MATES WITH DEFECTS

Evelyn

I've always thought my instincts were sharp enough to cleave a meat tendon. So when my alarm rang a few minutes earlier, I knew something was wrong. 

I could feel it in my heart. The air felt stale, somehow heavier. Deep into my bones, i could somehow hear the wrongness seeping into the morning fog, promising a future of unknown. 

I rubbed my gritty eyes and turned off the lamp. I yanked the drapes open and stretched. 

Stretched my upper body that is. My lower body_from waist below_is paralyzed. 

Even though no one knew why. I just woke up a random Tuesday, six years ago and here we are, practically a useless invalid being. For us vampyre, mobility is the base of our existence. Agility and beauty are considered our strongest fort. Along with our hypnotic powers. 

None of which I posses in any significant quantity. No agility and definitely no beauty to be seen anywhere, my hypnotic powers are nothing but woeful at worst and mildly disgraceful at best. 

The one who excel at these things would be my older sister. Sophia was the very epitome of a vampyre woman. Over a century old, yet her lithe grace and eternal beauty was that of the legends. 

Not to talk of her top-notch hypnotic powers. She's the real beauty with brains. And extremely busy. She takes active part in the vampyre world and it's politics. 

I heaved a sigh and shook my unruly curls. It scattered my wildly around my head and I shuddered to think about what I look like right now. 

My mother liked to joke that my hair was a failed experiment and a sentient being on its own. 

The door creaked open, revealing my elderly maid,Agatha, who'd been saddled with the responsibility of taking care of me. 

She looked different today. Her hair was pulled back into a severe bun as always and her weathered face was pinched. 

“Good morning Young miss. I trust your sleep was restful?” She strode purposefully towards my bed and stopped just by the edge. 

“Good morning Agatha. Is something wrong?” I asked, dread making my tongue heavy in my mouth. 

Agatha pursed her lips and smiled tightly, “not if I can help it.” She maneuvered me into my wheelchair and wheeled me into the bathroom. 

The dressing up took longer than usual and my forehead pulled into a frown as I stared into the mirror. I was looking too dressed up for just our normal morning stroll through the garden. 

Once again, the back of my neck sparked with a warning sizzle. 

This couldn't be any good. 

Agatha must have saw the questions in my face as she provided the answers, “Your father requested for presence in the meeting room.” 

The silence that descended the room was thick and like a balloon stretched tight and waiting to burst. My father requested for my presence? 

That happened like…like never ago. It has never happened before. It had always been Sophia who handled all business meetings and correspondence. 

I squared my shoulder and took a deep breath, “Let's get going then.” 

The meeting room was on the other side of the mansion. The side where I've never been allowed to go into. Who wants an invalid anyway? 

The door opened and five pair of eyes swiveled in my direction. My palm turned clammy but I managed a wobbly smile.

“Good morning.” I greeted the room. 

They responded stiffly and my mother nodded to Agatha, dismissing her with the flick of her finger. Agatha was reluctant to leave as shown in the few seconds she her fingers lingered on my wheelchair. 

“Since we're all here, I think I'll dive right into it.” Marcus spoke up. His voice was deep and monotonous and he stared down his nose at me. 

I dug my nails into my palms, my breaths coming in short puffs. Ever since the incident, being under scrutiny always made me feel small and useless. 

“A treaty was made with the werewolves a while ago. Both races decided to give peace a try. The war had been going on for eons and both end have been suffering,” Marcus sighed and turned to me again. 

I was still reeling from the shock of trying to process the information all at once. This is going to be bad.

The war between the werewolves and vampyre was one of the constant of our world. 

“In other words, a marriage. Sophia was supposed to wed their Alpha,” Theophilus added in a grim voice. 

I nodded, because it was expected of me. This information was huge and vital, but why were they telling me this? 

My father raked his fingers through his hair, looking the most disheveled I've ever seen him. His tie was crooked and his eyes were red. 

And that was never a good sign. He wasn't even concealing his Royal eye color anymore. 

“Sophia is nowhere to be found,” he gritted out, the words sounding forceful and raw. As if they've been ripped out of his throat. 

A gasp shot out of my mouth and my eyes widened. Sophia was nowhere to be found? That could only mean one thing.

Bloodshed.

The nervous tingling at the base of my scalp was getting to an uncomfortable degree. 

“What are we going to do?” I asked, my voice small and laden with fear. 

Suddenly, it dawned on me. Agatha's strange behavior, my mother dapping the corner of her eyes rapidly with the hem of her shirt. 

My father looked stress and taut with tension. Theophilus and Marcus staring at me with pity in their eyes. It all made the weird sense to me now. 

I was going to be my sister's replacement. I was going to be the sacrificial lamb. 

And honestly, I couldn't find it in me to be disappointed in them. Maybe something broke in me six years ago. 

An eery sort of calm descended on me, blanketing the rioting emotions inside me. 

“When am I getting married

?” I asked no one in particular. 

The collective sharp intake of air was a tad bit gratifying.