The Fiftieth Chapter
Rosette was Rozelyn’s fucking aunt; half-aunt to be precise. She assumes that there is nothing like that in this world: a half-aunt. Probably it’s just her thoughts.
‘Fine. I will just call Rosette as “aunt”,’ Rozelyn pondered as she walked to their house which was just next to Thalia’s abode.
She entered silently as the house is quiet; which means Cyrill is still asleep even though noon is nearing.
“Gosh, he’s still snoring!” Rozelyn shook her hands in an irritated manner.
She grabbed a glass of orange juice by the fridge. Yet, even if she already drank two glasses, she can still hear his loud snoring due to his Thaumaturge senses.
“Damn it!” It was the last words she uttered as she decided to climb the stairs and up into Cyrill Emerson Clarke’s room.
***
Cyrill was awoken by a loud pounding in his room’s door.
With eyes still asleep, he forced his body to get up and walked to the door in such a zigzag manner that his toe even hit the leg of his wooden chair.
He bit his lower lip in order to refrain from releasing an ‘ouch’.
Rozelyn was the one on his threshold as soon as he opened the door; the one who kept pounding in his door. She was the beautiful one to ruin his goddamn nice, peaceful sleep.
He could see the shock on her face. “What is it?!”
“I—Why are you biting your lip?” She asked that kind of question first to him.
“I hit my toe on the chair’s leg.”
She cackled. “You are indeed still sleepy.”
“And you ruined it.”
Her smile vanished in an instant. Cyrill kind of regretted why those words escaped from his lips.
“Anyway. Do you know what time it is already that you still keep on rolling in your bed?!”
He rolled his eyes as his right hand took a tight grip by the door knob. “I was not rolling in my bed. I am resting and regaining my energy in my quiet room and YOU JUST RUINED IT, ROZ!!!”
Her brows hoisted. “Oh really? Then you are indeed a tired old wolf then. You keep on sleeping during the day while you enjoy your vivaciousness at night.”
Cyrill took a long, deep breath before opening the door wide this time.“What is it so important that you are absolutely eager to disturb me in my sleep?!”
She smirked and made her way into the room. She then laid herself on his bed and gave him a sheepish smile.
“Rosette just told me she’s my mother’s half-sister.”
Cyrill was lucky that he was biting his lip or else he could be shaking her shoulders and demand several questions pertaining to the fact that she just revealed.
“Seriously?” It was all the words that his tongue had managed to provide.
“Seriously?” She just reiterated his words.
“I have been seriously talking to you ever since you opened that door and you just asked me ‘Seriously?’?!”
Cyrill’s throat bobbed. His heartbeat went faster. He’s beginning to have a headache...again.
‘Should I sprint away and never come back until Romaine arrived or just remain here?’ His own question reverberates in his own mind.
“Well..” He started.
“Well what?” She was growing impatient; her anger was on the verge of oozing up to its brim.
“That was very, very, very touching and shocking to hear. At least, you still have someone left as your blood relative even though she’s only half of the blood of your mother. The important thing is that you have someone that you can call a family that indeed possesses the same blood as yours,” Cyrill forced a smile despite the fact that his bed repeatedly beckoning him to return to sleep.
He was a bit happy that Rozelyn had a tear on her face. He watched her stand and run towards him to give him a hug. Then, she wept and sobbed on his bare muscular chest.
Cyrill just let his adoptive mother’s step daughter just cry on his naked chest. He lifted his two hands to her hair and stroked her head as a means of giving comfort.
“It’s okay, Roz,” he started. “We are still your family. The more the merrier, as they say, isn’t it?”
Rozelyn lifted her head to him and her teary eyes seemed to form into a smile.
She then kissed the corner of his lips softly. It made him dazed, frozen, speechless. It was as if his feet were nailed on the floor to which he was standing. Cyrill was debating if he was going to answer her kiss or just think of it as an ‘accidental kiss’.
“Thank you for being my crying shoulder, Cy.”
“You are always welcome to cry in my chest or in my arms, Roz.”
Her smile was sweet and genuine. It was the smile that Cyrill hoped he always saw in her beautiful brown-skinned face.
Suddenly, he felt that tingling sensation in his head. Then in his whole body. Rozelyn noticed it and winced.
Cyrill’s head was…he didn’t know. He just felt dizzy; it was as if a migraine was visiting him yet again. But, he had enough rest and sleep. How could this happen again?
Feeling very weak, he collapsed on the floor onto his knees. Luckily, Rozelyn was there to catch him. He cannot still fathom what was going on with his body. He felt hungry at the same time vomiting. He felt like eating human flesh but at the same time, he felt hunger for mortal food.
Cyrill cannot understand what was going on with him. He doesn’t even know where this sudden pain and sickness came from.
All he knew was that it was causing him pain and dizziness and hunger and vomiting. And his werewolf senses are not working either.
‘Fuck this!’ It was all he thought as his sight went pitch black and he plunged into utter unconsciousness.
***
Cyrill just collapsed. She was panicking, shaking. And what’s worse is that she was left alone again. Romaine was still smelling the trees in that shitful virgin forest. Rosette and Thalia went fishing at Lough Erin. She’s definitely left on her own once more.
“Not again!” She yelled as she supported Cyrill’s head with her two hands. His head was now on the shiny wooden floor. Cyrill’s head could’ve been fractured if it wasn't for the assistance of her two mighty hands.
She dragged him to his king-sized bed and put two pillows beneath his head.
Rozelyn listened for his heartbeat.It was extremely fast. She also checked his breath.It was warm—hot.
“He’s having a fever!” She uttered as she was about to jump from the bed and went to her room to grab a thermometer.
But, Cyrill opened his mouth once again and that scent flooded her vampire senses.
It was reeking of an unusual smell. It seems it came from a potion that she just smelled at this moment.
She inched closer and smelled his breath again. She was right, definitely right.
It smells of a Blood Witch—or a Blood Witch’s doing, of a Heathen’s doing.
She only met a Blood Witch once. It was last month when she was hunting for blood and she came across this heathen who was forcing a cab driver to be her Death Summoner—to be her minion.
The Blood Witch didn’t last long and the latter eventually became her meal. She let the cab driver escape and erased his memories from the bloody occurrence. From that moment, she managed to know the scent and taste of a Blood Witch.
And Rozelyn likes the taste of their blood. It’s sweet and sticky and it became her new favorite. She finally has a new addition to her vampire meal menu.
But the scent from Cyrill’s breath, it wasn’t their blood. It smells like a Blood Witch had given him some sort of potion or concoction that could’ve been the reason for this sickness.
Thalia once taught her how to counter ill-giving potions. Her former nanny even gave her a small notebook pertaining to this stuff.
So, without wasting any time, she grabbed it from her purple glittery journal and immediately acted upon it.
***
Cyrill’s body felt immensely heavy.
He can only open his eyes. His body was stiff and hard as a rock. He was sure he wasn’t in the hospital as the surroundings still smelled of his room. Not to mention that Rozelyn’s scent can still be reached by his nose.
His smell. His werewolf senses are back. How the hell he didn’t notice it at first?
“You’re okay now. You are pretty much lucky that the potion hadn’t done that much damage to you,” Rozelyn’s face seems tired and drain.
“You should rest, Roz. You don’t need to heal me with your powers.”
“You should also rest, Mr. Clarke. Besides, I didn’t use my powers. I made a potion to counter that ill-giving concoction given to you. Thanks to Thalia’s words and advice on what ingredients to use. You are now back. But, it will take an hour or two to move your body. So I suggest you rest first.”
Cyrill’s eyes smiled like how a patient smile to a doctor. “I will, if you will rest too.”
“Don’t worry. I will be just on your side.” Rozelyn, too, grinned in answer.
“And another thing…” She said, “Always make sure the woman whom you’re making love with is not a blood witch of any sort if you don’t want to end up like this again.”
Cyrill’s expression shifted.
“Someone gave it to you purposely. And it seems that your werewolf senses cannot detect it as you are either in climax or tired when you drink it.”
His voice now paints anger. “I didn’t have contact with any woman these past few weeks or even sleep with a woman in bed.”
Rozelyn’s brows raised. “Oh really? Then how do you explain that?” She waved a hand to his body. “This?”
Surprisingly, Cyrill clenched his hand to a fist and shouted as an answer. “I am not a freaking liar, Roz. Besides, I am not like you who casually just jumps on any man’s cock whenever you see one!”
Rozelyn stood. Without any hesitation and someone to stop her, she slapped him. She slapped him so hard that she didn’t realize that his face now becomes redder than ever.
