Chapter 25 Carwynn #2
This would be the second time in Luckland that a guy mistook me for some trampy brasser.
He cleared his throat, intentionally, then swore under his breath in a language I didn’t understand.
When I finally looked up, his eyebrow was arched. One super judgy brow. As if I were the weirdo.
Slowly, he extended a hand, revealing something small curled inside his fingers.
Definitely not a candy cane.
“Oh.” My voice came out small, slightly embarrassed. The kind of humiliation you’d only feel after falsely accusing someone of being a flasher. “Right. Sorry. I—uh. Continue.”
Okay, so maybe it was a little presumptuous to think he was about to take his dick out. But in my defense, would it really be so unreasonable to think that? Men, am I right?
While I was busy flustering, my eyes drifted to his unusual clothing. His leather top looked wildly outdated, as if he were headed to a renaissance faire to role-play some kind of warrior Viking. Not that I was complaining. It reallyyyy wasn’t a bad look, just out of place.
Then his fingers unfurled. Resting in his palm was a smooth, rose-colored stone.
No way. Could that be—was that? Holy fucking Souls above . . . It was!
Alvar rolled his large thumb over the pink egg-shaped, glassy stone—the same stone from my dreams.
His eyes met mine. There was something otherworldly behind them. They didn’t look at me, but through me.
“This,” he said, voice lower now. “The Bondi Stone. I’m using it to locate something I’ve lost.” He didn’t blink. “You know this stone?”
My eyes went wide, homing in on the beautiful rock that’d haunted my thoughts for over a decade.
What the hell was I supposed to tell this man?
For such a hulking stranger I’d just met, I should have been terrified.
But I wasn’t. There was an unexpected sense of ease when I was near him, a quiet comfort settling deep within.
My inkling hummed beneath my skin, a thick layer of static, crackling in recognition of something I couldn’t put together.
Friend.
I didn’t feel the need to lie to him.
“Yes. Well, kind of. Technically I’ve never seen it in person, only ever in my—” I paused.
“Visions?” he offered gently.
“Dreams,” I corrected. “I’ve dreamt of that for years. Along with another object too.” A disbelieving huff left me, half-laugh, half-frustration. “God, you have no idea how many hours I’ve wasted digging through musty archives trying to prove it actually existed!”
I glanced at the stone again.
He nodded knowingly.
“The Bondi Stone is a powerful relic from Eostre Land. Gifted by the Ovum tree as a reward during a past Fecunditas Trial.” A mischievous grin grew on his face. “I’ve borrowed it. I need to return it soon, before anyone notices it’s gone.”
“Usually borrowing infers they gave you permission to take it,” I said. “Lucky for you, I’m no snitch.” My arms folded over my chest. “So, how does it work? And what’s Fecunditas?” I wrinkled my nose. “It sounds like a dirty word.”
I imagined it translated to something along the lines of: Magical Fertility Orgy.
For a brief moment my brain fizzled. The type of exhausted dissociation where you’re still standing, still breathing, but not actually here. I just couldn’t believe the stone I’d dreamed of, searched for, obsessed over, was now right in front of my face in this stranger’s hand.
This couldn’t have been a coincidence—it had to mean something.
Alvar’s eyes lit up, laughing.
“It really should be a dirty word considering the amount of fornicating that happens during the festivities.” His smile lines gradually smoothed to seriousness again.
“Fecunditas is one of Eostre’s ancient traditions.
Every fifty years, they hold month-long celebrations in honor of fertility, rebirth, and above all, the Trials.
Only the strongest from around the realm are chosen to compete.
Usually royalty, or those nominated by them.
” He held up the stone, letting it catch the dim light.
“Their sacred tree, the Ovum tree, is sentient. It senses desires, fears, intentions—souls. It produces magical relics. Ovums. The Bondi Stone is one of them. The winner of the Trials receives one as a reward.”
My eyes were transfixed on the glassy stone. Images of the dark onyx box with the gold markings flickered through my thoughts.
A warmth twisted in my gut, the darkness within cracking an eye open.
No coincidences, a voice whispered. Or was it my own?
Without realizing, I’d reached out, fingers brushing over the cool, smooth surface of the stone in Alver’s hand.
My breath caught, an unfamiliar feeling flooded in, like I’d been climbing a jagged mountainside for years, slipping, scraping, bloodied from losing footing along the way, only now I’d finally reached the peak.
An air of clarity triumphantly brushed my mind.
My wings weren’t ready to take flight, but reaching the summit was victory enough.
Below me, nestled in the valley’s base, a dark, yawning cave stretched open.
Waiting. Tug, tug, tug. My senses pulled.
This, right here, this was it. A clue to the path forward.
For the first time in my life, I had no doubt.
Yes, the mountain’s womb. The air itself spoke, humming in agreement.
Alver regarded me intently, watching the vision cloud my eyes. The emotions painted over my face in a single brushstroke.
“Hmm,” he murmured. “Polaris has not led me wrong today.”
I was dragged from the vision as he pulled the stone away, pocketing it back under his belt. He glanced down the alleyway and adjusted his hood.
“I—” My voice caught.
Words clogged in my throat, stuck on the overwhelming weight of synchronicity.
Yes, that’s what this was.
My skin prickled. I suddenly became aware of the dim alley, of the chill in the air, of the stillness that fell upon us.
Incredible. The stone had thrown me into a vision that felt so real.
That cave. The mountain’s womb, the voice had whispered to me. I needed to go.
The onyx box—I couldn’t shake the image out of my head. It burned itself into every corner of my mind, into every fiber of my being, a branding. For the life of me, I couldn’t explain why I needed to find it, but an innate sense just knew it was crucial.
How much did Alvar know? He didn’t look one bit curious as to what the stone had shown me. Just stood there, completely content and thoroughly pleased with how everything unfolded.
“Be well, my friend,” he said, stepping away. “We shall meet again soon.”
Wait, he was leaving? But—but so much had just happened? What the hell!
Heavy steps ricocheted off the stone walls.
“Wait,” I called. “But—I have so many questions!”
He paused, turning back.
“And you’ll have your answers. In time,” Alver said, smirking.
He moved to leave but hesitated before looking back at me.
“If you find yourself surrounded by wolves—” His gaze was piercing.
“Leash them.” A heartbeat passed. “Life. Death.” He shrugged.
“They’ll always be the true masters of us all.
” A firm finger pointed at me. Telling, not offering.
“But you, Carwynn . . . You are your own master. Never forget that.”
Each word was so tightly wrapped in assurance, it nearly knocked me off balance. As though the words had found the unconscious being within my soul and shook it awake.
I swear I felt the dark creature inside stir. Arousing with a grin. And behind it, something fierce, beginning to rise.
Alvar caught my eyes and flashed a knowing smile. He inclined his head in a subtle bow. And then with a mysterious wink, he turned, disappearing completely.
Wait . . . how did he know my name?