Chapter 7 Alina #3
“Of course not, darling,” I purred, slipping easily into the role he expected. “I only wish to enjoy the beauty of this land before we get lost in each other’s arms.”
I stepped closer, trailing my fingers lightly along his neatly trimmed beard.
His face lit up, clearly convinced I was playing coy.
“Of course, my sweet,” he said. “Let me settle you—and then I’ll tend to the horses.”
He strode to the back of the carriage and retrieved a neatly packed wicker picnic basket. Without asking for my preference, he chose a patch of grass he deemed suitable, unrolling the blanket with a flourish and laying out food and wine as if he were the hero of some romantic tale.
“My darling Alina,” he said, gesturing grandly. “Would you care to join me?”
I tilted my head and smiled sweetly. “Aren’t you going to turn the horses out in the grass?” I asked, voice like honey. “You don’t expect them to inhale road dust all afternoon, do you?”
He blinked, glancing toward the still-hitched Andalusians. “You’re right, my dear. I lost my head for a moment.”
As he fussed with the reins and unbuckled harnesses, I moved behind him silently.
Then, I screamed.
A sudden shriek that shattered the peaceful air.
I clapped my hands loudly, stomping the ground. The horses reared, startled, their muscles tightening with alarm. They tossed their heads, snorting and whinnying, hooves scraping the earth as panic set in.
Their eyes widened in terror. They tugged violently at their restraints, shrieking into the sky.
“Alina!” Davide shouted, spinning toward me, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Stop this foolish behavior at once!”
I didn’t stop.
I screamed again.
Louder.
Wilder.
I stomped, flailed, and laughed as the horses bucked and panicked—my chaos feeding theirs, the frenzy crackling through the air.
Davide bellowed commands, but his voice was nothing against the fury of prey instincts ignited. The Andalusians reared, hooves striking skyward before crashing down again. One hoof collided with Davide’s skull.
The sound was sickening.
He flew—his body twisting midair before slamming against the earth in a crumpled heap. Motionless.
Lifeless.
I froze.
And then… I laughed. A soft, breathless laugh as I stepped forward, brushing dirt from my skirts.
When my movements ceased, I murmured soothing words to Ivory Moon and Frostfire. They backed away, their wide eyes still wild with fear. But they listened. They always listened to me.
Now what?
I hadn’t thought this far.
I turned, strolled toward the picnic blanket, and plucked a ripe pear from the basket. Its skin was warm from the sun. I bit into it, the sweet juice dribbling down my chin as I chewed, thoughtful. When I was done, I pitched the core into the tall grass and watched it vanish.
Then, I sauntered toward Davide’s body.
He lay crooked on the ground, blood puddling beneath his head like a blooming shadow. I crouched beside him and gave his shoulder a light shake.
“Davide?” I cooed softly.
No response.
“Are you alive, my dear?” Still nothing. Only silence and the seep of red.
I stood, placed my hands on my hips, and looked around. The clearing was secluded. Quiet. Far from any road or witness.
“Well,” I sighed. “I suppose it’s up to me to gather help.”
I made my way to the carriage. My hands were steady as I unfastened the traces, removed the reins, and unbuckled the breast collar and backband. The horses shivered beneath my touch, but I worked methodically, whispering nonsense to keep them calm.
I slipped off the bridle and bit from Ivory Moon, and gave him a slap on the rump. He whinnied and galloped off toward the grassy knoll, his hooves pounding a steady beat of freedom.
I turned to Frostfire and gripped the reins. “I know, I know,” I murmured, brushing a hand along his neck. “You want to join him. But you have a job to do.”
With my free hand, I tousled my hair, tangling it, making it wild and windblown. Then I grabbed a fistful of his mane, pulled myself onto his back, and kicked him into a full gallop.
Each pounding stride summoned another emotion—fear, despair, trembling grief. I conjured them all from memory, layering my face with a mask I had perfected since the day I’d betrayed Francesco.
By the time I reached home, I was breathless.
I flung myself off the horse and bolted through the front door, sobbing.
“Papa!” I cried. “Come quick! Something’s happened to Davide!”
He burst from his study, alarm etched into every line of his face. “What is it, Alina?”
“The horses… panicked.” I let my voice tremble. “One of them kicked Davide. He wasn’t moving when I left him.”
I wrung my hands, eyes wide with crafted terror. “Oh, Papa… I fear he’s gone to his maker.”
My father’s eyes narrowed as he stared at me, suspicion clouding his gaze.
“Why is it that something tragic happens to every man who courts you?”
I gasped, feigning shock. “Papa, I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“Don’t you, Alina?” His tone was ice. “It’s time we set things right. We need to clean up this mess—and talk while we’re at it. You’re coming with me.”
He turned toward the door, his expression grim.
“No, Papa!” I cried. “I can’t take it anymore! I saw Davide’s lifeless body, and if you force me to relive that again, I swear—I’ll break down!”
Tears streamed down my face, hot and heavy. The fire in my chest burned brighter than ever, all-consuming and barely restrained.
Papa paused, glancing back at me for a second. Confidence and disappointment warred in his eyes, and then they hardened again.
“It doesn’t matter what you can or can’t take,” he said. “What matters is that we fix this, so it doesn’t happen again. Now come.”
Outside, he harnessed one of our horses to Davide’s and hitched them to the family carriage. I climbed in beside him, arms folded tight across my chest, lips pressed into a scowl.
“People are starting to talk, Alina,” he muttered as he clucked the horses forward. “They’re afraid to let their sons near you.”
Stupid birds chirped cheerily around us, as if mocking me. Their carefree songs grated against the tempest swirling inside me.
“I can’t help it if their sons are careless,” I snapped. “Or if they take me on rides with unruly, willful horses. You saw how they reacted. Did you see how they acted when I approached the carriage?”
Papa sighed deeply. “Yes, I saw. But it seems like misfortune follows you. When we found you, this… wasn’t the life your mother and I envisioned.”
My head turned toward him. “Found me?”
He clicked his tongue and urged the horses faster. For a long moment, he said nothing—just silence and hooves beating against the road like a ticking clock.
Finally, he spoke. “My beloved daughter… you’re adopted.”
The world shifted beneath me.
“Your mother and I were walking in the park, years ago. We found you nestled in a basket beneath a tree. There was a note pleading that whoever found you, care for you. We had tried… and failed… for years to conceive. So, we brought you home.”
My breath caught. “You… found me?”
He nodded, eyes still fixed ahead. “We gave your dagger to Giovanni. He told us you were a Timeborne. Not from this time. You were brought here through adoption—placed with us for reasons we still don’t fully understand.”
My hands trembled in my lap.
“A dagger?” I whispered. “Timeborne? What does that even mean?”
Papa swallowed hard. The only sound was the rhythmic clatter of hooves on the dusty road for a long time. Then, as we rounded a bend in the countryside, he finally spoke.
His voice was soft. Gentle. Too gentle.
“It means, my dear… that you can travel through time.”
I turned to him, my breath caught in my throat.
“You were born with a mystical dagger at your side. We found it in the basket with you. We gave it to Giovanni, our most trusted friend. He’s the one who told us what you are—a Timeborne. We didn’t want to tell you until you were ready. But now… you’re here. And the time has come.”
I sat motionless, the wind tugging at my hat, the countryside blurring past.
Time travel.
The words hardly registered. They didn’t feel real. I felt like I was drifting outside my body, watching the world shift on an axis I never knew existed. The ground beneath my life had cracked wide open, revealing something ancient. Something impossible.
Can I travel through time?
Could I go back to the past? Leap forward to the future? Change things? Undo mistakes? Rewrite fate?
A thousand thoughts swirled in my head—but one cut through them all, sharper than any blade.
Did Balthazar know?
Could he travel through time?
The question coiled in my gut like venom.
I should have known everything about him by now. I should have unraveled every secret. But in truth, I knew so little.
He came and went without warning. Vanished for weeks—sometimes months and encouraged me to take lovers in his absence, only to demand absolute devotion when he returned. He’d even killed some of them, his hands as bloodstained as they were possessive.
Whenever I questioned his travels, he’d smile and deflect.
“Let’s speak of other things, my love. Where I go is of no concern to you.”
And I’d let him.
Until now.
“There’s something else we need to discuss,” Papa said.
I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry.
More secrets. More truths waiting to undo me.
Part of me wanted to leap from the carriage. Run into the woods. Disappear before I had to hear what came next.
Instead, I sat frozen, unable to move, silently begging for the ground to open and swallow me whole.
My throat tightened as Papa’s words hit me like a crashing wave.
The rumors about me and Lord Balthazar weren’t just idle whispers anymore—they had found their way into my home. Into his ears. The man who raised me. The man who now looked at me as if I were something unfamiliar, something broken.
His eyes—so often stern—now shimmered with sadness. And yet, behind that sorrow lay something new. Accusation.
But how could he accuse me of something so vile? Of loving a monster?
I knew the things they said about Balthazar. I knew the rumors. The bodies. The blood. But none of it mattered because I loved him.
Fiercely. Desperately. Fatally.
He may not have been gentle. Or honest. Or safe.
But he was mine.
My father—no, the man who had raised me—had no right to judge. Not anymore. Because in that moment of silence between us, I realized something devastating—he never truly knew me. And maybe he never tried to.
The color drained from his face.
“Darling girl,” he whispered. “He’s not right for you. He’s dangerous. There are whispers… that he’s a murderer.”
He swallowed hard.
“He’ll kill you, too.”
My lips curled into a sneer, sharp with rage. “I don’t care,” I spat. “I’m going to be with Lord Balthazar. No matter what.”
Papa’s mouth drew into a stiff line. He said nothing more.
We continued the journey in silence—an unbearable, echoing silence that made the air between us feel colder with every passing mile.
I sat beside him, fuming. Burning.
For years, I’d toyed with lovers like a cat with mice—testing their limits, feeding on their desperation to please me. None had ever satisfied me. None had ever matched me.
Until Balthazar.
He was dark, unpredictable, unstoppable.
I didn’t trust him. Not because of the rumors that clung to him like a shadow, but because I could never tell what he truly wanted. Not even when he was inside me, not even when he whispered my name like a prayer; his eyes always held something back.
A secret. A shield.
And it drove me mad.
I was in love with him. Terrified of him. Obsessed with him.
And more than anything… I wanted to control him.
To unravel every secret he kept. To own every piece of him—his thoughts, desires, and past. To make him need me in a way he couldn’t escape. To make sure he could never leave me.
How?
I didn’t know.
But I would find a way.
I had to.