CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
41
Elara
Damn it all, Xulin’s gone batty again.
Those “fairies” he keeps company with must’ve slipped something hallucinogenic into his tea. It’s as if he’s lost touch with reality.
Every vampire shivers at the mere thought of fire. The fear of being consumed, utterly annihilated by those ravenous flames – it’s primal. So naturally, here I am, terrified out of my mind, and Xulin? Not a single flinch.
This “god” business he keeps spouting? Yeah, I’m starting to believe it. That steely composure in the face of such raw power… it’s unnerving.
I wanted out. Desperately. Escape meant the searing kiss of the flames, but staying here means enduring what Xulin has planned for me. Fuck. Neither option is acceptable.
Self-absorbed doesn’t even begin to describe him. The impending war, the “fates” screaming of bloodshed – none of it registers. All he wants is to bury his head in the sand while the world burns.
But here’s the thing. Despite his aloof exterior, I know – deep down, beneath that god-like facade – Xulin cares. He wouldn’t let me come to harm. The mark he placed on me, that’s proof. I trust that, even if the rest remains a mystery. He wouldn’t let his brothers scorch me, and he certainly wouldn’t let these flames devour me either.
Fear flickered, but then, just as quickly, it was extinguished.
With a determined breath, I marched towards the inferno. The flames roared to life, like someone had doused them in gasoline. Xulin’s doing, most likely. But I wouldn’t be deterred. I pressed on, the heat blistering, the edges of my vision blurring. Just as the flames began to lick at my skin, I recoiled, stumbling back a few paces. And just like that, the flames subsided.
A choked laugh, distinctly his, echoed from behind. So much for knight-in-shining-armor. He wasn’t even attempting to stop me, and here he was, laughing at my pathetic attempt at bravado? The urge to curse him bubbled up, hot and unwelcome. What if I did step further into the fire? That would be my suicide note right there. Did it even matter? Even if he cared, there was no way he’d allow the flames to lick at me, let alone consume me.
Taking another tentative step forward, the heat intensified, licking at my exposed skin. It danced just above my head, a playful predator toying with its prey.
Just as I teetered on the precipice, a hand – strong, calloused – yanked at my hair, dragging me back.
I landed with a surprised gasp against the solid wall of his chest, the scent of smoke mixed with spices and embers clinging to him like a second skin.
Intoxicating and suffocating, a perfect reflection of the man himself.
His voice, a low rumble, tickled my ear as he spoke. “Ever heard the saying, ‘Don’t play with fire if you don’t want to get burned’?”
A sardonic reply formed on my lips, mirroring his condescending tone. “And have you heard, ‘Don’t conjure infernos if you don’t want someone to get singed’?” It was a childish retort, but the absurdity of the situation left me fuming. Who conjures flames for someone to play in?
“Does it burn, Elara?” he questioned.
I scoffed, a flicker of annoyance igniting in my chest. “Should I take a dip in the infernal flames to answer that?” I retorted, mirroring his question with a sharp edge.
A throaty chuckle escaped him. “You already have, in a way,” he murmured, his hand lingering on my neck before trailing a scorching path down to my breasts. I sucked in a sharp breath, the near gasp a betrayal I fought to suppress. “Almost,” he added, his voice a caress, as his fingers tightened around my flesh.
A soft moan escaped my lips, a primal sound that ignited a war within me. ‘Don’t,’ I chastised myself silently. ‘He doesn’t deserve that, not now, not when he’s chosen bloodshed over reason.’ The anger I felt for his decision was a simmering ember, laced with a potent cocktail of other emotions.
“Xul...” The word escaped on another gasp as his grip tightened possessively. It was a primal response, a flicker of heat warring with the fierce resistance clawing at me. “I... I don’t want this,” I stammered, the words raw with conflicting emotions.
“Peace isn’t what truly brought you here, Elarabeth,” he countered, his voice a husky murmur against my ear.
“Perhaps not,” I admitted, the irresistance evident. “I came here clinging to the naive hope for a peaceful resolution, a fool’s dream it seems.” A sharp inhale escaped my lips as I bit down on them, the sting a welcome distraction from the yearning his touch ignited. His lips brushed against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. A ghost of a bite followed, then a trail of kisses along the sensitive skin where his fangs had previously pierced.
“And...?” he prompted, his voice husky.
“And nothing,” I said, my voice strained.
“Why this desperate plea for peace, Elarabeth?” His fingers skimmed both breasts, sending a jolt through me. A strangled moan tore from my throat, a betrayal of my resolve.
Heat flooded my cheeks. “I... I don’t know!” I confessed, frustration lacing my voice.
“No reason, then?” he murmured, skepticism coloring his tone. “Why plead for this elusive ‘peace’ if you have no grounding for your desire?”
“I-I…” I stammered, searching for a coherent response. “Intervention, Xulin, that’s what I need,” I finally managed. “And I believe you’re the only one who can enforce it.”
A shiver ran down my spine as Xul spoke. “Peace? A fragile thing, easily shattered. Even the humans in Chimera City can’t grasp it. Power struggles consume them, a constant game of oppression. The rich lord over the poor, brother turns on brother for a sliver of wealth. Daughters are bartered like commodities, traded for power and influence. Their insatiable hunger knows no bounds. They crave control, willing to sacrifice anything to achieve it – even their own flesh and blood. Selling their daughters to the Brothers of Sin? It’s all the same, isn’t it? We may be vampires, bound to blood but in their depravity, they can be far worse.” He spat the last word with venom. “They don’t deserve any damn intervention, Elarabeth!”
“But there’s more to Chimera than just the corrupt and depraved,” I countered, my voice firm. “There are good ones, Xulin. Kind souls who yearn for something better. I’ve known one for six and twenty years now, watched her blossom into a woman of compassion. Morwenna wouldn’t condemn her own people to such a fate.”
“Don’t be naive, Elarabeth. Her own people branded her a curse, nearly saw her father burn down their home on account of it.” His grip on my breast tightened briefly before relaxing, his kisses on my neck subsiding.
“It doesn’t define her,” I insisted, refusing to back down. “Morwenna wouldn’t condone this war, not if there’s another way.”
The air crackled with tension as Xul spoke. “If she has to sacrifice those who ostracized her – her mother, her sister, the very people who branded her a ‘curse’ – wouldn’t she turn a blind eye to their demise for the sake of peace?”
My jaw clenched as I turned to face him. “Xulin, you speak as if you have unfettered access to Morwenna’s heart. She craves peace, and—”
He sliced through my words with a harsh laugh. “Don’t delude yourself, Elarabeth. She doesn’t crave peace.”
“Maybe I’m wrong, maybe I’m right, but one thing’s certain: Morwenna wouldn’t embrace war.”
“She’s already a war within Draven’s heart,” Xul countered, his voice dripping with icy certainty. “And if she remains by his side, her time will be tragically short.”
My heart lurched. What did he just imply?
Sensing my confusion, he elaborated, “You have no idea the lengths Draven would go to reclaim his wife, Elarabeth. Even lengths that would stain his very soul...” He trailed off, the unspoken hanging heavy in the air.
A horrifying realization dawned on me. If Xul knew Morwenna was Victoria reborn, then so did Draven. The coven of elders, of course, would be privy to this knowledge as well. That meant my mother… a strangled gasp escaped my lips. Surely, she knew too. Why then, had she dismissed my revelation of Morwenna’s true identity as nothing but a foolish notion?
But no. Nothing slipped past my mother, especially not as a member of the coven. She knew. Yet, she branded me delirious for recognizing the truth. This, this was the crux of my frustration with her. “Hate” was a harsh word, but it mirrored the turmoil her actions caused within me.
“So, Morwenna is in danger too?” I pressed, piecing things together. “Does that mean the coven will try to—”
“The council remains blissfully unaware,” Xul interjected, his voice sharp.
My voice trembled as I asked, “Does my mother know?” It was a question designed to confirm my growing suspicion, and when his gaze flickered ever so slightly, I didn’t need his answer. A ragged breath escaped my lips. “So she’s known all this time...” A cold knot of anger began to twist in my gut. This was enough to make me question.
“Well, what happens now?” My voice hitched with a mix of fear and defiance. “Isn’t it the Council’s law to eliminate any reincarnation of Victoria?”
“As Draven sits on the council of elders as well,” Xul began, his voice laced with a barely concealed disgust whenever he uttered Lord Draven’s name, “it would fall to him to...dispose of the vessel his late wife secreted.”
He spoke of Victoria with a peculiar detachment, as if referring to a ghost as if she never existed.
The anger simmering beneath his carefully constructed calmness sent shivers down my spine, a primal warning to flee.
It was clear Xul harbored a history with Victoria, though the nature of it remained a mystery – a lover, a friend? The possibilities swirled in my mind. Suddenly, Morwenna being Victoria’s vessel made a horrifying kind of sense. To extract Victoria... a death ritual.
The mere thought sent a gasp escaping my lips.
“So you’re just going to stand by and let this happen?” Shame burned in my cheeks as I remembered Xul’s aversion to getting involved in his brothers’ affairs. Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself. “I need to leave. Now.”
The words died in my throat as I remembered the inferno currently crackling around me, a fiery barrier threatening to consume me whole if I dared take another step back. Cursing silently, I glared at Xul
“And your plan for that escape would be?” His voice resonated with a dark curiosity.
“To get home,” I declared, the defiance a mask for the annoyance gnawing at my insides.
He wasn’t satisfied with my response. “You know you can’t do anything,” Xul’s voice resonated, a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. “Morwenna’s fate is already woven, and the Fates hold the shears that cut the threads.”
Frustration bubbled up, hot and insistent. I opened my mouth to argue, but his words cut me off. “Changing destinies isn’t like turning a page, Elarabeth. The tapestry is vast, and altering a single strand could unravel the entire design.”
“But it’s not her fault the late queen resides within her,” I argued.
“Her body is a vessel, and that’s final,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“There must be a spell,” I pressed, hope flickering despite his words. “You’re a god, Xulin. You possess countless spells – surely, there’s a way to cage the Queen’s spirit! Please...”
“Enough, Elarabeth!” His voice cracked like thunder, echoing through the chamber. It stirred the flames that danced around us, sending them leaping higher in a violent ballet. Even the fire seemed to cower before his wrath.
A choked sob escaped my lips. “You won’t help her, will you?” The hollowness in my voice reflected the despair in my heart. “Perhaps I was a fool to believe otherwise.” Taking a shaky breath, I straightened my spine, my defiance hardening into a cold resolve. “I’m leaving. Extinguish the flames, Xulin. I have no need for their warmth anymore.”
As he reached to touch me, my heightened senses flared. With a swift, practiced movement, I evaded his touch. “Don’t,” I spat, the word laced with venom. “Who are you? This stranger certainly isn’t the Xul I once knew.” A bitter laugh escaped me. “Perhaps I never truly knew you at all.”
My voice hardened. “Now stop conjuring more fire because I don’t mind stepping into the flames until it kills me if that’s what you fucking want.”
“And why should I want that?” he asked in his very possessive voice.
Ignoring his words, I said, “Extinguish the flames, Xul. Or perhaps I should bow and grant you the title you seem so eager to claim – Godmaster!” Sarcasm dripped from my words, a shield against the storm of emotions threatening to engulf me.
“Call me your god, then,” he rumbled, a possessive edge lacing his voice despite my simmering anger.
Fine. If defying him was the price for extinguishing the inferno swirling around us, then so be it.
Frustration bubbled up in my throat. “Alright, my god,” I spat, injecting a hefty dose of sarcasm into the title. “Could you perhaps… extinguish these flames already?”
A dark smirk played on his lips and I frowned. “There you go, now that the title’s been bestowed, put out the fire.”
My voice dipped to a low growl. “Yes, extinguish the fire,” I repeated, annoyance lacing my tone. Maintaining a semblance of calm remained paramount, at least until I could slink out of this precarious situation.
Thankfully, the gods, or perhaps just Xul in a rare display of temperance, seemed to answer my plea.
The flames licking at our periphery vanished instantly, the oppressive heat evaporating with them. It was uncanny how Xul acquiesced to my plea, at least for now.
Hopefully, his fickle mind wouldn’t betray him. Good thing I’d managed to avoid his advances this time around.
And then, a new thought snaked into my mind: Morwenna. How was she faring?