Chapter 10
Looming Ruin
Caria
“They know, Reiner. It’s been all over the witches’ territory—that damn Umbra and that girl, they’ve been seen there, spotted. They came straight out of that forsaken house of Helda’s. He didn’t even try to hide his presence there.”
My screams fade into whispers as Reiner watches me, following me with quiet fascination. Nothing about his demeanor indicates any sign of fear, but I can’t stop rambling.
“And if that isn’t bad enough, that we rubbed the Umbra the wrong way, there’s Fynn and his fucking dhampir. His new best friend,” I continue.
As Reiner remains silent, I slump into a chair as I rake my hands through my long, red hair, and I start to cry, no longer able to withhold the tears.
“We called it down on ourselves, this oncoming doom,” I sniff.
Reiner gets up and lifts me out of the chair, then sits down again with me in his arms. He pulls me onto his lap and wraps his arms around me, holding me gently. He kisses my forehead, then presses his head against mine, rocking me gently.
“It’s going to be okay, Caria. You and Fynn, that ordeal is over. Our business with him is finished. I told you before, and I’m telling you again, you’re not worth the risk. I refuse to lose you,” he says tenderly, kissing the tip of my nose.
“But—” I try to protest, but his lips capture mine, silencing me.
I refuse to give up, though; I’m almost there, we’re so close. All I need to do is steer clear of that bitch Jodelle and see if Fynn is willing to spill the secrets from that dhampir.
“Stop plotting your evil little schemes, my love,” Reiner whispers in my ear.
His breath tickles my skin as he nibbles on it. I giggle, my nose crinkling as I try to suppress a smile.
“I can see the wheels turning in your head—you’re up to something you shouldn’t be. Now, focus on me,” he demands.
With one strong arm wrapped firmly around my waist, his muscles bulging, he stands up, lifting my legs off the ground, and then hoists me over his shoulder, making me laugh.
He carries me to our bedroom, and I’m completely lost in the moment as he undresses me.
His tongue finds its way to its favorite spot between my legs, and I run my hand through his thick, platinum colored hair, holding him there, as I feel him grin against my clit.
He knows exactly how to steal my thoughts away and center them around him.
My eyes roll in the back of my head, as he enters first one, then two calloused fingers inside me, while he flicks his tongue against my sensitive spot.
I moan Reiner’s name loudly, any thought of Fynn, that green-eyed hellhound of his, or his parasitic bride forgotten.
I see him before he notices me, and I ensure I enter his line of sight, acting surprised to see his face. I gaze at Fynn cautiously, his moods more foul than pleasant lately, making him fickle and dangerous. A wide grin appears on his face, and I feel the relief ripple through me.
“Hey, stranger,” I smile, trying to sound playful, while I feel slightly uneasy.
“Hey,” he says, his response curt, not matching the smile he just gave me.
“So, how busy are you today?” I ask.
In an attempt to flirt, I lean over the counter, knowing my assets are on full display, and I prop my elbows underneath my breasts to make them more prominent. Fynn has a hard time keeping his eyes from dropping.
“Depends,” he responds, licking his lips unconsciously; the action makes my skin crawl.
“Maybe we can visit the flower field later today, with all the dahlias, near the lake,” I say, the words slip out before I can give it any more thought.
Reiner will be furious with me, but sometimes it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission.
“I’d love that, we should go for a swim there,” he says, meeting my gaze, his eyes darkening.
“Or not. That lake is dangerous, Fynn. It’ll trap you and drown you the moment you get near the ridge of the water. Dipping your toes will cost you your life.”
“Oh, really? I had no idea. How lucky am I to have you as a friend to tell me these things… I’ll stop by later, and we can go.”
With those words, he leaves, and I have a hunch I passed some sort of test. I’m convinced he knew about the lake…
not that it matters, since it's common knowledge around here, but if the dhampir told him that, it means he’s giving Fynn something he wants, which I don’t—knowledge about this world.
I shake my head; how could I have been so stupid to miss that?
All his earlier questions… he’s craving knowledge about our world, the one his mother has kept him from.
And all I’ve been giving him were breadcrumbs… riddled with lies.
Later that day, Fynn picks me up, and we walk toward the red flower field, both keeping our hands to ourselves.
Somehow it is awkward, not like ‘us’. Not that I want to feel his skin against mine, far from it, but the fact that he doesn’t seem to have the desire to touch me scares me.
It’s unlike him, and an uneasy feeling creeps up on me, a brooding foreboding.
Usually, he has a hard time keeping his hands to himself.
In silence, we take the same route as before, moving through thick foliage, and then, finally, the sweet scent of blooming flowers greets me.
I breathe in deeply. It’s one of my favorite places; the dahlias are always in bloom.
Magic feeds the roots, and part of me despises myself for the fact that I shared it with him.
As with our previous visits, we sit down among the flowers, only this time we’re closer to the water. I warn him not to get too close, and he jokes, asking whether I’m sure. If I still want him by my side, alive.
“What kind of stupid thing is that to joke about?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Is it stupid, Caria? Lately, it seems I know nothing, as everything… everyone I trusted to help me understand this world, lies to me.”
His eyes are icy, expressionless as he locks his gaze onto mine. His jaw tenses as he speaks.
“I don’t like lies, Caria—not even white lies. It’s what my mother and my sister constantly do, spreading words that I cannot trust. I hate it. I need you to be truthful with me; if you can’t, I won’t be able to see you anymore, and our friendship… or whatever this is, will be over.”
I swallow the rising fear, the taste bitter, then fold my arms. I tilt my chin and tell him he can ask me anything he wants.
Fynn smirks, but not the cute boyish kind—it's an arrogant smirk, like someone who knows too much and is ready to interrogate me. He has me exactly where he wants me, vulnerable and trapped. In that very moment, I realize that if I don’t answer to his liking, he’ll burn me to the ground.
I can tell by the emptiness that houses in his gaze.
It seems like Fynn’s evil inner demon has taken over, as if he is possessed, losing the battle that rages within him with each passing day.
I never particularly liked Fynn. I never saw him as anything more than someone who has something I need, but I’d rather deal with the other Fynn than this malicious, demonic side of him.
My skin breaks out in goosebumps when he speaks, his voice deeper than usual, more intense. Sweat beads collect on my forehead, and I do my best to control my loud thumping heart.
“I asked you before, but I’ll repeat myself. What do you know about Aurum?”
I don’t miss the undertone filled with malice.
I should never have come here, unable to foresee his volatile, erratic mood swings.
I grit my teeth and decide to be somewhat honest, as much truth as I can manage.
My jaw tightens, and the atmosphere around us shifts.
The air grows denser, the sun hotter—or maybe it’s Fynn’s doing—but it feels like my skin is burning from the heat.
“I know everything… It’s part of our upbringing,” I say softly.
“Speak up, Caria, don’t give me this shy-girl act. I know you better than that.”
Again, he licks his lips, and I feel bile rising in my throat at the thought of what he can force me into with just his mind.
I won’t survive it either—his body would sear through mine, leaving me a bloody, pulpy mess with blackened bones.
I underestimated how dangerous and fatal he can be to me in his current state, unaware of what Faas tutored him.
“I know about the Aurum. We’re taught about it in our coven lessons. It’s a large part of our history as blood witches," I say, louder this time.
“Good girl,” he mocks, tilting his head and grinning at me.
I bite back a snarl, despite a burning desire to wipe that grin off his face.
“Alright, next one! Why do you pretend you can’t control those shadows of yours?”
“That’s not a lie! I don’t know what that dumbass dhampir told you, but I am a youngling witch. I truly have trouble maintaining my powers; it’s part of the maturing process of a witch. We need to familiarize ourselves, and that can take years.”
Fynn slowly claps his hands, the sound menacing. “What a show…”
“I’m not lying, Fynn!”
As if to prove a point, my shadows start to spread on their own, sensing the threat Fynn is becoming. Large, smoky tendrils surround and coil around me. Tears pool in the corners of my eyes as I beg him to believe me.
“I love seeing you like this,” he murmurs, and I see the straining of his cock.