Falling For Dakota

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Chapter 14

Eric

Leaving Dakota while she was asleep was the most cowardly, disrespectful, and selfish thing I have ever done in all the years I have walked this earth. It kills me to leave her like this, and yet it had to be done for her sake and mine. I know in my heart that she is a very stubborn wolf. This trait is both what I love and find difficult about her. That being said, if she sees me leave, I know she will do everything to follow me whether it is by force or in secret and that is the last thing I want to happen.

I know she is a strong woman and a very powerful wolf. After all, she’s born into a family of pure alphas. She can hold her own and snap a vampire’s neck just like a twig. Hell, she can even snap mine if she wants to, but I cannot risk getting her involved just in case a full out war occurs. I do not want to involve her and the pack simply because it is not their business. It is solely mine and I do not want any harm to come to them any longer. She can hate me all she wants, but I will not change my mind about this. Her and Amara’s safety are all that matters to me. Getting them involved would mean they would be a constant target, especially if the rest of the vampires find out what my sister is.

The harsh reality is, what you all saw in a certain series called The Vampire Diaries about Niklaus Mikaelson forming an army of hybrids can happen, only no one needs a doppelganger’s blood to create them. You only need a hybrid’s blood. You can just imagine the kind of ordeal the world will face if my sister’s blood falls into the wrong hands. Luckily, we were able to stop my father from doing exactly what we all feared. The only problem is, what if, he is not the only one who knows about Amara? I would hate to find out if this is true, hopefully, this never ever happens.

I left a note explaining why I had to do what I did. I made no promises of being safe and coming back in one piece because I am not certain how this will all end. In other words, I could cease to exist at any moment and I would rather not give her false hope. Call it a suicide mission and note. It is what it is. I only needed her to know that I might be gone longer than she anticipates, but I will do whatever I can to somehow provide an update, not on my whereabouts, but to let her know that I am still alive. It is indeed cruel, however, necessary. Honestly speaking, I did not plan to allow her to mark me as her mate, but everything that happened felt so real and so right and I would not change a thing.

I stared at her for minutes willing myself not to touch her so as not to wake her up. It kills me to have to leave her now. I would have loved spending every minute of my life with her, but that is not an option I can choose at the moment. I need to go because not only is it my duty, but I owe it to my coven to allow them to live better lives even after I step down from being the primus. I never wanted to be in the first place, but as I have learned decades upon decades, you cannot always have what you desire. Dakota was and is my only exception.

Hours passed by and I have already reached my destination. The first thing I had to do was to meet my most respected and trusted ally whom I have not seen for 15 years, but have been in touch with frequently - Ishmael, born in the year 1401 in Rome and one of the very few oldest vampires roaming this world. He does not lead a coven nor is he a part of any coven, however, he is the second most feared in the history of vampires next to Vlad III most commonly known as Vlad the Impaler. We have crossed paths during World War I and have tried to kill each other multiple times, but eventually became accomplices. He became the brother I never had and I became his.

Ishmael was the one keeping an eye on my enemies for the past month, as soon as he heard wind that the vampire queen has plans of attacking soon. I was forced to set my plan into motion earlier. Luckily neither the American nor the Italian covens have accepted her proposal which is why I may still have a chance to convince them to join mine instead. How? I am still contemplating on it. First thing’s first though, I need to reach Ishmael’s castle before anyone recognizes me.

“Have you been redecorating?” I teased as soon as I entered his study inside the castle. “Ah, the prodigal son has arrived,” Ishmael answered not bothering to stand to greet me from behind his massive Grenadilla, African Blackwood desk. I sat right in from of him before placing the Obsidian ring I have made for him on top of his desk. "Are you proposing?" I shook my head at how playful he is considering the fact that he does not enjoy any kind of company most of the time. "I would have gotten down on one knee, but I am truly sorry to disappoint you. I had this made and charmed by a very powerful witch friend," I confirmed and he looked at me slightly perturbed. "You never mentioned anything about a witch friend." I could not help but chuckle at his accusation because I have told him about her a hundred times before.

I first met Cordelia right at the time when my mother found out that she was pregnant with Amara. We briefly became lovers but ended up becoming good friends. She ended our affair because according to her, It messes with her mojo. Apparently, vampires and witches cannot be lovers because it upsets the balance of nature thus affecting her abilities. "I did not know that old vampires can suffer from amnesia as I have mentioned this numerous times before. This ring will allow you to walk under the sun," I informed and his eyes grew wide in seriousness. "Walk under the sun?" He looked at the ring then back at me as if he was assessing if I have gone mad or if I am telling the truth.

"Have you never noticed how quickly I can travel everywhere? It is because I do not have to wait for the night to come. I have my own charm though not in the form of a ring. This is my gift and my way of showing gratitude to you. If you are still feeling doubtful, let me show you as soon as the sun comes up," I promised, pushing the box that carries the ring further to his side of the table.

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