortunately, as I look around at the battlefield and see the piles of bodies slumped over one another, I think it’s more than just mud causing the stickiness.I try not to look down at the innocent blood shed on the ground. As I take careful consideration to step over and around the bodies, I tell myself they chose to come out and hel
Almara’s PovCathy and I weave through the castle, barely missing rubble crumbling off from the stony walls. We leap over counters, using everything we have in us to catapult ourselves past knocked over statues of gargoyles and shredded velvet furniture.“Catch!” Cathy calls out and reflexively I snatch a jagged shard of ceramic in my hand. I recognize it from a broken pot on the ground. Then out of the corner of my eye I see something else flying at me, though I don’t catch it this time, I duck.
Almara’s PovI’ve never seen Cathy look more confident and proud than she does at this moment. She stands tall, cuts strewn across her body, but they only add to her tough exterior. She’s covered in her enemy’s blood and she has a thrilling look in her eyes.“Have you seen Arthur?” I ask cutting to the chase. Cathy nods back towards tall white cabinet doors. I turn back to look at my mother who nods in confirmation. I rush over to the door and throw it open.
Almara’s PovI awake to a familiar beeping sound. It’s faint at first, like a distant call from far away until it’s suddenly blaring in my ears. My eyes shoot open and the blood in my body rushes to the important organs and I sit up with a jolt.“Where’s Grace?” I ask before I can make out anything else. “Arthur? Robbie?” I call out, hoping the sound of my distressed voice will cause Robbie to cry back.“Shhh,” a gentle voice says with
Almara’s PovArthur flings open the door, this time it breaks off the hinges. I guess there’s no changing our mind now. I keep Robbie wrapped up in both my arms and under my shirt.Arthur uses his body to guard mine, outstretching his arms and a puffed-out chest as he keeps his eyes zeroed in on every moving body around us all while moving us forward and falling in exact pace with each of my steps.We fight through sideways rain and vicious winds, it dawns on me that this storm isn&