Once Betrayed Never Forgotten

Chapter 110: To the City of Light

Aleksandr and I step into the portal hand in hand, the sensation of being swept away by a rushing river flooding my senses. The warmth of Greenharrow Castle melts away, replaced by the crisp, cool air of the City of Light

We emerge onto a cobblestone street, the Eiffel Tower looming overhead, its shimmering lights casting a golden glow over the bustling city. The distant sound of laughter and chatter drifts through the night air, mingling with the honking of car horns and the distant numble of traffic. The scent of pastries and roasted chestnuts fills my nose, mingling with the faint aroma of cigarette smoke,

“Paris,” I murmur, my gaze sweeping over the bustling streets, the illuminated storefronts, and cafes. The city is alive with activity, its vibrant energy pulsing through the air, wrapping around me like a warm embrace..

It’s somewhere I’ve always wanted to visit, and I always dreamed about someday taking a romantic vacation here with some cute guy. I never would have guessed that the cute guy in question would turn out to be a centuries old billionaire vampire, and we’d be visiting Paris not for a lover’s holiday, but on a quest to find a mythical supernatural being instead.

“Welcome to La Ville Lumière, The City of Lights, mon amour, Aleksandr whispers in my ear, his blue eyes gleaming with mirth as he squeezes my hand tighter in his own.

Kieran’s hazel eyes gleam, a grin spreading across his lips as his eyes flicker down to our joined hands. “Ye took an awful long time to catch up with us” he says, his voice dripping with a mixture of amusement and banter. “What were ye doing doin back there in my dining room? I hope it wasn’t anythin to dirty. I eat there, ye know.”

“I’m sure you’ve done far dirtier, you Scottish mamwhore,” Aleksandr says to Kieran with a look of disdain, which prompts Kieran to slap Aleksandr on the back in camaraderie.

“Damn right I have,” he says with a wink.

Kieran’s little quip brings back the memory of Aleksandr’s hands on me just moments ago before we stepped through the portal, the delicious taste of his kiss that still lingers on my lips, the heat and wet desire settling between my legs like the smouldering coals of a raging fire, one that ignites into brilliant flames every time Aleksandr so much as looks in my direction.

Damn, I know what we’re doing here is important, but I honestly just want to get it over with as soon as possible, so Aleksandr and I can pick up where we left off.

He promised to make me scream with pleasure until my throat is raw.

Damn

“Where’s the blood wraith and his fire wraith lover?” Aleksandr asks, looking around nonchalantly.

“Pyra and

and Bloodbane aren’t lovers,” I answer with a giggle, surprised that he’d come to that conclusion,

“They’re not!” Aleksandr replies, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Last I saw they were oglin‘ all the cars going down the Champs–Élysées, an‘ wandering off in the direction of the Arc de Triomphe,” Kieran says nonchalantly.

+109

Bonu

“What?” I reply, incredulous. “You mean, you lost them?”

07:18

Kieran just shrugs his shoulders.

“I’m not a babysitter,” he says dismissively. “Anyway, I’m sure they’ll find their way back.”

“Kieran, they come from the Fiery realm, remember?” I say, gritting my teeth in imitation at his carelessness. “They’ve literally never seen electricity, or roads, or cars. If one of them walks in front of a moving vehicle, that’s on you.”

As if on cue, Bloodbane e appears around the comer, emerging from a cobblestoned alleyway with Pyra in tow.

To say that their eyes are as big as saucers would be an understatement. Pyra, usually so serene, reserved and composed, looks like she’s un

LASUCC

whether she’s in heaven or hell. A strange expression of fear mixed with wondrous amazement is plastered across her beautiful face, while the ever- stoic Bloodbane struggles to hide his obvious awe at the unfamiliar surroundings.

world is not what I expected,” Bloodbane says gravely, while Pyra nods in dazed agreement.

17

Chapter 110 To the City of Light.

“In a good way, or a bad way?” I ask.

“That remains to be seen,” he replies.

Several passers by guffaw or chuckle as they walk past us, and a guy on a maped yells something loudly in French as he zooms past, his words clearly directed at Pyra or Bloodbane, or maybe both

“What did he say?” I ask Aleksandr

“Halloween, c’était le mois demier, imbéciles!” Kieran repeats the moped drivers wards in perfectly accented French.

“Quit teasing me,” I say, punching Kieran lightly in the arm. “Obviously I heard the words. What I want to know is what they mean,”

“He said Halloween was last month, and then he called them… well, let’s just say he used a very colourful insult, Aleksandr explains.

It takes me a second to understand the moped driver’s meaning. Pyra is still wearing her coronation outfit–an amazing floor–length black silk dress embroidered with golden flames that twist into the shape of a phoenix, with a billowing golden cloak that matches her shimmering golden eyes. She looks like something straight off the set of a fantasy movie, and Bloodbane’s wearing his travelling outfit a black tunic, pants and boots that are practically mediaeval looking, his long red hair so crimson that it looks dyed, a bright red blood welded sword sheathed at his waist. Both of them, like me, have their pointed ears visible, the mark of a wraith, not to mention the eerie glowing eyes Luckily, it seems that the human passers by assume that we’re a bunch of weirdos in fancy dress, possibly wearing prosthetic elf ears and glowing contact lenses to complete the look

“Well, what’s our next move?” I ask, eager to get tonight’s work over and done with so Aleksandr and I can spend some time alone asap. NôvelDrama.Org holds text © rights.

Aleksandr’s face tightens, his jaw clenching. “We need to find the cemetery from your vision,” he says, his voice firm. “Kieran, are we in agreement? There’s only one place that makes sense.”

Kieran’s grin fades, his expression growing serious, his brow furrowing. “I believe we are. It can only be Père Lachaise Cemetery,” he says, his voice low, his hazel eyes gleaming with determination. That’s where we need to go.”

A shiver runs down my spine, the vision replaying in my mind, the haunting voice echoing in my ears. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s get going.” I say, my voice steady, the urgency pressing down on me.

Aleksandr nods, his blue eyes burning into mine. “Yes,” he agrees, his voice resolute. “There’s no time to lose.”

And with that, we set off into the bustling streets of Paris.

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