Chapter 26 Carwynn
CARWYNN
“. . . complete shite!”
A small pack of Luckmen spilled out of Lochlainn’s townhouse down the block. Clearly irritated by whatever orders were barked at them.
I hadn’t planned on returning, but something fundamental inside me had changed since having met Alvar. I knew I was on the right path, and nothing could stop me from moving forward.
My insecurities usually lurked just beneath the surface—like a crocodile stalking dark waters, waiting for me to flounder. One misstep and it’d death roll me under, descending to the depths.
But not today. Not now. No, right now I pictured the flower I’d wielded—Bird of Paradise.
Wings of orange set ablaze, petals radiant.
I remembered what it’d done, what I’d done.
Not just the door, but some immeasurable power within me, which left no room for drowning in doubt.
For the first time, I’d never felt more like—me.
I paused on the stone walkway, staring down at my open palm. Under the surface, a new vein faintly glowed. It slowly began to swirl, pulsing, as if acknowledging my acceptance of it.
The moment I touched the Bondi Stone, I knew. This was the right path. That vision, I needed to go there—to Eostre Land. To the trials. My bones rattled with anticipation. But first, I needed a golden ticket to get me there. And I knew just the right gold-hoarding mongrel for the job.
My fingers closed into a fist, swallowing the light. Without realizing it, my feet were already moving with hard, determined steps echoing on the cobblestone. Two passersby immediately jumped aside, as if my mere presence repelled them. Sensing the entity inside me saying: Move.
“Souls be damned!” A short Luckman at the bottom of the steps swore, catching sight of me. Two others followed, releasing a string of profanities while exchanging a look. A cross between horror and what-the-actual-fuck.
I didn’t stop.
My eyes speared daggers, daring them to make a move. But as I made my way up the steps, they all stumbled back as if I were the plague. Suddenly disinterested in hunting me.
With irises wide, face drained of color, and a mouth twitching as if to shout a warning, an older gentleman stared as if he’d seen a ghost.
What was I missing?
As I reached for the door, chilling swirls of energy came into view. My hand, my arm. Dark, shadowy, semi-translucent wisps snaked around my body. I could feel it, a power thrumming like the pulse of something awake.
What in the actual hell?
I halted, utterly stunned.
Okay, okay, okay . . . don’t panic. Breathe. Just breathe.
I tried to ground myself. Everyone outside had seen this. No wonder they’d looked like they’d seen a demon wearing my face.
Fuck.
You are your own master, Carwynn. Alvar’s words snuck back into my head, as clear as if he were standing beside me.
I smothered that lurking crocodile—the one that always waited for me to fumble.
You know what? Fuck it! I was so done being on edge, so done hiding every shred of who I was.
What if I seriously said, fuck it? Would that really be so bad?
Sure, I’d risk drawing the attention of the Skell King.
But, he was already hunting me. I wasn’t dumb enough to think the Dullahan incident was mere coincidence.
Hiding who or what I was seemed moot at this point. I’d rather die clawing out some Skell asshole’s eyes than live life tiptoeing around in fear.
So . . . Fuck. It. All.
I twisted the knob. Determination drove my feet down the long, marble hallway to Lochlainn’s office.
Just as I reached the doorway, a Luckman suddenly darted through, nearly colliding with me.
“Woah!” he gasped and flung himself back against the wall. His eyes bulged.
I caught a glimpse of myself in a round mirror above his head. They had all seen a phantom—me. I was haunting.
The dark power possessively coiled around me with an aura that crackled, almost electric.
My body was in reverse—my soul worn on the outside.
My amber eyes glowed, not softly, but with dangerous illumination that could scare any evil back to hell.
Seemed Luckmen were easily spooked. Good to know.
I’d lived among spirits my whole life, thrived in their darkness. So my reflection didn’t phase me. If anything, I felt elated.
I stepped into the study. The room dimmed and lightened all at once.
I wasn’t exactly sure how to flip the switch on or off to whatever power I’d dipped into, but as I stood inside the large room, it suddenly felt too small for me.
Lochlainn leaned over his desk, two palms flat on the surface. Like he were holding the whole damn world in place. To his credit, his face gave nothing away. Just those focused, calculating eyes watching me.
Pogue stood a few feet behind him, leaning against one of the bookshelves. At first, his face twinged with something similar to concern. But it didn’t last. That look swiftly grew far more serious, his lips flattening into a hard line.
Lochlainn’s mouth cracked open, ready to speak—
“Two of your men manhandled me in the market,” I spat, my voice a dagger of ice. “Did you know that?”
Pogue pushed off the shelf, stepping forward.
Their silence was loud.
“Call off your dogs,” I snapped. “Now!”
Lochlainn finally moved. He cleared his throat with a small grunt, straightening.
“My men were ordered to retrieve ya. If there was any mishandling, they’ll be dealt with.
” He paused with a slight intake of breath.
“Apologies on their behalf. Though I admit, I’m surprised ya came back.
Even more surprised”—He looked me up and down, waving a hand as if framing me in place—“that you’ve been holding out on me. ”
Lochlainn’s stoic mask cracked, swapped out with a devilish grin.
“Bet your apologies are as solid as your promises.” My voice dropped. “Call. Off. Your. Dogs. I will not repeat myself again.”
Coils tightened along my arms as my words became darker than fresh soil in a grave.
“They are never to hunt me, touch me, or even breathe in my direction. Do you understand? If they do”—I took a step closer—“I won’t be held responsible for my actions.”
A small glimpse of shock flashed across his face. Normally he’d laugh off my threats, but right now, he was exceptionally quiet.
I ignored Pogue as his eyes volleyed between us. Not sure if he was readying to play peacekeeper or pull up a chair.
“No,” Lochlainn said flatly.
My one eyebrow shot up. Was he really going to tempt me with a good time?
“I run this city. Anything I build, own, or cherish on these grounds is under my protection!” A hand slammed down on the desk, his anger building.
“So when someone waltzes in, snapping that protection like a fucking toothpick, I will not just call off my men. Explain what the bloody hell you did!” Whatever fury he kept vaulted away had slipped.
Okay, so he wasn’t just pissed about me breaking his precious door, he was livid. Guess I’d dented more than the metal—perhaps his ego as well.
“Yeah. So Loch,” Pogue interjected, cutting the tension with a sly smirk.
“I don’t think poking a cobra is the best idea.
It’s no secret she isn’t exactly in control of her powers and by the looks of it—” Those blue eyes raked over me in a slow, seductive caress, before fixing on the dark coils that wrapped around my arms. “She could pack quite the punch right now.”
Lochlainn’s face went taught, cheeks reddening.
“I do not take orders! Especially in my own—” he yelled, words snapping off mid-sentence.
Two vines lashed out from my palms, wrapping around his wrists, constricting. They shot forward and slammed his chest into the desk. Tendrils outstretched, burrowing into the wooden surface, shackling him in place.
The desk thudded as he repeatedly reared back, failing to free himself. Horror flared in his eyes.
Slowly, delicate, purple flowers started to blossom along the vines. Wolf’s Bane.
Lochlainn growled, pain taking effect.
A phantom smile clung to my lips. I stepped forward, tilting my head, drinking in the full view of him bent over, bound in agony.
“This is a good look for you Lochlainn,” I said sweetly. “Bent over. Vulnerable.” The laugh that escaped me was dark, low. If it had come from anyone else, it would have made my own skin crawl. “Oh, there’s one more thing I need you to do for me.” I flashed my teeth.
“Carrrrwynn!” he seethed through gritted teeth, then glared at Pogue accusingly.
I turned my gaze to Pogue. He immediately raised both hands in a dramatic show of surrender.
“Hey, don’t worry about me.” Inky swirls danced in his eyes. “I’m just here for the entertainment.” He winked, a slow smile kissing his lips.
This man was an anomaly. Hot. Cold. Hot. Cold. He was way too disgustingly pleased with what I was doing. I didn’t like it. And I definitely didn’t like the way he was looking at me. It ignited something deep inside—something I had no business feeling.
That goddamn wink . . .
I reared my attention back to Lochlainn.
“You will enter me into the Fecunditas Trials in Eostre Land.” My words hit the air like a hex, causing the room to still. Tension settled around like a thick, spiced perfume.
For a breath, Pogue’s grin faltered. The first look of disapproval, but he remained silent.
Meanwhile, Lochlainn seemed struck.
“Release me,” he growled, jaw muscles wildly spasming. “And we’ll talk.” He twisted against the vines, eliciting further groans of pain.
Release him? Bummer. This was just starting to feel fun.
But on that note, I wasn’t sure how I retracted the vines the last two times they’d appeared. I thought back to when I’d lost control of my Soulsayer abilities.
Will it, Pogue had said. And I did. Maybe that tactic would work again.
“Fine,” I mumbled. But the authority in my voice slipped as I casually added, “Just—give me a second to figure this out.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake, Carwynn!” Lochlainn roared, red face blending into an impressive shade of purple now.