The mansion was quiet, save for the ticking of the grandfather clock in the foyer. Ophelia sat at her desk, her icy blue eyes staring at a photograph of Solace. His golden eyes seemed to mock her, even in the stillness of the picture. She put the photo down and walked over to the couch where Solace was tied up.
"You should have known better than to cross me, Solace," she said, running a finger down his cheek. He glared at her, but said nothing. She smiled and stood up, transferring him to a wheelchair.
Ophelia wheeled him to the basement, her heels clicking against the cold stone floor. She removed him from the wheelchair and strapped him to a chair, his golden blood pumping through his veins. She licked her lips at the sight of it.
She grabbed a needle gun and used it to take some of Solace's blood. She grabbed a butcher's knife and rolled in a device, placing a spiked bracelet on Solace's wrist. His blood flowed through a tube and into a container.
Just as she was about to cut off Solace's arm, Nico burst into the basement. Ophelia was momentarily distracted, giving Nico the chance to free Solace and make a run for it.
Ophelia cursed and chased after them, but Nico broke a tank and a wave of water pushed Ophelia back. She growled in frustration as Solace and Nico escaped the mansion.
"It's not over," she said to the guard on duty, her voice low and dangerous. She raised her hand and said, "It's not over."
She may have lost Solace for now, but she wouldn't give up. She'd get him back, and his blood would be hers.
As she entered the mansion, she couldn't help but let out a low chuckle. "Solace, you should have known better than to mess with a siren-wendigo hybrid." She mutters to herself, a playful smirk on her lips.
She may have lost the battle, but the war was far from over. And Ophelia was more than ready to continue the fight.
"Ophelia, my love. You always underestimate me." Solace's voice echoed in her head, making her shiver with desire.
"I'll have you back, Solace. And when I do, you'll be begging for me to take your blood." She whispered, her hand trailing down her body.
The hunt was on, and Ophelia was ready to claim her prize.
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