Chapter 5 New Beginnings #2
“Oh,” he laughed. “Now she knows not to speak to monsters. Took you long enough to learn.”
Adriana tensed, frustration running through her veins. “I beg your pardon, sir!” Her voice was filled with distaste, her face showing her annoyance at his comment.
The shadow that hung loosely around her ankle darted away and vanished, as if sensing it needed to escape her anger. But Alexander clearly made no such conclusions.
He smiled again, his teeth on display but not a fang in sight. “Ah, there you are. There’s that stubbornness I remember.”
Adriana laughed in amazement at the rudeness conveyed in his words and shook her head at him.
She did not understand why he was being so cruel to her after how she had helped him in that cellar.
She had thought he would have been grateful for the support she had given him that night, but it seemed his curiosity over why his Manipuli ability had not worked on her was all he could focus on.
And she knew, as she felt the knocking in her mind grow louder and louder, confusion was not a feeling Alexander welcomed.
He approached, slowly, as the knocking turned into drumming. His gloved fingers twitched at his side as he neared her, his eyes narrowed and jaw clenched. Until finally, he broke through the defences to her consciousness.
You are going to forget me, he spoke into her mind as he sauntered towards her. Forget that night, forget today, forget we ever met.
Adriana felt the power of his words rumble through her mind, distorting her memories of the first time she saw his face. His power was strong, much stronger than when he was tied to that table, and she struggled to ignore his commands like she had before.
Raising a gloved hand to tilt her face up, his fingers firmly gripping her chin, he gave her one final demand. Forget this. Go home. Walk away.
Her head began to ache, her body straining against the desire to follow his orders. But she had never been one to listen to men who thought they knew best, she had never been one to obey.
Adriana’s frown deepened, not from the discomfort of his magic, but from the cold fury he ignited within her.
Without a word, she thrust out a hand, a raw surge of power erupting from her.
The wind howled through the alleyway as she directed the force of it towards him, pushing him back several feet away from her.
His boots scraped against the cobblestones as he failed to regain his balance, and his back landed heavily against the damp ground. The presence in her mind retreated.
A wave of dizzying relief washed over her. It had been quite some time since she’d displayed power over the air like that, and she knew the slight exhaustion of using her magic would soon take its toll once the adrenaline wore off. But she wasn’t done with him, not yet.
“You dare,” Adriana spoke in a deadly calm tone, slowly stalking towards him with magic dancing between her fingers like small zaps of lightning. “You dare touch me again without my permission, and I will rip you apart.”
Alexander stared up at her as he swiftly jumped to his feet, an odd look of horror and awe painted across his face, before it vanished completely, as if he had placed a mask of indifference to hide his feelings.
Holding his hands up to try to prove to her he was not a threat, he stepped forward, but as the wind began to whip around her skirts once more, he halted in his tracks.
“I am sorry,” he said, the truth of his apology sounded soft in his voice. “I did not know you were an Incantrix. I had no intention of hurting you. Please, call me Xander. And please know that you have nothing to fear from me.”
Adriana’s shoulders lifted in a silent chuckle. She smirked as she closed the distance between them, the wind dying down to its usual gentle breeze once again, her hands losing their sparks of magic.
She stood on her toes, leaning towards him to whisper, “I am not scared of you, Alexander Duran. I was not afraid of you as a child, and I am certainly not afraid of you now.”
She didn’t wait for him to respond, only spun on her heel and darted down the alley back towards the trees where her horse waited.
As she made her way past the two carriages, she noticed a small group standing beside them, consisting of three children chasing one another in fits of giggles, and two men watching over them.
The smaller of the pair had pale rosy skin and hair so blonde it almost appeared white under the sun.
His smile felt so welcoming, even from a distance, and his voice sounded like a soft lullaby as he beckoned the children towards him.
The other was perhaps the tallest man she had ever seen.
With short dark hair, a rich black complexion and muscles that seemed visible even through his fine suit—he was breathtaking to look at.
His eyes caught hers as she ran past, an inquisitive look about him as he watched her, before he turned his attention back to the alleyway she had just appeared from.
Not wanting to check if Alexander was coming after her, she mounted and urged her horse to a fast run, speeding through the trees at a dangerously quick pace.
Within minutes, she reached the lake that sat between Divina’s old manor and her own family’s home.
As expected, a slight wave of fatigue began to overcome her, causing her knees to wobble and threaten to give out as she jumped down from her horse.
She rested her forehead against the horse’s side, weaving her fingers through his short mane and whispering words of kindness to him.
The front door to her house flew open, interrupting her moment of tranquility, and she readied herself for the scolding lecture from one of the staff for going riding unaccompanied.
But to her surprise, her great-grandmother appeared instead, carrying a huge stack of books in her tiny hands towards the carriage that awaited her by the lake.
“Where have you been?” she shouted as she hobbled down the path. “We have places to be, Adriana! People to see!”
“What are you talking about?” Adriana asked. She quickly tied her horse to a post by the side of the house before offering to take the small stack of books from Striga, who only swatted her hands away and proceeded to dump them in the carriage before clambering in herself.
“They will be arriving any moment now. I want to make sure everything is in order and you are ready to meet them.”
Before Adriana could even ask who she meant, movement from across the lake caught her eye.
Her breath hitched as she watched two carriages trundle along the track that wound towards the imposing silhouette of the old manor house.
There was no mistaking them, the lopsided tilt of the first from the haphazardly fixed wheel, even from this distance, was a damning confirmation.
A knot of dread tightened in her chest. Divina’s manor had been abandoned since she’d died, her family having disappeared after her funeral. So why now? Why Xander?
Her heart hammered against her chest as a figure clad entirely in black emerged from the first carriage and stepped onto the crumbling decking that stood over the lake’s edge.
She waved her palm over the water, watching as a soft current began and stretched across the lake in soft ripples with the help of a small breeze she conjured.
As the ripples reached the far side, she followed Striga into the carriage, closing the door behind her and tapping the roof to signal to the driver they were ready to go.
“What is going on, Great-grandmother?” Adriana asked impatiently.
Striga eyed her carefully as she forced a small smile onto her face. “It is time, my Adria.”
Xander
The soft breeze tickling his face and brushing his dark hair away from his forehead brought Xander out of his reverie.
He often found himself lost in his thoughts, his Manipuli power providing him the ability to relive his memories in vivid details.
Most would choose to imagine themselves in a fond memory, perhaps wanting to experience cherished moments of pure bliss. Xander always chose his darker ones.
He felt that by reliving his worst days, he could learn from his mistakes, learn how to become a better man. But the darkness he surrounded himself in was deeper than any of the shadows he could wield.
It was clear Deion worried for him, as did Edward who always accused him of not getting enough sleep.
They knew Xander carried the weight of all their curses, even though it was not his to carry alone.
But he wasn’t one to ask for help, not when he felt obliged to punish himself for his past actions.
He would not allow anyone else to carry that burden.
This time, however, he wasn’t lost in an awful memory of blood and death.
No, this time he was lost in the memory of the woman from town, the same woman that he had met eight years ago when she was only a girl, and had helped him through what was, without a doubt, one of the worst nights of his long existence. The strange Incantrix.
Xander stood unmoving, unblinking. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest the moment she stood close to him, the tremble in his fingers he only got when he was nervous.
Even now, he could still smell her scent, the slight waft of lilies and lavender when the wind blew her hair, the saltiness of the bead of sweat that had run down the side of her temple when she’d thrown him to the ground.
He suddenly wished he’d removed his gloves as he wondered what her skin would feel like beneath his fingertips, what her lips would taste like… what her moans would sound like.