Chapter Eighteen
The car ride from the city up to Alaric’s cabin in the Adirondack Mountains was tense and awkward, to say the least. His father sat up front with their driver, leaving Alaric and me in the backseat where he sat as far from me as physically possible, cramming himself against the window where he kept his gaze fixed on the blurring landscape we passed.
Completely out of character with how he greeted me in the apartment only hours before.
He and his father had been charming when picking me up, coming all the way to the apartment door to fetch me and reassure Tiffany and Dan that there would be plenty of rest and parental supervision.
Both of them smiled confidently, Alaric pulling me close to him, the bond finally feeling whole, as if the distance of the past two days had left us both with an all-encompassing ache that only each other’s presence would fix.
I had almost fallen for his easy-going smile, the way his arm snaked around my waist, his thumb making lazy circles on the small of my back.
I almost believed that maybe I had been overreacting when it came to the missing pages from the book in the library, from my father’s missing ring, that maybe Sara-Kate was really okay and not emerging as a Bloodwright.
I was prepared to ask him about the pain, both physical and emotional, I had felt last night.
I had been worried all night, but didn’t reach out, unsure of how to broach the subject.
But later, when we were alone, I would ask. I would check in.
But as soon as we were out of the watchful eye of Tiffany, his gaze turned cold, his hand dropping, and I felt the ache within the bond flare up once more. He kept his shield up, keeping the silence between us, both physical and through the Twinflame bond.
The car was silent now, only the sound of Christmas music gently playing from the radio.
Their driver, Mr. Thomas, had tried to make polite conversation with me, asking about school and how I was liking living in New York compared to Georgia.
We conversed occasionally until Richard finally glared toward the driver, the only time he glanced away from his phone that he was constantly on the entire five-hour drive.
Mr. Thomas didn’t ask me any more questions after that.
We finally pulled up to an expansive house that looked more like a mansion versus the cozy cabin in the woods I had been picturing.
The three-story cabin was tucked into the woods, overlooking a frozen lake.
The air surrounding the place shimmered with what I had come to recognize as protection wards, most likely from Stonebound and death echoes.
The driver seemed unaware of the wards, simply pulling into the circle drive and parking in front.
All three men hurriedly got out of the car: Richard heading to unlock the front door, Mr. Thomas to the trunk to fetch the luggage, and Alaric coming around the corner to open my door for me.
I looked up at him as he opened the door, willing him to look at me or say something.
But he simply opened the door, his gaze fixed on something in the distance, and then led me to the front door that stood wide open.
I fought the tears that stung the back of my eyes and the sinking feeling in my stomach that made me want to beg Mr. Thomas just to take me back to the city.
I walked through the foyer into the living room, taking in the dark woodwork and tall ceilings.
There was a floor to ceiling window overlooking the frozen lake with a large fireplace to the right.
Two couches sat across from each other with a table in the middle, several blankets casually laid about, making the whole room look homey.
But the tension easing off of both Alaric and Richard made the warmth radiating from the roaring fire feel more like ice.
“I’ll show you to your room.” Alaric finally spoke, his tone somber and serious as he took my hand, leading me away from his father who stood in the doorway, watching us carefully.
I simply nodded, following him up to the third floor where a reading nook and two bedrooms were tucked away.
He opened the door to a small but comfortable guest room with a bathroom attached for privacy.
There was a balcony that opened out to the lake, the mountains in the distance shimmered in the incoming twilight, the sky a beautiful pink and purple as the sun began to dip below the horizon.
My bag was already in my room, sitting at the end of the bed. I held myself as I looked out over the lake, the quiet feeling foreign after living in the city for so long.
“Dinner will be ready in about an hour.” Alaric turned, ready to close the door and leave.
“Are you really going to ignore me this whole weekend?” I finally snapped, feeling the undeniable tug on the bond that I knew he could feel too.
His face winced, like I’d slapped him. “I’m not the one who has trust issues, Mari. You think I’m the enemy here. I can feel it every time you pull away.”
“If you don’t want me to doubt you, then stop giving me reasons to,” I responded harshly, taking a step toward him without even realizing it. “What happened last night? Did someone hurt you?”
When he didn’t respond, I continued.
“I felt something through the bond, like you had been punched, physically and emotionally. I was going to text, but I wasn’t sure if you were just training or . . .” I trailed off, my rambling getting quieter with each word.
He looked taken aback before understanding clouded his eyes.
“It’s complicated,” he replied lamely, his grip on the door tightening so much that his knuckles turned white. “And I can’t say more than that.”
Before I could reply, he left, the door closing with a final click. I sat on the edge of the bed, staring after the closed door, and finally let myself cry.
The bond pulsed like a wound between us, raw and aching, and I wondered how much more strain it could take before it finally broke.
I walked down the steps of the staircase, the smell of dinner wafting up to me.
In any other context, the scent of grilled steaks, baked potatoes, and asparagus would make my mouth water.
But I felt nothing but a heavy stone in my stomach.
I made my way through the living room to the grand dining room, just off the kitchen.
The table was set with three place settings, one at the head of the table where Richard already sat, his eyes on his phone.
Alaric sat to his right, his gaze intense as it turned to me.
Richard looked up briefly, gesturing for me to sit at his left, across from Alaric.
The food was already on the table, but no one moved to put some on their plates. Richard continued to type away on his phone, ignoring both Alaric and I who sat staring at each other across the table, so close, but feeling a million miles away.
“Go on,” Richard drawled lazily, his eyes glancing between Alaric and me. “Eat.”
Alaric immediately obeyed, putting food on his plate, and I followed suit. Richard eventually put his phone down on the table and filled his plate as well.
The silence echoed in the place so loudly, it felt hard to breathe.
“I didn’t know you could cook, Mr. Gaines.” I tried to think of something to say, something normal, but it came out awkward and stilted, like lines I had memorized but didn’t deliver properly.
He laughed loudly, looking at me as if I were an amusing, ignorant child. “No, I did not cook this. Our caretakers for this place prepared meals for the weekend. All that was needed was for them to be heated up.”
“Oh,” I replied lamely, my gaze slipping to Alaric’s, whose green eyes were set on mine.
Alaric continued to chew, his jaw tense as his gaze flickered between his father and me.
“How have your training sessions been going?” Richard asked, his voice booming and echoing around the room. “I noticed that Mari was absent from them this week.”
Alaric rolled his shoulders, turning to his father. “She needed rest. She’s had a lot put on her in just a short amount of time.”
Richard glanced at me, his gaze intense as it assessed me. I pushed the food around on my plate, the pit in my stomach keeping me from eating.
“I’m feeling much better now,” I replied lamely, trying to reinsert myself into the conversation. Richard had a bad habit of speaking about me as if I weren’t in the room.
“That’s good,” he replied as he took another mouthful of steak. He continued to speak as he chewed around it. “This weekend is an excellent opportunity for you to hone more of your skills, especially abilities only Twinflames can accomplish.”
“Like what?” I pondered, glancing at Alaric, who was holding his fork so tightly it looked like he was close to bending the metal.
“Oh, there are so many legends surrounding the Twinflame bond, it’s difficult to ascertain which is fact and which is fiction, but Elias has done some more digging. There have been accounts of Twinflames being able to sharpen their abilities to Flamewalk or Truthfire.”
“What are those?”
Richard set his fork down, taking a long gulp of his red wine before turning his full attention on me, his eyes darkening, his grin spreading across his face in such a way that it made his skin look too tight, too stretched out.
“To Flamewalk would be the ability to teleport from one place to another. Of course, you two would start small, say from one side of a room to another, but imagine if you worked hard enough. One of you could be in New York and the other in Paris, and the two of you could project yourselves to each other in mere moments.”
I gulped, the idea of teleportation seeming too much like a fairytale to be true.
“And what about Truthfire?” I mumbled quietly.