7. SEVEN #2
I met Fionn’s gaze once more and noticed a flicker of accomplishment in his eyes—a recognition that I should not be underestimated and that this dinner was just the first of many challenges I would face in this strange, new world.
I bit into a flaky, creamy pastry and almost swooned from the incredible flavours that seemed familiar yet strange.
The taste was delicately spicy yet sweet, like peaches layered with the scent of a Moroccan market.
The juice wasn't orange; it was similar but had an undertone of something I didn’t recognize.
Cillian poured a glass of wine and sipped it. Fionn and Torin ate in silence, but their gazes struck me like daggers.
For a brief moment, Fionn’s eyes darkened to an almost black shade, a transformation so sudden that it seemed unnatural.
No one’s eyes can change that quickly. It made him look almost possessed.
It couldn’t be real. It had to be the lighting.
Fionn leaned forward, slamming his wine glass down on the table as he became unnaturally still.
"You need to choose, Tilly. Or we will choose for you. We've been watching you for months."
My fork froze halfway to my mouth. My appetite vanished, chased away by a growing dread that knotted my stomach.
The sound of the glass hitting the wood echoed in my head.
I gently placed the fork down. The clink of the metal sounded unusually loud in the silence.
A wave of anxiety washed over me, quickly replacing the hunger that had been nagging at my stomach moments before.
The sound felt final.
The word choose, hit me like a physical slap.
It wasn’t an invitation. It was an ultimatum. Choose what, exactly? A role… one of them?
I didn't know if they wanted a wife or a slave, and that uncertainty terrified me more than anything else.
"What the hell are you talking about?" My voice cracked, but I didn’t back down. "You’ve been watching me for months. Why? What am I supposed to choose? Is it one of you? for what?"
"Leave her be," Cillian intervened. "Can't you wait until she's finished eating?"
Leaning back in his chair, Torin swirled the wine in his glass and grinned. "My Cillian, aren't we love-struck? Shall we all cast our gauntlets to the table? Shall we recite the poetry of love and passion?"
Cillian's frustration was palpable as he shot a glare at Torin, his patience wearing thin. His jaw clenched, but his voice stayed level.
"What's wrong, brother? Are you sulking because Tilly isn't paying more attention to your insipid remarks?
It's no surprise you've failed at winning her over with your behaviour. Then without hesitation, he turned towards Fionn. "And you – don’t think your authority makes you untouchable. It just makes you predictable.”
Fionn leapt from his chair so abruptly that it toppled to the floor. Descending on Cillian with terrifying speed, the pair grappled and rolled across the rug. I jumped back, my heart hammering in my chest, fear and worry battling for dominance.
This wasn’t just a fight, this was madness. I thought, despair creeping into the edges of my panic
"Brother, you've interfered one too many times today," Fionn's voice cut through the chaos, his anger directed at Cillian.
"You abuse your position of authority!" Cillian shot back, his voice echoing through the room.
I stood frozen, watching the clash unfold. My stomach twisted. Cillian had been the only one to show me any kindness and now he was being dragged into this chaos. He didn’t deserve it. None of us did.
I didn’t trust Fionn. Not with his silence and his power over the others. And I was scared that he might actually hurt his brother.
"Enough!" Torin shouted, bolting toward Cillian and pulling him from Fionn.
I found my voice — shaky, but loud enough to try. "Stop! Please! This isn’t solving anything!" But my words vanished into the noise, swallowed by the sound of fists .
Cillian angrily shoved Torin aside and continued to brawl with Fionn. They were both fast and strong. I feared they might tear each other apart.
I admired Cillian's courage, even as I feared the outcome.
"You need to stop treating her like this!" Cillian yelled as he grabbed Fionn by the throat and hurled him across the room.
I rushed from the table and retreated to the far end of the dining room, trying to make sure I didn't end up caught in the centre of the brawl. My heart was racing. Fionn's ruthlessness frightened me the most, especially when it turned on his own brother. I knew they’d taken me but that didn’t stop the fear twisting in my chest for Cillian.
He was kind and caring towards me. Was he as much a prisoner under Fionn’s rule as I was?
Torin didn’t move to help. He brushed off his sleeves, glanced at the mess, and sat back down with a shrug.
"Are you seriously not going to stop them?" I shouted, eyes locked on him. Cillian was my only ally. I couldn’t just watch him get torn apart”
"Aren't you enjoying the show?" Torin asked, pouring himself another drink with a smirk.
He stared at me over the rim of his glass. His eyes gleamed, not amused, but calculating. He lowered the wine from his lips, watching me with predatory eyes.
"Don't think about running off. You'll miss all the fun." Torin grinned, but the threat was clear. It wasn’t just a warning. It was a promise.
It felt like he’d reached into my thoughts and plucked the idea straight from them.
Even though I had decided against making a break for it, I knew better than to test him.
I decided it would be easier to stay close to Torin than have him grab me and drag me back.
Every instinct screamed to keep my distance, but survival demanded proximity.
I reluctantly made my way back to the table .
"Tilly, little darling..." He set the glass down slowly and deliberately, trying to provoke me.
"Would you like to play a game?"
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. The room was still spinning from the fight.
"It’s hardly the time for games," I said, my patience wearing thin with Torin.
"You will like this one," he replied, his voice low and laced with wickedness.
"It’s a game where our love is the prize..."
He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"But death... is the cost."
His brothers were bleeding, and Torin was inviting me into a game of love and death as if it were foreplay.
I didn’t know whether to scream or laugh, but I knew better than to do either.
He picked his drink back up, unbothered.
"You've probably surmised by now that we're not ordinary men. We're from an ancient race that existed long before civilisation touched this world. We've travelled among the stars, but Earth has intrigued us and provided us with what we need."
He cast me an appraising look.
"We came here for you. No matter what you do, there's no escaping your fate for it is entwined with ours."
The dining room doors burst open. Seraphina strode in with a furious look at the sight of the wrangling brothers.
"How dare you act disgracefully in the Rosenwacht-Halle! Stop this at once!" Her voice, powerful and unwavering, cut through the chaos, offering a momentary reprieve from the fight.