Chapter 25 #2
“Not,” she whispers. Dull pink eyes on me with a resigned expression. “He’s dead. We were not fated, so after death it becomes void. The only reason I’m left with the mark is because of the poison.”
That doesn’t diminish the fact that she was. That the devil who tortured her claimed her. Had his fangs in her flesh and marked her. She was a fucking. Child.
Breathing deeply in through my nose, I suck her scent into my lungs and it calms me. I focus on her words instead of my emotions. I focus on her and what she said I need to do instead of the all-consuming that wants to take place.
She said the claiming is void because he’s dead and they weren’t fated. That means something. Despite us already being fated there have been stories of someone having more than one. But he was not one.
“You’re right,” I console. “It means nothing.”
And that resignation, the dejected expression on her face flinches as she gives me grateful eyes.
That’s why she had always said bitemarks and claiming's and blood sharing never mattered. And despite all those things being very important to any being, especially those with fangs, I won’t let it define all that connects us.
Varian swallows thickly as he takes another step closer to her and makes to place his hand over the marking. There’s a tremor in his hand right before he makes contact. As if he doesn’t want to touch it. . . or rather he wants to kill the one who made it.
Even the feathering whispers of his thoughts I can hear.
When his hand makes contact with Mavyn’s chest her eyes immediately glaze over. Varian flinches back at it but Mavyn clenches her jaw, grabs his wrist, and pulls his hand back to her chest. Holding him in place as her nails dig into his wrist.
“Don’t bother stopping now.”
Barely a breath and then it’s like a light that goes out.
As if a film goes over her physical body, she looks like a walking corpse.
She hadn’t been able to even speak when I grabbed her arm, the pain was too great.
It consumed her and I had only felt a flicker of it through her mind when she had to tell me to let go non-verbally.
“What is happening to her?” Varian rumbles. Furious eyes point to me but he must have enacted his empathic magic because Mavyn answers him with truth filling her words.
“Burning,” she whispers. Monotone and lifeless. “He said he’d make sure I burn for all eternity.”
“Who?” Varian growls. Fiery eyes roving over her exposed skin.
But Mavyn keeps her mouth shut. It might be called truth pulling, but the one answering does have an option not to speak. Once they open their mouth they have no choice but to speak words of truth, but they can always choose not to open their mouth to begin with.
Another growl rumbles in Varian’s chest but he doesn’t push it. He can’t force her to open her mouth and speak. It doesn’t matter much anyway though, because we already know the answer. There’s only one being who could have caused her to burn. Caused her curse.
But there had been so much pain before. She had crumbled, crippled by it, unable to speak, unable to move. Yet now she stands perfectly still, whispering her answers but still speaking them. You wouldn’t know how much pain she’s in. Not until you look in her eyes and see nothing.
No expression, no emotion, no life. No soul.
It’s grating on my own soul.
“Where did you go two nights ago after the Willow of Lore ceremony?”
The force that is Varian’s voice when he’s truth pulling is so great even I can feel it without him touching me. Heeding me to answer even though the question is not directed at me. I can’t image how it feels for Mavyn.
Not that she shows it at all.
“Running.”
Even with my advanced hearing I have to strain to hear her. It won’t hurt my fucking ass. She may not show she’s in pain but you can fucking tell. She’s barely breathing and her voice and words reflect that.
Varian rumbles, “Running where?”
Something slashes through her eyes. A flash of light or an emotion that was too quick for me to process. “Away.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s not fair.”
A tremor shakes her entire body and a rainstorm scent bursts through the room as Mavyn’s nails puncture through Varian’s skin. He doesn’t flinch at it but liquid builds on Mavyn’s waterline.
“Music is mine,” she barely breathes. “And he hates me because of it. Thinks I’m too worthless for it.”
Confusion vibrates through Varian as he asks, “Who?”
“Blood demon.” And I think I might just kill who I’ve always seen as a brother. “Not even the sun devil took my song away.”
I’m going to kill him.
I glance at Varian with questions. The first being why he also wants to murder Thorne.
“Is that why you destroyed Thorne’s rooms?”
The room goes exceptionally quiet as we all wait for her to answer. I already know she didn’t do it – couldn’t have done it – but for some reason the rest of them think she did.
“I did not,” she states.
You wouldn’t be able to notice it unless you were right next to him as I am, but Varian expels a soft sigh. If I didn’t know any better I would have thought he was relieved by her answer.
“Then where did you end the night? Where were you between the events of the Willow of Lore ceremony two nights ago and your dorm room this morning?”
That flash in her eyes happens again. “Burning.” My true devil claws at my soul. “In the sun death realm.” I think my eyes go black for a second as my true devil takes control before it’s reminded that he can’t come out. Mavyn’s voice in our head telling me I need to keep it in check for her.
Varian’s aura deepens with a destruction that could cripple this entire school. His voice darkens into something that isn’t entirely his. His magic growing to a new level I’ve never seen.
“Did you burn Thorne’s rooms?”
A final question, a blunt question. Nothing but truth pulling, this time giving Mavyn no choice but to answer.
“No.”
And the second the word leaves her lips Varian rips his hand away from her. He turns away and disperses his magic so we’re no longer all suffocating.
“She was telling the truth,” he states to those still in the room. Thorne, his and my father, and the Dean. “She didn’t do it.”
I step towards Mavyn ready to grab her because she doesn’t look any different. Varian let her go and yet her eyes are still glossed over and lifeless. Her right hand is still holding her collar down and her left is in its same position when she had been grabbing Varian’s wrist.
“Then we need to question the staff and groundskeepers again. We might also need to ask one of the stone witches from Corr to come extract the sights from the gargoyles around the university.”
“Of course, Mr. Arcturus, I’ll have a letter sent to Moiraio Academy.”
“Mavyn?” I whisper, ignoring the conversation happening behind me. I can’t hear her breath anymore. “Mavyn, can you look at me?”
Her skin has gotten paler and the circles under her eyes have gotten darker. Her color is draining away and my aura begins thrumming tightly around me.
“Mavyn?” I try again. “Firecracker?”
My eyes dip down to the claiming mark on her chest and there’s a tremor through the ground.
The conversation behind me dies but nothing can take my focus away from my fated.
I can’t even try running invisible fingers over her mental shields because I don’t want her thinking I’m trying to read her thoughts.
It feels like when she first disappeared and all that remained were ashes.
Helpless.
Worthless.
I can’t do anything.
“Mavyn?”
Desperation hangs on each syllable. Someone says my name but it’s background noise. Something inside cracks and I know I need to keep it together. I can’t let my true devil out. I can’t let him gain control.
But I am not as strong as Varian. I am not as controlled as Darian.
I don’t have the calculated mind of Thorne or even the knowledge of Castiel. I am not powerful like my father or practiced like Uncle Edmond Arcturus or even tempered like Uncle Jerusil Kyros.
I am nothing.
I am nothing.
I. Am. Nothing.
How am I fated to her? How could I possibly be worthy of her?
It’s simple. I’m not.