Chapter Three
Jacob arrived an hour before dawn, a limo and a couple of black out vans ready to escort us to the plane. I had spent the passing hours curled up with Roman, talking and reassuring him as well as feeding my blood to him a little at the time. I wanted to make sure he'll be at his strongest for tonight's travels, and prayed silently that he'll make it there before dawn of the following day.
The drive to the plane was exactly ten minutes, as the pureblood had said. We boarded fairly quickly, but there were a few humans on board to be fed on before departure. After feeding Roman, I was thankful for them, and drained two dry before we took off. Half of Jacob's men stayed behind, and I had a feeling they were to follow on the date that he was supposed to leave.
The pilots and stewardess were human, with a glaze over their eyes, the only hint that Jacob had them under his control. The pilot ran through the normal niceties over the speaker as you would expect on any other flight, and I wonder briefly what Jacob must have put in their minds to keep them going through the motions of their daily jobs. I buckle up and soon enough we were in the air, and I relax into my chair, watching as Jacob left the pilot pit to come sit next to me.
"Would you like me to inform you when we get closer so you can prep yourself for your arrival?" He asked, turning the chair so it faced me. I tilt my head at him, feigning puzzlement.
"I am prep for my arrival already," I said softly.
"Do you not have a change of clothing?" he replied, motioning to my clothing. I was dressed in black skinny jeans, knee high leather boots, and a red corset top.
"What is wrong with what I'm wearing?" I ask, purposely trying to aggravate him. As a Royal, and a female one at that, I'm expected to wear flowy beautiful dresses made of the most expensive material. Arriving in pants was surely going to cause a commotion, and with how much skin I was showing with my cleavage and shoulders, Jacob was going to get an earful while I will get angered responses from everyone who dares to speak. He quickly recovers and try to put on a reassuring smile.
"Of course not, Abethial," he said happily.
"Princess Abethial," I corrected him. He sputters a bit, and I turn to look out at the window, hiding my smile. I knew it would be fun dealing with this pureblood, but I didn't realize until now how gullible he was. The flight went by fairly quickly in my opinion, but I could sense Jacob's anxiety rising as we got closer, realizing that he also was afraid of flying, and the longer we were in the air, the more nervous he became. Between checking on flights and feeding, he asks me various questions of what I've done since leaving my family. I answer with vague and short answers, irritating him even more. By the time we landed, I was on the verge of giving up my composure and laughing at Jacob. Thankfully, I kept it, keeping the act of being calm and bored during the whole flight.
We were met with another limousine and a few dark vans, and I got in next to Jacob. His color was coming back and he seem almost cheerful that we were finally on land. The drive was very peaceful, and I almost forgot how beautiful my home really was. Scotland was very green and cool, full of natural beauty and very few developments where we were. We past a few villages and made some twists and turns before we finally turn down a dirt road surrounded by trees. The area surrounding the town's property were lined with high voltage fencing and only one way in and out. I watch curiously as we approach the gate that block the dirt road to the town, sentries standing patiently as we approach.
When Jacob roll down his window, they recognize him and waved us through before locking up the fence behind us. The road was surrounded by trees, and about ten minutes later we were entering the old town. This was where only the purebloods without fledging's and their own covens lived. I notice a few kids running around, but it was mainly men, with a few women being held tightly by their mate. All the townspeople lined the street that led to the castle, curious who was entering as they leer into the limousine. I knew there was no use of slouching in my seat, my arrival must have been forewarned way before our plane landed.
As we pass the castle gates, I sigh as I saw the doors open and out walk out the Royals, my family. Mother and Father wasn't there, but I could see my twin sister Izabeth and my three older brothers, Malcom, Michael and Mitch, as they walk out onto the steps. They all look excited to see me, and I was almost thankful that Mother and Father weren't there to greet me. When the car stops and the door open, Malcom, the oldest, hauled me out of there and pull me into a big hug. I was passed around, with them laughing and huge smiles on their faces, welcoming me home. Finally, I was passed to Izabeth, who gave me a delicate hug and a kiss on the face.
"I'm so thrilled you're finally home, Sister. But, what kind of clothes are you wearing?" She asks, looking down at my clothing. I shrug, keeping my expression passive.
"I thought it was pass time I gave Father a heart attack," I said simply, making the men laugh and her shake her head.
"You're such a trouble maker. Plus, he almost had a heart attack when he found out you were alive! All of us were relieved," she said, hooking my arm with hers and leading me inside.
"Oh, she's being modest. I think we all screamed and shout and cried to find that out," Michael said, throwing an arm around my shoulder.
"While you were gone, you must have grown up a lot. You're a complete babe, sis!" Exclaim Mitch, making me laugh.
"She's your sister! That is not appropriate talk towards her," Izabeth chastised, making him laugh.
"Well, you have all changed as well. I guess we've all done some growing up," I said softly, looking at them all.
Malcolm had the same dark red hair as Father, but it was pull back into a low pointy tail and he kept it cut right at the middle of his back. He had snowy white skin and bright green eyes. He was dressed in black slacks, a button up dark blue shirt with his cuffs rolled, and black shoes. He took after our father the most, almost the exact replica, just without the gray hair our father had started to receive soon after Izabeth and myself were born.
Michael took after our mother more, with snowy white hair that he kept in the same style as Malcolm, and he had blue eyes like her as well. He was dressed a little more simply, with black denim pants, a black cotton shirt and black dress shoes. His skin was snowy just like all of ours, but he was the only one who got our father's height, which is why many mistake him as the oldest since he's taller than Malcolm.
Mitch also had white hair like Mother, but his was shorten into a more modern cut with soft curls. His eyes were mismatch, one blue and one green, and he was the only one who got our father's dimples. He had a mischievous glint in his eyes, and I notice the emerald green stud in his right ear. He was dress in black slacks, a cotton white shirt, a blue and grey button vest, and white dress shoes. He was more eccentric than the rest of them for clothing, but I knew I outshined him today with my get up.
Izabeth was the spitting image of Mother, with the long wavy white hair ending right at her hip and bright blue eyes. She was small and petit, and dress in a simple blue gown with matching blue slippers. She was stunning, and I was always afraid that if I'd hug her, I'd break her in half. She smiles to me as I stare at her, lost in memories of growing up with my twin.
"Something the matter, Abethial?" She asks, tilting her head in question. I smiled and pulled her into a tight hug, feeling warm by the memories of the happy moments I let myself to believe in.
"Just happy to see you all," I said once I pulled away, looking at my brothers as well.
"Now, you keep that up, and you're going to make me cry!" Mitch said, pulling the other two brothers and us into a group hug. I laugh as the men grumble in dismay. Once that was over, Malcolm led us into the library for drinks and to talk about my adventures. However, I wasn't entirely interested in telling them my many years of loneliness, or how I cure that loneliness by creating a fledgling. They told me how Izabeth has 5 suitors after her, what mischief Mitch have gotten himself into, how Malcolm is doing with training to become the next ruler, and the difficulties Michael was having about picking a woman for marriage like Father was pressing him to.
"Speaking of him, where is Father and Mother?" I ask, curious why my parents weren't there. When I had left, Father and I were on very bad terms, and I wanted to make amends before I head back home. The room fell silent, and Malcolm gave me a solemn look.
"He's with the Elders. He wanted to consult them about your arrival, and whether- "
"We shouldn't be the ones discussing this with her," Izabeth interrupted him meekly, sipping her drink. As the eldest, we've all grown up to respect him and not to do something simple like interrupting him, so I knew it was something bad for my twin to do so. Malcolm sigh, looking down at his lap as he contemplated what to do.
"Whether to what? You can't say that much and not say anymore," I begged for him to continue, but I could see in his eyes that he refused to.
"They won't tell you, Daughter." At his voice, we all stood up, and I turn to see Father had entered the room behind me. He had more gray in his hair before, his face more haggard than I remembered all those years ago. He was dress in a business suit, with his simple gold crown adorning his head. My brothers and sister quickly left the room as he drops himself into a chair across from mine, the doors sounding loudly behind me as they close. He looked tired, worn, and I resist the urge to sit myself on the floor in front of him and lay my head on his lap like I use to as a child.
"Father?" I asked timidly, breaking the silence that had fallen between us. He sighs, rubbing his face with his hands before sitting up straight and looking me in the eyes.
"They cannot tell you because they've been sworn to secrecy through blood oath," he finally said, making my eyes widen. The last time we've used the blood oath rituals was for mine and Izabeth coming of age, swearing our legions to the family and to abide the rules laid out for our kind. That was many, many years ago.
"What has happened? I'll do the blood oath as well, if need be," I said, pulling out the dagger that I had hidden in my right boot. He shook his head, motioning for me to come to him. I got up and kneel in front of me, and he stroke my hair, his eyes looking distant as he became thoughtful.
"Your mother… your mother has become very sick while you were away Abethial," he said softly, and I could see tears in his eyes. I've never seen my father cried, and the only time I knew of him crying was supposedly at the news that someone had given him that I was dead. However, that was just a rumor I had heard of. "She has gone insane, child. However, because you're not of my blood…" his voice drifted off before his eyes widen at his slip of words. Tilting my head, it took me a moment to process his words, before I pulled away and out of reach.
"Not of your blood? Father, I am your daughter, twin to Izabeth, of course I'm your child!" I exclaimed, suddenly letting the anger of all my life flood through me. Yes, there were happy memories of my raising, however, most of them were filled with him constantly denying me because of my coloring of hair and eyes. I didn't look like him or Mother, with my black hair and grey eyes, so he swore that Mother cheated on him with another man or some bullshit like that. It had hurt me, and I let that hurt and anger of all these years break down the controlled emotional wall I've built. As it swirls around me, I could feel my power rushing through my veins.
"Abethial, calm yourself," he said, standing up. Only then did I realize that I was standing as well, but mainly floating, thanks to my powers rushing through me. I felt it stir the air, pulling at my hair and lifting me higher than my father, a defense mechanism to make me feel above the person who was causing me trouble. I glare down to him.
"Of course I am your child! We've had this same discussion over and over again. Your disbelief was why you favored Izabeth over me, why you always try to ignore me or not give me the same love and attention you gave all the others. How can they accept me as their own but you refuse to?" I exclaimed, feeling tears stream down my face. I heard some bangs on the door, and Izabeth's and Malcolm's voice carrying through, asking if Father was alright and for me to calm down.
"Abethial, look at yourself. You have no resemblance of me, so of course common sense dictates that you're not of my blood!" Father exclaim, his face getting red as blood came rushing to his head, his anger clear. I use to fear that anger, but not since I've left my home, not since I've realize how little control he actually had over me.
"I am your daughter!" I screamed, wincing as excruciating pain filled my body. It was Father's power, the mental trick of making you feel as though your insides were on fire. However, because of my power, I grit my teeth and took it, having given myself the same treatment over the years. It had built an immunity for pain, and this was barely enough for me to make a sound over. His eyes widen as he saw me smile, and I knew it was a very evil smile. Combine with my powers making me float, my hair swishing violently, and my eyes most likely swirling, I knew that I looked menacing.
I screamed at the top of my lungs, thrusting my hands forward with all the anger and hurt I was feeling, making him and all the furniture and books go flying to the far wall. At my father's gasp and yelp of pain as he hit the wall full force, I could hear my brothers trying to break down the door. I ignore them, knowing that they understood my hurt and anger more than anyone else, yet at the same time they knew nothing, for they never experienced the pain and anger Father have forked over to me.
"How can you say that," I asked, my voice calming as I try to control my emotions, "when I'm the only one who has mental powers like yourself? Is this not enough proof, while all the others have the physical and brutal powers like mother? Izabeth can summon up lightning bolts, Mitch can teleport, Michael can resurrect the dead, and Malcolm can summon up elemental demons. I am the only one who can deal the pain you can deal, as well as steal and look over memories. I am the only one," I said, trying to ignore my shaking voice and the steady stream of tears.
"Abethial," I felt a strong voice call out to me, and even though my hearing was becoming fuzzy from the amount of my powers I used, I knew I was about to black out. I felt strong hands pull me down, and a pair of arms wrap around me as I watch all my brothers and sister rush towards Father. With a sigh, I let the darkness of my subconscious take over, knowing I've said my piece and hope that Malcolm would be able to talk to Father about all this.