DOTD Chapter 15

A burial for Edwin. A witch hunt unfolds. The Duke makes his mark.

The walk to the willow was still, full of impending release. My jeweled slippers crunched softly on the foliage below, the hot summer wind whispering through my hair. The letter felt like lead in my gloved hands, the wax seal like tungsten. I carried with me closure, an obligation to provide a true place of rest. I owed him that much. I would finally bury Edwin in the warm, familiar soil and with it, the weight of my bitterness, the anger strangling my heart and dictating my actions.

I had walked this path so many times, the grass and leaves underfoot were flattened and worn with regular use. Strolls in the wood usually ended here, my back pressed against the strong trunk of the cascading, mournful tree. Occasionally, on a day like today, the heat would be too suffocating for a corset, and I would strip down and plunge into the river, the cool spring water washing away my worries. Even with the cover of the trees, the heat was unbearable. Between the layers of black lace and the hearth inside me that had roared just moments ago, the thought of taking a dip was tempting.

I came to a clearing in my path, opening to a lush green haven…my haven. The wispy grass brushed sweetly on my ankles as I walked, a finch chirping soft melodies above. My lungs expanded, breathing in the warm smells of summer. The sugary scent of honeysuckle and memories greeted my nose, beckoning me, inviting me in. A deep sigh, peace entering my bloodstream and calming my mind as I strode towards the weeping willow draping its long limbs over the stream.

“ This is where you will rest, my friend,” I whispered softly into the air.

The cool shade of the tree fell over me as I ducked under its cascading, green branches. Dropping to my knees amongst the thick roots and I pulled my dagger from the folds of my gown. I dug into the dirt with the blade, carving out a small, earthy home for my written words to sleep. A resting place, a place where the few, sweet echos of my past slept and waited for me to return. His family might not never know where he truly rested, but I did. Instead of rotting next to other dead souls, Edwin’s spirit would doze in comfort next to my memories, they would keep him safe and warm. Carrying him with me would become easier—it had to. Knowing he rested here would ease that burden— I needed it to. My eyes found the letter once more, the small scrap a reflection of my heart.

The words should be read aloud.
Spoken one last time.

My finger brushed sweetly along the page, a heavy ache pulling at my chest. I wasn’t sure if I could get them out, if they would leave my tongue. But I needed the freedom to live and Edwin…he needed permission to rest.

I slid my thumb along the seal, breaking the wax and my heart all over again. Sliding the note from the envelope, I slowly turned over the folded letter in my palm. Eyes shut tight, hands slightly trembling, I willed myself to read the painful words I’d written in my blood.
Breath.

My lungs obeyed, rising and releasing one final breath before opening my eyes. My eyesight was playing tricks on me, surely. My body froze, hands motionless, stuck crouching in the dirt. Numbness spread through my face. The page…my writing… it was gone.

Two single sentences were written in the center of the paper. My breath became ragged, salt stinging the corners of my eyes. It wasn’t possible….How?

My death is not your burden to carry, Miss Fluer.
Be at peace.

“ Edwin,” I whispered, my breath shaky, my voice cracked.

He’d heard. He was listening. My regrets, my guilt, my pain, my loss… he’d heard it all. He’d heard it all and he told me to release him. A weepy smile bloomed from cheek to cheek, tears began to fall sileintly. I’d done it. The phenomenon of my blood had somehow reached Edwin beyond the veil and allowed him passage back. I couldn’t believe it. It shouldn’t be possible, and yet here it was in front of me, his words healing the cracked fragments of my soul I was certain would never mend. My shoulders relaxed, an invisible weight lifting off me as my tears dripped onto the page.

“Thank you,” I muttered softly.
“ Thank you.”

I squeezed the letter to my chest, breathing in deep, my tears calming to quiet sniffles. A peace settled over me, blanketing my limbs as if Edwin himself were wrapping his arms around me. This is what it felt like to heal? I’d never known healing, but today it held me like wool in winter. The feeling was surprising, foreign and addicting at all once.

He forgave me. No one ever did that. For the first time in my life, I had experienced what I assumed was… friendship, undeserving mercy. Even if it was only gifted to me once, even if it was in death, I felt my heart swell and overflow with the strange, warming feeling. It caught in my throat, threatmeing to spill trauma, loneliness, a broken spirirt behind a front into the soft soil below. In that moment, I let it. I wept, not only for Edwin but for a loss of friendship, one I’d only known once and lost. My tears would fell steadily, watering the tree that felt like the only thing closest to home.


Vision blurred, I searched the paged for his words one last time. To my surprise, it looked like the message had faded, the page resuming a blank, tea-stained emptiness. I hastily rubbed the silver from my eyes, clearing my sight. Tingles nipped at my nose and cheeks as I watched another impossible event display itself before me in real time. Gradually, more inky writing came into view, blotting the paper with a new message. He wasn’t done. I read on, sniffing back the tears.

But be warned, not all are who they seem.

My killer’s blade bears an emblem, that of a single flame burning in total darkness.

Before he made his mark, he spoke these words to me.

“Even the dark has its watchmen.”

Frost crept underneath my skin. Despite the blistering heat, I was chilled to stone. Grief was replaced with a cold, wet fear.
The murderer….the—the one who’d slaughtered him.

This was a warning. His final words an attempt to protect me. The murder was still out there lurking somehwere in wait. With everything else going on, I’d let the reality slip to the back of my mind. Reading this— the jarring, skin prickling angst was back. I rehearsed the words in my mind.

“ Even the dark has its watchmen”....Not all are who they seem.

Anxiety woke, creeping stealthily along the edges of my core and provoking speculation. It could be anyone. Was it possible the killer was right in front of me and I didn’t know it? It could be someone I saw on a regular basis, maybe someone I trusted? But who would have such a motive?

My head spun with endless hypotheses, my heart beating widely behind my ribs. What could this mean? The safety I felt just moments ago, suddenly felt thin, like trying trying cage a raging bull bebind bars of tissue paper. I was vulnerable, left to decipher the meaning Benevorn’s curse all on my own. If it had anything to do with the violent display of strength moemnts ago, not even Lucien could know.
I knew then, I would have to be on guard, viewing everyone through a different lens. The world would be tested through my eyes, analyzed for potential motive. I wouldn’t let the killer gain the upper hand. Knowelged flaoted in my mind more precious than rubies, an advantage the murderer was ignorant of. More than anything now, I needed answers. Answers to who I was, what I was, why a supernatural killer was on my trail and sending muderous displays of his threats. I knew who would have them and I knew how to get them from her. The only problem was how to solicit Lucien’s help without divulging too much delicate information. But how? How would I explain to him Edwin’s warning without giving away my ability to reach him in the first place? I would have to think of something, and it would need to be good. It was doubtful Lucien was easily fooled by much. There was much to be done.

Committing Edwin’s words to memory, I tenderly placed the letter in the hole and gently moved the dirt to cover it. In symbolism of my promise, I removed the black diamonds I wore and placed each one upon his grave.

“ I will find him, Edwin,” I spoke quietly to the dirt. “ Rest knowing that.”

I braced my back in the familiar groove of the trunk, head tilted back in the lifeless void. I wanted to sit with him, just for a moment. Commit this lull in time to the core of my memory. He was finally at peace. Although his body was not physically here, his soul would rest in the soft soil and sleep under wild flowers. Even if I was the only one who truly knew, it would be enough. My vow had not changed. The murderer would be found, his motives exposed before me. The hearth inside me, stoked an ember as I pictured the life draining from his eyes. The heat uncoiled from my chest and spread to the tips of my fingers once more, faster this time, full of hatred. I felt it behind my eyes, searing my tongue and making my breath hot with rage. It burned me alive the way wiskey burned going down, stronger than any flame, more potent than a pool of sulfuric acid. I stayed that way for a long while, my soul burning in hellflame in vengeance for his.




A few hours passed, tuning into the numbing sound of the trickling water behind me, chest heaving. The heat was consuming, from the summer sun and from the strange searing pressure flooding my veins like phenol. It burned me alive, like it was purging the goodness out of me and exiting my body via my sweat glands. The loose strands of my hair had stuck to my beet-red forehead, sweat pooling on my lower back and dripping down my legs. I needed relief, or I was certain I would burst into flames.

Easing off the trunk, I stood to my feet, stepping out of my slippers and unlacing my corset one ribbon at a time. Inch by inch, I loosened the black finery, the movements releasing a sense of freedom inside me and inviting the summer breeze to cool my bare, sweaty skin.

God, it felt glorious.

Abandoning my gown beneath the willow, I met the riverbank, the sunlight glistening on my skin. I should have felt exposed, completely naked in broad daylight, but here, I was free, and no one knew the location of my secret sanctuary. I waded into the river, the crisp temperature melting the suffocating heat off me and cooling my core. A sigh of deep satisfaction. It had been so long since I’d done this.

Up to my chest in the brisk water, I swam leisurely in the crystal-clear waves, dipping my long hair and hot face under. This…this was an excellent use of free will, not a practice I was particularly used to. Floating gently in the deeper, more still part, I lifted my hand into the sunlight, studying my birthmark.

“ What is your purpose?” I asked it, turning my glistening skin over.

A spark nipped at the area, as if it was trying to respond to me. I smiled, dipping my fingertip across the surface of the water, creating small ripples. The majority of me was afraid of what I was capable of, but a small, minuscule part of me was fascinated. I had never amounted to anything before, always seen as a disappointment or a disgrace. Now, I had something unique, something physically impossible that defined me. In some ways, it made me… special. In other ways… it made me powerful. Both felt good...natural.

“ Good day for a swim, huh?” called a male voice.

I quickly scrambled, the unexpected question jolting me from my thoughts and into my surroundings. Hastily, I found the river bottom with my feet. Wrapping my arms tightly around myself, my eyes shot in the direction of the voice.

Oh, God.

It was Lucien. Dressed heavily in his usual black, in all his brooding glory. He strolled down the riverbank, his bow slung taught around his shoulder. He looked like he’d been hunting…had he? He eased the stringed weapon off him into the grass below, sandy, cropped hair reflecting the sunlight. Without my consent, my eyes instinctively curved along his figure, his shirt slick to his chest with sweat. He was huge, an entire entity himself. A broad, muscled mass that commanded every room. Even my own eyes betrayed me…self control lost in the way his pecs shifted underneath the soaked shirt.

What would it be like to loose my stubborn fight?
To submit to him...under that domineering build?
The thought surprised me, a different type of heat blooming below the water’s surface.

That damn dream!
I cursed silently under my breath, scolding myself for letting it enter my mind.

How had he found me here anyway?
No one knew of this place, except me. It wasn’t particularly easy to find.

Now, I felt a bit exposed. I was fully submerged but still at least thirty feet from my gown.
This was the second time the pensive bastard had found me…well—naked.

“ I–Uh, yes,” I replied, stammering over my words. “ What are you doing here?”
My arms wrapped tighter around myself.

He wound up by the willow, picking up my gown with one hand. A twitch at the corner of his mouth, his golden eyes raking over my undergarments. It was almost missable. I wouldn’t have even noticed it if I hadn’t already been burning his outline into my mind.

That mouth….
What did it feel like?
Soft…gentle? Or harsh like his outer shell, full of violent release…

Soft chills fluttered down my body.
The thought was intoxicating, wrong, and off-limits and….WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING?
Focus!

“ Well, I’m certainly not stripping nude in broad daylight. You do know there’s a bloodthirsty killer still on the loose, right?” he stated flatly. His eyes locked on mine from across the shore, his stone features challenging me. My legs brushed against each other under the water, squirming under such an intense gaze. Whether it was meant for me or my stupidity, it still had my body in knots.

Damn him….

I huffed out a loud sigh, deciding to take him seriously was too boring.

“Maybe I knew a certain Hallowbane would be watching my every move,” I taunted, shifting to float on my back. My naked figure surely reflected in the water. I hoped it did. “ I knew you were a hunter, Lucien. I didn’t know you used those keen senses to stalk me. If you wanted to see me, you could’ve just asked,” I finished, a fox's grin catching on my lips.

I was totally flirting.
I shouldn’t… but I was. Lucien’s icy outershell made it somewhat of a challenge, the temptation of seeing what followed a crack being irresistible.

“ Believe it or not, today’s itinerary did not hold the pleasure of your company,” he replied plainly, a hint of sarcasm clipped to the word pleasure.

Good.
He was playing my game…whether he realized it or not.

“ Whatever you have to tell yourself,” I mused, arching my back and dragging my long hair out of the water. “ Still doesn’t explain how you knew where I was.”

He tossed my gown into the grass.

“ I didn’t,” he countered, watching me from the shore. “ I was tracking something. Felt a large surge of power. Picked up on its scent and followed it here. It’s strange though…it’s like it just fell off… dissipated. I lost it.”

Shit.
Could it have been me? Was Lucien tracking… me?

“Maybe you’re not as good at this hunting thing as you think. Perhaps you should have been a librarian instead,” I jested, masking my angst with nonchalant humor. “ Innswood’s local attraction: the seven-foot, immortal librarian. He’ll assist you in your search for the perfect book and rudely insult you at the same time,” I sang, the fake jingle making me giggle. I imagined Lucien in a pair of large, awkward readers, the ridiculous picture making me smile harder.

At that, he chuckled, the low rumble traveling across the water’s surface. He eased down against the tree as if his muscles ached, soaking up the cool shade it provided. Glancing around, he paused for a moment, eyes widening as if he’d found something. Sure enough, he lifted his jeweled dagger into the air, a grin catching once more.

“ And the daughter of high society: a thief. I suppose we both missed our true callings,” he said, turning the steel blade over in his hands. “ I thought I’d never get this back.”

Damn it!

“Lucien…put it down!” I demanded helplessly from the water. “ Don’t you have some more important things to do than harass me. Maybe hunting down a vicious beast? Or square up with the Goddess of Light?”

I was stuck, naked in this stupid river, and unable to do anything about him pilaging through my things. Things I supposed were his first… but still! My brows came to their center, arms crossing across my bare chest.

“ Oh, I don’t think so!” he replied, letting loose a low laugh. “ I’ll be returning this to its rightful home. With a new lock, I might add, we’ll see how you fare breaking into it this time.”

I huffed loudly, annoyance scrunching my nose into a sour disposition at the lack of control. I blinked furiously. Stupidity suddenly entered my mind. The thought took root, a devilish grin spreading across my lips.

“ If you don’t put down the dagger,” I threatened, dragging out the words slowly, “then I’ll come take it from you.”

The words left my lips like a surge of electricity, my own boldness surprising and exciting me at the same time. I liked this version of me. The one who demanded the room took what she wanted without cowering or pleading.

Lucien scoffed, picking the dirt from underneath his fingernails with it and ignoring my threat.
“I’d like to see you try, Slayer,” he replied, not bothering to look my way.

Fine.

The hard way, then. I slowly stood, rising from the water with confident, bold strides. Breasts bare, unashamedly exposed, I rung my hair out with dramatic flair, continuing my strut out of the river. The sound of my movements had Lucien turning his head towards me.

His eyes widened, taking in my naked figure unhurriedly. Shock pleasantly nipped at his features, as his molten eyes widened, raking over my body a little too long. He didn’t move an inch, his gaze unwavering. A challenge flashing in molten, amber hues.

The heat of those eyes made me slightly nervous, a nervousness that felt good. He hadn’t turned away this time or even closed his eyes. He just sat there, memorizing my every slight of movement— face still, eyes lit with embers. I eased myself gracefully the rest of the way out of the stream and glided straight up to him. Water rolled off me and dripped onto him as I bent over where he sat, my figure shadowing his tanned face. His gaze burned, an intense stare, steadfast, refusing to waver from me. I held out a petty hand.

I was challenging him…he challenged back.

“ The dagger,” I commanded.

Against the will of nature, a small grin bloomed on Lucien’s face, soft lips parting to display a perfect row of pearls. It made my legs weak. He dropped it into my palm, his eye contact iron-willed.

“ Fine. You win,” he murmured, his voice husky.

“ I always do,” I whispered, snatching the dagger into my grasp and winking.

He had no idea he was winning either.
A fight he didn’t even know he was in.


I grabbed my gown beside him.

Strutting a few feet away, I shimmied into my clothes, the dry fabric catching on my sticky skin with each tug. With my back turned to him, I wasn’t sure if he’d decided to offer me privacy by looking away or if he’d continued his heated stare. Something told me those ethereal eyes were watching without a hint of shame. After all, Lucien had said it himself… he was no gentleman. I wondered at how long it had been since he’d last taken a woman to his bed. Two hundred years had to make a man restless. I was grateful my back was turned to him, because the thought of Lucien having his way with someone had a flush blooming up my neck.

“ You still haven’t answered my question,” he asked from behind me, jarring me from a hazy daydream. “ Why are you out here?”

“ I missed the part where I was supposed to report back to you,” I replied, feigning nonchalance and huffing as I attempted to secure my corset.

A low laugh.
“ You’re a fiery little thing, aren’t you?” he replied, his smile clear through his tone.

The words did something to my insides.
Damn him.

I stopped fumbling aimlessly with the strings, my fingers unable to secure the ribbon. I whirled around to fully face him, about to solicit his help. His eyes crashed into my own. He had been watching. My limbs turned watery. Clearing my throat and breaking eye contact, I spoke into the electric silence.

“ Be a gentleman and help me fasten my corset,” I demanded, ignoring his question and turning my back to him once more.

He scoffed. “ I’m skilled in many ways, but tying ribbons has never been my strong suit.”

“ I’m sure, living two hundred years and all, you could figure it out,” I replied, dismissing his rebuttal. “ Go on!”

He stood to his feet, closing the small amount of distance between us. His body heat met my skin, his enormous presence making me dizzy. That smell, his smell, wafted around me once more. I stuffed down any inappropriate thoughts as his rough fingers found the ribbons. He tenderly pulled and fumbled with the strands, his hands brushing slightly against my bare skin. I could hear his breath; it was uneven, like he was starving himself of oxygen. My body betrayed me, chills forming along my arms, flutters dancing along my stomach line.

Stupid, stupid dream.

He continued struggling, making agonizingly slow progress, each touch melting my body into butter. I could feel his eyes pinned to my lower back, the hesitancy in his touch, as if he was holding himself back.

“ So,” he spoke, his voice gruff. “ Now, will you tell me why you're out here?”

I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, my mind desperately trying to stay focused. I needed to pull myself together. God, if he knew what he was doing to me right now. Maybe he did…I cleared my throat, thinking of the right words to say.

Hesitantly, they began to form and fall from my mouth, catching a glimpse of my diamond earrings on Edwin’s grave. Somehow, Lucien carried the same safety with him as these grounds did. I knew I could trust him with this, as much as vulnerability had me wanting to shrink away from my own skin.

“ I, umm… I was burying his memory,” I said quietly, my voice a tad shaky.

I knew he would know who I spoke of. Lucien had seen me at my lowest and in some sense…he gave me back purpose. Found it within himself to equip me and protect me even when he owed me no loyalty. No one had ever done that for me. No one.

He was quiet, as if his silence suggested he understood the symbolism. “ I see.”

“ It felt wrong… burying him without a true honoring of his death. I thought it was the right thing to do,” I stammered, my eyes fixed on my bare feet.

“ You honored him well,” he murmured from behind.

The confirmation had my heart swelling with warmth and loss at the same time. Lucien’s words assured me that all the heartache was a seed well planted… somehow, they eased the steady ache constantly sitting on my chest. Neither one of us said anything for a moment, the space between our words holding a mutual understanding.

I needed to explain this in a way that got the message across but didn't illicit any suspicion. This was going to be difficult. I started unraveling my half-truth.

“ I learned more about Edwin’s killer,” I said quietly.

Lucien's hands paused momentarily, taking in my words. “ He spoke to me, in a dream,” I lied, “ The killer, his sword, he said it bears an emblem— a single flame illuminating the darkness.”

A dream.
That was all I could think of at the moment. How else would I have heard from the dead? I hoped it would be enough.

Lucien finished tying the bow. I turned to face him, his brows furrowed, lips pressed into their usual serious line. He looked at me with a face full of suspicion.

“ A dream? He spoke to you through a dream?” he rehearsed, shaking his head. “ Prophetic dreams a rare and receiving one from the dead is never a good sign, Fluer.”

Shit.
He wasn’t buying it.

I continued on, shoving past his warning. “ He told me the killer said, ‘ Even the dark has its watchmen’. Does that mean anything to you?”

Lucien's jaw feathered. He stilled, going stiff at my words.
“No,” he replied quickly, his body language suggesting the opposite

Was he… hiding something?
Interesting.

I stared at him skeptically, trying to glean any hints from his face. He gave me none.

“ Edwin told me where I could find out more,” I continued, probing him and taking the opportunity to insert my own agenda. “ He told me to seek out an oracle that goes by the name of The Viel Mother. He said she has something for me.”

I hated lying to him, but this was the only way, especially after he tracked me here. I cared for Lucien, but if I wanted answers, I had to do this. Besides…the way he had tensed a moment ago suggested he might be doing the same.

Why?
What about that phrase made him react that way?
What did he know?

His eyes widened at the name. “ Mother Viel is not to be messed with. She is one of the founding witches, an original. She’s walked the Earth since the beginning of time. It would not be wise to cross her, even with all the training in the world,” he warned, shaking his head solemnly. “ Are you certain that was Edwin speaking to you? Dreams can be used as weapons, you know. It could be a trap.”

Of course, he knew the Viel Mother and all about prophetic dreams.
This was not working. At this point, I was desperate, my lie unraveling with each of his questions.

“ I’m positive, Lucien,” I reassured him, grabbing hold of his forearm. “ I know it was him. I could feel it.”

Well, it wasn’t exactly him, but if I had any chance of finding the murde,r this would be it. I had to be more convincing. I could see it all over his face…. he didn’t believe me.
“ What’s the real reason you want to find her?” he speculated.

“ Are you deaf? I just told you why!” I exclaimed, the pressure of being found out leaden feeling in my gut. I did my best to mask the half-truth.

He shook his head definitely. “ I’m not buying it. Besides, even if it was true, why wouldn’t Edwin just tell you himself? Why risk your safety by sending you to the doorstep of a ravenous oracle?”

He was making way to much damn sense right now.

“ Edwin might not know everything about the killer. He—he probably has limited experience. Who knows how much effort it took him to visit me the first time? Maybe he can only get through to me once,” I made up, attempting to make it sound legitimate.

“ There are those we call Dreamwrights, Fluer. They are gifted with the ability to infiltrate and manipulate your dreams,” he explained, concern brushed across his harsh features.
“ They can create narratives and even project visions, pulling things from your subconscious so that it’s impossible to differentiate between what is real and what has been woven. There are a few of them left, but it’s still a possibility. What if the killer himself planted this dream in your head?”

Dreamwrights. That was new.

I pressed on.
“ Well, Hallowbane, have you tracked any of those things in this area?” I prompted, trying to dispute his claim. “ Surely you would have been aware if one was present in Innswood.”

“ No, I haven’t-”

“ Well then, there’s your answer,” I interrupted, laying it on thick.
“ Lucien, I’m telling you, it was him.”

He sighed. “ I don't like this. It's risky and a hell of a lot more dangerous. And you…you’re barely trained. You’d be more of a liability than a reinforcement. How could we even be certain this is true? It’s a weak lead.”

“ Hey! I think you forgot I took down a skinweaver all on my own. I can handle myself,” I stated, crossing my arms.

His face closed into mine, features schooled into resolve— rough, almost disciplinary. “ No, you got lucky! A whole pack of skinweavers is nothing compared to Mother Viel. Its too dangerous. The answer… is no.”

“I'm not asking your permission,” I snapped, my patience thinning.

He let out a loud sigh. “ Even if we managed to magically survive without a single scratch. What makes you think she will be willing to help us? This is a terrible plan. One that will likely get you killed…or worse.”

I rubbed my thumb along the jagged scar down my wrist where her ritual blade had pierced my flesh. I knew he was right, but it still negated the fact that I needed answers, and I was in too deep to back out now. I knew she would help me. I had something she had already tried to take.

“ Edwin wouldn’t have instructed me there if it wasn’t going to work. Please, I need you to trust me on this. We need to find her!” I exclaimed with urgency.

“ No,” he stated, shaking his head. “ It’s a damn suicide mission. I don’t trust your source or your resolve. You’re too impulsive. Besides, I’m not flying into some shitshow, guns blazing on a…damn….lie. I won’t even think about helping you until you can admit why you really need to see Mother Viel.”

Damn him for being so smart.
I scowled at him.

“ I’m not lying. I don’t suppose you have any other brilliant ideas on how to find the killer? Because I don’t!” I barked back, frustration rising within me.

He didn’t respond. His silence said enough.

“ That’s what I thought. Now you can either help me or not, but I am going with or without you!” I huffed, storming past him.

He caught my wrist in his hand, halting me in place.
I tugged at his impossible grip aimlessly.

“ Let me go asshole!”

“ You’re not going anywhere,” he growled, a shadow brewing over his face.
Anger rose within me. I wasn't a dog or a child.
I was pissed.

“ You don’t own me, Lucien. I can do whatever I damn well please! Let go of my wrist!” I fired back, my voice holding ground. It sliced through the silence like a blade…like the power that ran in my veins.

He brushed off my words, eyes locked on my own with severity.
“ And just how do you plan on tracking down a centuries-old witch all on your own?” he scoffed, refusing to loosen his grasp.

“ I’ll find a way!” I seethed through gritted teeth.

He released a large breath, letting go of my wrist with force. “ Well, good luck with that. Knock your sorry ass out,” he replied coldly, stepping away from me.

God, he made me want to pull my freaking hair out!

I knew he wouldn’t be easily convinced but he didn’t have to be such an ass about it. I puffed my chest, my lungs filling with pride and a foolish desire to prove myself. The gods only knew why.

“Fine then,” I spat. “ I don’t need your help.”

He chuckled, turning his back to me and walking back towards the trees. “ We’ll see how far that gets you. Try not to die. I’m tired of cleaning up behind you.”

I cursed under my breath, making obscene gestures at him from behind. “ Well, don’t expect me at training!” I yelled after him, my last feeble attempt at manipulating him.

“ A night to myself, what will I ever do?” he mused over his shoulder, brushing off my poor attempt and disappearing into the woods.

Fine.
I didn’t need that selfish bastard anyway.

Perhaps the stranger could guide me there, if fate willed it. Or maybe I could use my blood somehow to direct my steps…if that was even possible. I was definitely in over my head. But there were things that had to be done, and someone had to do them. I didn’t care if that someone had to be me every damn time.