So that I say, "My time has come to die,
If fate so blest a death for me design."
But to my soul, thus steeped in joy, the sound
Brings such a wish to keep that present heaven,
It holds my spirit back to earth as well.
And thus I live: and thus is loosed and wound
The thread of life which unto me was given
By this sole Siren who with us doth dwell.

Sonnets, Petrarch

IT TOOK HIM TIME to understand that love was not an obsession. Too much time. But what else did he have if not time? Over three hundred years spent loving a woman who wasn't even made for him. He was left to believe that the vampiric bullshit of mating for life was just a fairytale. He didn't need it.

Amara was beautiful. An enchantress. As soon as he saw her, he was knocked away with a gust of wind, his mind was only focused on her – Amara, Amara, Amara, Amara... The love ignited before he could even realize what was going on. And it was passionate, it was exploding all over the edges, leaving the longing for more and the insatiable yearning.

And the woman fed from it, from his love. The love came with the power of knowing that someone special like him, a hybrid, was twisted in her web. A warm man, who didn't depend on the blood, didn't depend on the sun... A complete difference from her, from any of her kind and that, enchanted her as well.

She devoured him from within. She melted in his warmth and his scent which was a mixture of that sweetness that a human carried. So special in her heart, in her eyes and in all eyes – hers, only hers.

But as much as love was portrayed as a virtue, it soon became something horrible. If only she wasn't bloodthirsty. If only she wasn't blinded by the rage that had been brought to her from the beginning of her days. And that man, her shiny, brilliant toy was just perfect to use for revenge.

Humans had no idea that he was something else. His dark, almost black eyes seemed so genuine, his messy hair added the illusion of imperfections as his smile bedazzled all. A little revenge toy. With sharp teeth that only showed at the beginning of the night.

Many people have died from his illusion. Many people have died because Amara has asked him to do so. "They've hurt me so dearly, my love, so dearly. They burnt my home, they killed my parents, they killed all of whom I cared about..." She'd used to say.

Even if she had the power to get her revenge, she chose him to do all her bidding because... He just looked so pretty while killing someone.

The way the blood dripped down from the corners of his lips, the way a lazy smile hung from the ecstasy of warm, warm blood. The way his angelic face didn't even move while killing someone, the way gentle arms were coated with so many muffled screams and cries. He just looked so pretty.

And there was nothing better for a vampire like her than to have someone who would do anything for her. Anything.

But just like any toy, it loses its value over time. Amara got bored. But she didn't get bored of his pretty eyes, bored of revenge – it became repetitive and all who deserved to die were long gone. And what was good of him if he wasn't pretty doing her bidding?

And so, she left him.

Left him for an eternity of sorrow, of never-ending pain, of memories of her. Amara, Amara, Amara, Amara... Who was he without her? Who was he? All this mating for life – three hundred years for nothing? He couldn't even count how much blood he had spilt on this earth, how many sorrows he had heard and the pleading... Burdened to dream about them in the night. But he did it all – for her.

And so, what is love if not pain?

author speaks—

we can see a little bit of his backstory— eros is a bit younger than carlisle, only by a few years. But as we can see, he is having issues with love - being in a toxic, obsessive relationship for 300 years definitely does the damage. And if you think this is the last time we will see Amara—I have some news for you...

I would really appreciate it if you would comment and vote on the chapters and engage as much as you could! Thank you!