She had come crashing into Striga’s room, tears streaming down her face, flames dancing around her fingertips, and fell to the floor by Striga’s bedside.
“Please,” she had cried. “I cannot lose you, too.”
So Striga had carried on, enduring every lonely day without her love, to help her great-granddaughter. And with her training, Adriana’s Incantrix brand had become clearer and darker down her spine as she’d grown older, her powers evidently growing stronger by the day. She knew she would take over from Striga one day, that she would take her seat on the Incantrix Court. According to Striga, one of Divina’s final visions before her unfortunate death spoke of the important role Adriana wouldplay in the wars to come. It was a lot to carry on her shoulders, a burden she still didn’t quite yet fully understand, and she only wished she were strong enough to be the person she needed to be.
The only time Adriana really felt free, free from society and free from the weight of her powers and emotions, was when she was alone in nature. And so she had taken the old beaten path through the woods rather than the roads that led to the town, allowing herself just a few moments to herself to feel at ease.
Adriana hauled back on the reins as she spotted two carriages along the side of the road leading back towards her home. Her horse came to a stop at her command, still under the shade of the trees, where she watched a finely dressed man step out of the first carriage. He knelt down beside it, inspecting the broken front wheel that stuck out at an unnatural angle, before looking over his shoulder towards the busy village. Then, with a swift movement, so fast Adriana might have missed it if she’d blinked, he lifted the entire weight of the carriage and kicked the wheel back into place.
As he straightened, removing his hat to swipe a stray lock of dark hair from his brow, a strange feeling twisted in Adriana’s stomach. The sharp jaw, the dark features, it was all familiar to her.
He leant into the carriage, his mouth moving as he spoke to whoever was inside before wandering down a side street on the outskirts of the village, but Adriana was too far away to hear him. She swung down from her horse, the worn leather of her saddle creaking softly, and followed him down the alleyway that he had disappeared into.
The narrow passage, flanked by damp stone walls slick with moss, stunk of stale ale and forgotten refuse. A rhythmic squeak of a water pump grew louder as she rounded the corner, leading her to the small shadowed courtyard of a tavern she had secretlyfrequented a few times. And there, hunched over the pump as he scrubbed his hands beneath the water with clear agitation, stood the same man she had met eight years ago.
Alexander Duran.
A sudden stillness fell over him. He straightened abruptly and removed the leather gloves he held between his teeth, his eyes narrowing like a predator scenting danger. But the feral intensity drained away instantly, replaced by a look of utter shock as his gaze locked onto Adriana.
“You,” he spoke, recognition flashing in his eyes. “I know you.”
Adriana swallowed as she gathered her thoughts, halting her steps to keep some distance and take a good look at the man. She was used to most people being taller than her at her short height, but he was so tall the top of her head only came to the base of his throat. He was dressed in an all black fine-fitted suit that hugged his strong, slim figure, with a high neckline and long sleeves. As her eyes wandered to the dark swirling markings on his hands, he slowly pulled his black leather gloves on, hiding his Nocte brands from sight.
She brought her gaze back up to his face. His hair and his eyes were both such a deep brown, but had rich warm tones that shone in the sunlight that scattered through the buildings. His skin was a light golden brown, with dark stubble dusting across his jaw and above his full lips.
She had thought he was good looking when she met him, but she had been a child then. Now, standing as a young woman, she knew without a doubt that Alexander Duran was the most beautiful man she had ever laid her eyes upon. It wasn’t just his physical appearance, or the intense power she could sense surrounding him, that drew her in. It was more than that, more than words could explain, and it was no wonder she had been unable to have any dreams over the last eight years without him appearing in them.
His stare never left her eyes, and she could feel his power poking at her mind, looking for a way into her thoughts. A small shadow crept across from where he stood and slid across the ground to her foot before gliding around her ankle, making her jump slightly. Though, it wasn’t menacing or threatening. Despite its coldness, she could feel the warmth intended in its touch, as if it were greeting an old friend.
She steadied her gaze to meet his. “I would be disappointed if you had forgotten me,” she said confidently. “After all, eight years is but a blink of an eye to your kind, man in the shadows.”
Alexander merely smirked at her, his eyes crinkling in amusement as the realisation of exactly who she was seemed to settle upon him. As his head tilted to the side, she felt his eyes looking her up and down, taking in her muddy skirts and riding boots, her hair haphazardly tied back into a braid that had begun to fall out, her dress cutting low on her chest where she had not bothered with a corset.
“Now, how did a servant girl from Lady Striga’s house break free of my power?”
She shifted under his scrutinising stare as she felt a strange feeling in her head, almost as if someone were politely knocking inside her mind. He seemed to notice her discomfort and pressed more, taking a slow step towards her.
“Oh,” he laughed. “Nowshe 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 toregain his balance, and his back landed heavily against the damp ground. The presence in her mind retreated.
