Eternally Bound by Blood(Dark Bl)

The anger faded, replaced by a strange, prickling unease. The masked woman stood perfectly still, her gaze—or what he assumed was her gaze—locked on him. The silence between them stretched, taut and suffocating, until she finally raised her hands and made a slow, deliberate gesture. A ripple of energy pulsed through the air, and Eric felt the weight of an invisible barrier settle around them, muting every sound from beyond the room.

Eric tensed, a sick realization creeping over him. Whoever she was, this woman wielded power—power beyond his comprehension. He'd thought himself caged before, but this... this was a prison within a prison, one that made his skin crawl.

Then, her hands rose to her mask, her movements infuriatingly slow , almost like a ritual she'd practiced countless times. She pulled it free, unveiling her face beneath the cold, porcelain facade. The sight of her features hit him like a punch to the gut. She was hauntingly beautiful, her skin a warm, soft brown that caught the faint light, her high cheekbones and full lips giving her an almost regal appearance. Dark, loosely curled hair spilled around her shoulders, framing her face in a way that accentuated the depth of her piercing eyes—dark and enigmatic, holding both warmth and a deep, familiar sorrow he couldn't place.

As he stared, the small scar above her brow and the subtle, familiar contours of her face brought a flood of memories rushing back. He had woken up beside her countless times, watched her sleep, even memorized the way her features softened in those quiet moments.

It was her.

A tremor ran through him as he recognized the face that had haunted his dreams since the night he had been turned.

She was his wife.

He found himself staring into eyes he no longer recognized, eyes that held secrets and power he'd never suspected.

Her gaze pierced through him with an intensity that made his chest tighten, a fierce and bitter gleam igniting in her stare. The change was subtle yet profound, like a creeping darkness that wrapped around him, suffocating in its grasp.

"Isabella…" he whispered, the name feeling foreign on his tongue, as if it belonged to a stranger rather than the woman he had loved. She didn't flinch at the sound; instead, her lips curved ever so slightly. The air between them thickened, heavy with unspoken words as he grappled with the reality that this was not the woman he had left behind.

Eric's mind raced, each heartbeat drumming with dawning confusion. He had expected warmth and familiarity, but what he saw now was a stranger cloaked in his wife's skin. A disquieting realization settled over him, deepening the unease within: he knew so little about the woman who had once been his everything. What had happened in the time they had been apart?

"You look… surprised," she murmured, her voice carrying a strange edge he had never heard before, as if she had been waiting for this moment. The tone was almost mocking, full of a bitterness that set him on edge.

Swallowing, Eric took a step back, his mind racing. Had she always been like this? Old memories flickered in his head—conversations, her silences, the way she used to look at him. What had he missed? A faint, unsettling hum filled the silence around them.

"What are you?" he finally stammered, his voice shaky. Isabella's smile turned sharper, almost cruel.

"Oh, Eric…" She tilted her head, her eyes cold and calculating. "If only you'd realized sooner. But I guess you never really knew me at all."

The realization hit him hard. All the strange things he had encountered in the supernatural world swirled in his mind, and suddenly, he felt the weight of his ignorance and each revelation left him more confused.

Eric's throat tightened, and his vision blurred as he fought against the wave of sorrow crashing over him. He lifted a trembling hand, trying to shield his face, to hide the signs he could feel creeping over him—his eyes reddening, teeth sharpening into something unnatural, his skin taking on the haunting, ashy pallor he knew all too well. The presence of Isabella, standing there with a bitterness that cut deep, stirred something murderous within him, a hunger that he tried to suppress.

"I was turned into a monster," he whispered, the confession slipping from his lips before he could stop it. He didn't want her to see him like this, not in this moment of pain and guilt, not as he battled the urge to give in to the dark side that craved her like food. The weight of his transformation pressed heavily on him, amplifying his shame as he struggled to maintain control.

Isabella's laughter was cold and harsh, cutting through the tension in the air. "You were already a monster, Eric," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "Long before they turned you. You've always buried your emotions beneath that charming facade. What you're feeling now is just a shadow of what you force yourself to react to."

Eric's heart sank at her words, each syllable a reminder of the truth he had tried to ignore. He looked into her eyes, once warm and familiar, now filled with bitterness and judgment. "I didn't want this… I didn't choose this," he stammered, desperation creeping into his tone.

"Didn't you?" she shot back, her expression hardening. "You chose to walk away, to turn your back on everything that mattered. You've made yourself into this… creature, feeding on the darkness. And now you stand there, pretending you can still feel something—pretending you're not just a monster in a pretty suit."

The accusations pressed down on him, and he could feel the hunger within him rising, battling against the guilt. "Isabella, please…" he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm still me. I can still—"

"Can you?" she interrupted, stepping closer, her eyes narrowing as she studied him. "Can you still love? Can you still care? Or is this just a performance for my benefit? Show me what you really are, Eric."

Eric swallowed, but his throat felt like sandpaper. "Why are you here? Why are you doing this to me?"

"Because," she replied, her voice dropping to a whisper that crackled with an unsteady mix of excitement and bitterness, "I have powers now, Eric. Powers that finally make me feel… unstoppable." She lifted her hands, and the air around them shimmered with raw, crackling energy. "I was tired of feeling weak, of waiting for the day you'd walk away, leaving me behind. I needed something of my own, something that wouldn't fade or abandon me."

She paused, a faint smirk playing on her lips. "These powers were gifted to me by a master who understands that need. All I have to do is follow her orders. And believe me, Eric, she has plans for you, too."

Isabela's eyes darkened as she stared at Eric, memories surfacing like bruises beneath her skin.

"Do you even know what it was like?" she murmured, her voice laced with quiet fury. "Waiting night after night, hoping you'd walk through the door, hoping that maybe, just maybe, this time you'd look at me like you actually wanted to be there?" She laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. "But you didn't. You'd stay out late, leaving me alone with a house filled with silence and shadows."

She looked away, almost speaking to herself. "I remember sitting up until the early hours, listening for any sound that might mean you'd finally come home. But those nights dragged on, empty. And then... everything changed."

Her gaze turned cold, calculating. "Someone came looking for you—some stranger with eyes that didn't look human, like they'd seen centuries. He slipped into our home, right through the front door like he owned the place. And I realized then, Eric, that there was something else going on in your world. Something dark, powerful... and, for the first time, something I wanted."

The memory was sharp, vivid. "He looked at me like I was nothing. But when I asked him who he was, he just laughed and told me to ask you. And when he left, he left the door open—to his world. I could feel it. And I could feel what it would mean to finally have strength, to finally be something other than the woman waiting at home for a man who barely remembered I existed."

She held up her hands again, power humming between her fingers. "So, I found my way to that power, to people who knew how to make someone feel… unstoppable. Someone who wouldn't just leave me in the shadows." Her voice hardened. "I took my life back, Eric. And now, I have more than you ever gave me."

For a split second, Eric's mask cracked wide open, revealing something dark, twisted, and far more monstrous than the charming facade he usually wore. His eyes deepened into a vivid, unnatural red, glinting with a barely contained fury. Black veins pulsed beneath his eyes, branching out in jagged lines that seemed to ripple with his anger. He took a breath, as though to steady himself, but the monstrous expression lingered, revealing the predator lurking beneath.

His eyes hardened, and a shadow of raw fury twisted his features. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, buried under an expression of wounded betrayal that looked almost convincing to Isabella if she didn't know the type of monster her husband was.

"Isabela," he said, his voice low and rough, as though struggling to keep his composure. His lips curved into a sad smile, though his eyes were anything but soft. "After all we've been through, you chose this?" He let out a shaky breath, forcing himself to look hurt, as if he were the wronged one in all of this. "I trusted you… and this is how you repay me?"

He shook his head slowly, a sad, disappointed chuckle escaping his lips. "I suppose I should've known better. You've always wanted more, haven't you? More than I could ever give you." His voice softened, taking on a pleading edge that masked the anger simmering beneath. "But to betray me like this, to throw everything we had away for… power?"

He stepped closer, holding her gaze with a look of quiet devastation, his voice barely above a whisper. "I would have given you anything, Isabela. But now…" His voice trailed off, and he gave her a single, sorrowful shake of his head.

Isabela kept her gaze steady, forcing herself to meet his eyes. She could see the monster he was—those deep red eyes, the black veins pulsing beneath his skin like dark tendrils of anger barely restrained. But deep down, it hurt her more than she'd ever admit. She'd known who Eric was long before he even realized it himself. A cold-hearted killer who hid behind a mask of charm, a predator whose warmth had always been hollow.

"I serve her in exchange for these abilities," Isabella continued, her tone shifting to something more sinister. "And now, I'm here to see what you truly are—my husband, the monster."

Isabella's laugh was low, rich, and it didn't reach her eyes. "Eric, don't you see? Being with you was the most torturous thing I could put myself through. You wanted me to play the part of the dutiful wife while you tried to convince the world you were somehow normal." She took a slow step closer, her heels echoing in the quiet. "But did you ever wonder who I was beneath it all? What I am?"

A flicker of disbelief crossed his features as he grappled with her words. "How did you know I was here?"he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, he could feel his anger slowly begin overtaking him.

"I was surprised when I saw you with Grayson, getting beaten up," she admitted, her tone shifting momentarily, a hint of vulnerability surfacing in her gaze before she quickly masked it. "At first, I couldn't reconcile the image of you with that of a monster. But the more I thought about it, the more fitting it seemed—a hidden monster, turned into a dreadful beast, just like the vampires you've become part of."

Her expression hardened as she continued, "I've made it my life's mission to exterminate all of them, no matter who they are—what they've become." She gazed at Eric, and for a brief moment, he saw a flicker of sadness in her eyes, a brief glimpse of the woman he once knew. But just as quickly, it vanished, replaced by that familiar icy resolve.

"Why?" he pleaded, desperate for understanding. "Why would you want to kill them?"

"Because they deserve it," she replied coldly. "And so do you."

The words struck him like a physical blow, and he felt the hunger within him surge, a primal instinct battling against the sorrow that threatened to consume him.

"Isabela…," he began, but the rest of his words faltered as he felt the weight of her gaze.

"Yes, Eric?" she asked, her voice smooth and steady, holding a dangerous allure.

"I don't want to be this," he confessed, the words spilling out in a rush. "I didn't choose this life."

"And yet here you are," she replied, her expression unreadable, a mixture of triumph and regret. "Living proof of the monster lurking beneath."

The air between them crackled with tension, the chasm of their shared past growing wider and deeper with every passing moment.

"Is this what you wanted?" he asked, desperation tinging his voice. "To come back and show me what I've become?"

"No, Eric," she replied softly, her voice laced with a haunting sadness. "What I wanted was to remind you of the truth. You're not the only one who has changed.Did you ever wonder for a second where I was before you were turned, I would disappear for weeks at a time and when I returned you didn't even care. "

Isabella stood with a cold smirk on her face, her arms crossed defiantly. "Did you really think I would stay loyal to you, Eric?" Her voice dripped with a mixture of contempt and something darker, a reminder of the bond they once shared. "You've always underestimated me, just like everyone else.My master opened my eyes to the truth, Eric. I don't need you or anyone anymore."