Chapter 7
Uncertain Restlessness
Fynn
There’s something wrong with me; I can feel it as it slithers inside my mind, nesting and festering.
It's as if it is slowly corrupting my soul, making me lash out at those I hold dear. I've been struggling lately to contain myself around Jodelle; even her breathing sometimes gets on my nerves. And Caria… I sense it in my bones; part of me is tempted to hurt her in the worst ways possible. It’s as if my skin is constantly burning, with little pinpricks urging me to give in to the darkness that’s desperately clawing at me.
Giving in is the only time I experience relief, a sensation that numbs me.
My mind seems to be less my own with each passing day, as a shrouding darkness poisons me slowly.
Until now, my mind was consumed by thoughts of Harlot and how I wanted her dead in my hands, but that seems to be shifting.
At first, not as often, but nowadays enough to instill a harrowing fear in me.
I see the bruises I leave on Jodelle's fair skin, the purple and blue hues blending together like a watercolor painting, and the way she flinches when I come near or touch her. It pains me to see her like this; my heart aches for her, yet not entirely. Oddly enough, she doesn’t run away from me, as if she’s shackled to me by an invisible force.
Although I can see in her eyes that she doesn’t want to be close to me, especially after my explosive behavior lately.
Is that what a soulmate entails? The inability to leave one another? Or is it that curse Caria spoke of?
I pinch the bridge of my nose and let out a deep breath.
Caria gives me a troubled mind as well, with her fickle nature and blatant lies.
She seems to believe I fell for her made-up stories.
Her running away from her coven. I scoff at the idea.
But how can I trust Caria when both Faas and Lucian, albeit unwittingly, confirmed that she wasn't telling the truth? I just can’t pinpoint why she would withhold the fact that she’s knowledgeable about Aurum. Why would she keep that from me?
I’m going to meet with the dhampir again today, at least one creature that seems to share their tales, regardless of whether it’s in their own interest or not.
I’m sick and tired of being left in the dark in a world where I’m considered food.
If it weren’t for the magic coating me, chances are I wouldn’t be alive today.
Perhaps that’s why Harlot did what she did—a guaranteed safekeeping.
None of the darklings dares to come near that fucking leech of hers, an apex predator.
Caria hasn’t even glanced my way since our altercation the other day, and I don’t know how to set it right.
It doesn’t matter that I think she lied to me; it doesn’t justify my behavior to her.
Besides, I want to believe it was for a good reason, as part of me is in love with her.
I realized that when Jodelle suddenly insinuated that she was a threat to Caria, now that she had siphoned some of my magic.
The white-hot rage I felt, the desire to rip Jodelle’s head off and tear open her ribcage, all to prove to Caria that she’d no longer be a threat to her.
Then thoughts wormed their way into my brain…
Why not kill them both and rip their hearts out? Burn the witch to ashes and snap the other’s neck? Then I can finally focus on the crucial part: murdering my sister.
I almost did it, setting Caria ablaze, if it hadn’t been for Jodelle’s interruption.
Her ignoring me made me angry, and when that male witch arrived, like a knight in shining armor, all I wanted was to show her that he meant nothing.
No one could defeat me, not even her Prince Charming with his experience and necromancy magic.
I have the dhampir under control, and soon, I’ll make that Umbra bow down to me as well; while I am at it, that asshole witch could fall on his knees too.
With those three as my henchmen, and Jodelle and Caria by my side as my wives, I will be the most powerful man in the world, as long as I have my Aurum.
Both women will give me heirs, and depending on which child harbors the most powers, that’s the one who will follow in my footsteps.
They all see me as a weak human, reliant on the magic that’s been infused into me, but I’ll prove them wrong.
The first one to fully submit to me is that Umbra, the leech that’s bound to Harlot.
I’ll make him witness the death of his mate helplessly, as I slaughter my sister after hours of torture, her body and mind broken.
He’ll fall asleep with the sound of her screams echoing in his mind.
Tormenting him in his nightmares, haunted by images of her mutilated body, and during the day, he’ll live with the shame of not being strong enough to save her.
I laugh at the fantasy, like a villain, in the silence that surrounds me.
As I stroll through the streets, alleys, and under stone archways, conversation turns to whispers or stops altogether.
Darklings make room for me, stepping aside, and some begin to cough when they’re too near me.
I know the magic that oozes from me burns their nostrils and throats, yet I don’t try to maintain it.
With a menacing grin, I continue my path, my footsteps echoing on the cobblestones that decorate the streets.
I hear windows closing with a soft thud and creatures scampering.
When I arrive at the city square, the trees that adorn it are in full bloom, their cherry blossom petals drifting through the air on a soft breeze.
The bloated corpse of the witch I burned to death still lies in the same place, untouched aside from bitemarks from rodents and other vermin, but none of the tooth marks originate from a vampire.
I kick against the lifeless body, and chunks of rotten flesh splatter across the stones.
Some passing witches glare at me in disgust, but none of them speak up, afraid to end up in the same place.
I’m sure my forcing them to leave the body prevents this particular witch from passing on to the afterlife, leaving her trapped in some sort of limbo—I hope it does.
Leaving the city walls behind, I follow the sandy path that winds its way to the enchanted forest, where the Silent Fortress looms, home to the Umbra.
At the crossroads, a part of me longs to push on toward the forest, despite knowing it will never let me pass, especially once the trees discover my intentions to harm their master and how I have mistreated Jodelle, whom it cherishes.
Ignoring my desires, I turn toward the spot where Faas and his human companions live.
As I enter the compound, I’m met with curious stares, and I can almost taste the testosterone in the air.
Young men are working out, lifting weights, and honing their skills with their weapons.
Archers aim at red-painted targets on trees, their bark splintered where the points of the arrows enter over and over, while others throw knives at hay-filled sacks marked with similar red markings.
This is the first time I’m here during the day, out in the open, no longer in secrecy.
Or perhaps these guys don’t know who I am.
I walk to Faas’s place and knock rapidly on the door. Within seconds, the door swings open, and the large creature steps out. He barely fits through the door, given his massive shoulders and large frame.
“Fynn, welcome back.” The dhampir grins, a row of sharp teeth on display. His unnatural green eyes take on an even more sinister glow in the sunlight, as if the daylight enhances it. They remind me of emerald marbles.
“Walk with me,” he says, without waiting for my response, and he strides away. I follow suit.
“I heard from a little birdy, with a name that starts with a C, that your twin sister and her mate are on the move.”
“What did you do to Caria?” I hiss, fury brewing inside me, hearing he spoke to my witch.
“Oh, relax, she’s okay. The death witch and I get along just fine.” He grins at me, and I suppress a shudder seeing those pointy fangs. “Did you miss the part about your sister?”
“She’s still in Valorya?” I ask, and suddenly my interest is back, forgetting about Caria.
My fickle mood gives me a headache, and my priorities keep switching from consuming rage to a desperate desire to rip my sister to shreds.
“Is she—” Faas cuts me off.
“No, of course she isn’t alone, I said they were both in Valorya. I already told you, I have no quarrel with the Umbra, and you’re on your own for that part.”
“She’s at the witches' district, the youngling claimed to have no idea why your sister was there. But I do, they are there to find out more about your mother’s activities.”
I jerk my head at the dhampir. “My mother?”
Faas looks at me in surprise, narrowing his eyes. “What is it exactly that you do know?”
Something about the dhampir frightens me, and I reveal what Caria told me about the curse and how it affects both my sister and me. I explain how my mind is becoming more volatile and violent, and it takes all my strength to contain it.
“Come, Fynn. It’s time you and I have a serious talk,” Faas says, beckoning me.
We walk through a part of the woods that isn't magical—the hatred of the magical part toward me makes it impossible to enter—until we reach a large lake with crystal-clear water. I recognize this part. The lake is called Mirror Lake, Faas tells me. He points to the weeping willows that surround the shimmering water. Up close, I notice the constant drip of dew, like tears, sliding into the lake. I walk toward the rim of the water, curious to see the trees’ tears up close, yet the shimmering water draws my attention.