Chapter 17 Hell Hath Fury
Hell Hath Fury
HARLOT
“Do you think Faas can keep Elijah away from me? He seemed hysterical the last time we saw him… Would keeping him out of reach, at a distance from me, further tear down the erroneous connection?” I ask Emrys guardedly.
“I’m certain the Dhampir can keep him under control, my love, and if Elijah decides to go against his orders…” he shrugs, “which honestly most likely will happen as the curse demands it from him, Faas might act upon his threats.”
Emrys ponders for a second before he continues.
“Worst case scenario, I will move you into the city where it’s impossible for him to reach you,” Emrys muses.
The image of Elijah having his throat sliced, or worse, being torn apart by Faas, is sickening, yet the feeling is overtaken by euphoria, a sense of absolution.
The constant pull and push of emotions is draining me, not only when it comes to Elijah; the thought of ending Fynn’s life, lately, consumes almost every minute of my day. It’s exhausting.
“Perhaps Faas can take care of Fynn as well for me if he’s already dealing with my demons,” I half-joke.
Emrys laughs at that, his pointed teeth showing, an amused twinkle in those darkened eyes.
“That would kill two birds with one stone indeed. Tell me, Tempest, are you afraid of what will happen to Elijah if Faas keeps him from you?”
It’s a serious question; one I have avoided considering.
I mull over the ask; part of me is terrified of the consequences the Dhampir will impose on him, but another part of me, a slightly more prominent part of me, would rather have it happen yesterday than tomorrow.
His death would bring me a welcome peace of mind.
My yearning for autonomy is more important than his life.
I’m uncertain if I will feel responsible for his death, if it comes to that.
A nagging voice in the back of my mind holds me hostage, a question that arises each time I acknowledge that I do want him to die.
Doesn’t Elijah deserve a fair chance at building his own life, experiencing love, and knowing the actual truth?
Is it really for me to decide that his life must end so I can be released?
“You want to try to talk to him again, don’t you, my little tempest? Try to convince him that the voices he hears whispering aren’t truthful. I don’t even have to hear your thoughts; your face tells me all.”
Emrys looks at me lovingly, a simper plastered on his face, and it makes me question once more how I found such a loving and understanding man.
Our souls were destined to meet, to recognize one another, and to seek each other out.
He and I, it’s as if we’ve met in a previous lifetime; our familiarity is sometimes almost scary.
“I do…” I confess.
“Perhaps…” Emrys interrupts me, already knowing what I want to ask of him.
He finishes my sentence, takes hold of my hands, and tells me he will ask Faas for the favor of staying close in case Elijah loses his mind upon seeing me, the curse negatively influencing him.
Emrys tells me he’ll be back within a few minutes, gives me a kiss that makes me yearn for more, and vanishes into the almost-black shadows.
I drop into a moss-green velvet balloon chair, my eyes glued to the spot where Emrys disappeared.
I notice I’m feeling nervous, an uneasy feeling takes hold of me, a foreboding, trying to tell me I am making a huge mistake and that I should leave Elijah alone.
This is an impossible demand, and the tug between my head and heart is still waging a war; even if my heart appears to be on the road to victory, the curse does not allow my mind to surrender easily.
It compels me to seek him out; it commands me to do so.
I have to speak to Elijah to make him see the fallacy of it all, to keep myself safe, and, most of all, to protect my love, Emrys.
I hate seeing him hurt because of all this, a corrupted destiny shadowing our fated connection.
Despite his words, I can feel it, the torment inside of him, and I loathe myself for being the cause of his distress.
Rippling in the shadows tells me my monster has safely returned to me. Even though Faas is no match for him, I still worry and exhale a deep breath in relief as I see Emrys reappear unscathed.
He steps out of the darkness, and his beauty captivates me. His appearance is ethereal, with his thick, dark hair and intriguing, almost-black eyes—only a slight hint of gray due to our bonding.
“An eternity with you will still not be enough,” I blurt out, my cheeks immediately reddening from embarrassment.
I slap my hand over my mouth as if it will reverse the words I’ve just spoken.
For a long time, I have been consumed by the thought of asking him to turn me, to make me like him, to be immortal, but the burden of the curse has made me hesitant about my desires.
Seeing him like this, a man made of darkness, my heart thunders, my core heats, and every cell in my body calls for him.
Our tale of fated love must never end; my inescapable death is an impending doom upon our happiness.
He tilts his head at me; an eyebrow raised at my sudden outburst. His dark eyes soften as he looks at me, and the corners of his mouth curl upward.
“I couldn’t agree more with that statement, my Lucem Mei. I also want to be at the center of your storm for an unending lifetime.”
He cups my face with his large hands, his dark eyes sorrowful as they meet mine.
“Why do you feel ashamed to say it out loud, darling?”
“Because it’s a selfish desire, not knowing how it’ll affect the curse, how it’ll affect you. It’s greedy, unwilling to accept I will only have this lifetime with you; instead, I want you for an eternity,” I whisper.
“I vow to you now, curse or not, you and I will spend eternity together. I will make sure of that, my little tempest. This is my pledge to you, one I promise to keep. When all of this is over, we will take that step, forge ourselves into immortality.”
He kisses my forehead softly, and I lean into his touch.
His words secure our bond even tighter. Every word spoken is an assurance, a commitment to me and our relationship.
As I lay my head on his chest, I ask him about his short talk with Faas, my curiosity taking over, and I wonder aloud if the Dhampir is trustworthy.
“The Dhampir loves his life too much to put it at risk, Tempest, especially for some human he deems replaceable. He has his own causes to worry about; the Dhampir is stalking the gates of Valorya for a reason. A personal one, I suspect.”
“He agreed, though. Tomorrow evening, you can speak with Elijah. Faas and I will stay nearby in case it escalates. For now, let me relieve you of your thoughts and show you endlessly what you can expect once you’re turned.”
Emrys grabs my waist and starts undressing me.
My dress falls to the ground, and hurriedly, I start unbuttoning his black blouse.
His muscles come into view, and I press my breasts against his broad chest. His fangs slide against the skin of my neck, and I shudder in anticipation as his teeth pierce through.
I moan softly as pleasure courses through me, his shadows roaming over my naked body, ready to play.
Hopefully, that'll be a trait we share once I become an Umbra: controlling shadows.
The next evening comes too fast, and I feel unsure if I am ready for this.
Emrys takes me with him; his face has dismay written all over it, and I cannot blame him.
Every fiber in my body screams at me that this is a bad idea.
I silence the voices; I must do this, an obligation I developed toward Elijah.
Emrys and I travel through the darkened shadows and step out at Faas’s residence, a wooden trailer, just outside the city walls of Valorya.
I have no answer as to why the group still resides here after their defeat.
No new attack has been launched, yet they remain at these premises.
Emrys mentions he suspects there is a personal motivation behind it all.
Faas welcomes us as if we were old friends, offering us a drink and food.
A board in front of him displays a variety of food, including fresh meats, cheeses, and even fruit.
Emrys respectfully declines the blood, informing the Dhampir that we are merely here to speak to Elijah.
I frown at the sight of the silver chalice in the Dhampir’s hand, holding the red-colored warm fluid—fresh blood.
Emrys does not seem to care where it comes from, as he ignores the chalice.
Faas escorts us outside and points us in the direction of Elijah’s living quarters.
He mentions being nearby if required, then wanders off.
I stare at the Dhampir as he walks away, turning his broad back toward us.
I swallow as I realize Faas will not be in the room while confronting Elijah, as I expected him to be.
I will be alone with Elijah. An uneasiness creeps in like a nagging discomfort, and I become restless.
Emrys decides to stay close by, too, unwilling to put my fate entirely in the hands of the Dhampir.
His discomfort at the whole situation is palpable.
My own uneasiness makes me queasy, and part of me wants to run away as far as possible, severing me from the situation by disappearing.
I take a deep breath, walk to the wooden trailer, knock, and open the door to Elijah’s home.
I don’t turn my head to glance at Emrys before I close the door quickly, afraid I will turn on my heel and run to him, telling him to take me away, like I always do, knowing he would gladly oblige my request.