Without waiting for his response, I turn on my heels, and approach the buildings' brick walls, continuing to walk in the shadows that envelop me; safe and away fromhim. Being near Elijah like that makes it hard to breathe. His playful smirk, those eyes full of desire glancing at me, sent a shiver down my spine, one not of fear.
Agitated, I slam open the inn door, startling some of the customers, who open their eyes wide at the sight of me or probably my odor. I’m sure it’s because my scent is now an eerie mixture of myself, the Aurum, Emrys, and anger with confusion. The Blood Witch behind the counter flinches when she sees me, straightening her back as she waves me over, sending a male sitting across her away. He gives me a swift look, then his eyes dart back to her as if mutely asking her if she truly wants him to leave. A barely noticeable nod does the trick, and he gets up and goes to sit somewhere else, still nearby. Another Blood Witch; as I look at the markings on his skin, I notice they’re different from hers—meaning another coven. Emrys's words slither into my mind, reminding me that our minds are one.
Oleander is what you see. He’s of the First Quarter coven, another deadly one known for obscuring their opponents' senses, blinding them with fog. Intriguing that he mingles with a Death Witch like her, a youngling.
Interested in Emrys's remarks, I approach her.
“Witch,” I say sarcastically as a form of greeting.
I purposely lower my guard, showing her that I, too, am no threat, despite the Aurum surrounding me. I have no intention of hurting her, nor does Emrys. She visibly relaxes as I’m aware she can tell the difference in my scent. A trick Emrys explained to me to understand how I can wield the Aurum a little bit to my advantage.
“Freak,” she responds evenly, sarcastically.
I bark a laugh, not expecting that response, and I take a liking to her for showing nerves of steel. She laughs along with me, slightly nervous, giving away her anxiety.
“What is it that you want with me?” I ask, cutting straight to the point.
“Not one to waste time, huh?” she muses.
“In that case, I’ll also pass on the pleasantries. Fynn told me you egged Jodelle to go after me, and I was curious why that was the case. I was not aware I had evoked any ire from you… or your partner, for that matter.”
It does not go unnoticed how she cautiously refers to Emrys as my partner. I look at the pretty witch in front of me, how her shadows are meek on her skin, not even daring to taunt me as if they know their opponent, my beast, would swallow them entirely. Her long flowing red hair, those intriguing golden eyes. She’s trying to play me and extract information from me, information she will relay to Fynn the first chance she gets. She likes the asshole, meaning she might not be too fond of his newly forged connection with his soulmate.
“You didn’t. It had nothing to do with…you,” I tell her, picking my words carefully, knowing I’m treading on thin ice.
“I honestly thought something was going on between you and Fynn, especially with how he looks at and talks about you. Besides, he and she… It’s not even… Never mind, forget about it. I shouldn’t tell you these things. My sincere apologies. I never would have guessed she’d be such a moron to challenge a witch like you. I would have shut up, but I was honestly surprised to see her sitting there, with Fynn, all cozied up.”
I furrow my brows, pretending to be stupefied to find them together. I fumble with a coaster, spinning it around, as I feign my own anxiety about the topic.
“What do you mean by them, not even what?” she presses.
“It’s nothing… I… promise me you won’t tell Fynn I said this to you. He’llliterallykill me,” I laugh.
She frowns, then confirms she’ll keep whatever I tell her a secret, too eager. I knew she’d take the bait when it came to her precious Fynn.
“I… I don’t believe what’s going on between them is sincere. You know, he doesn’t look at her the way he looks at you. I think hebelieveshe’s in love with her, but he’s actually in love with you. He’s in denial about it all. Honestly, if you ask me, he would be much better off with you,” I say.
Shock is written all over her face as she asks me if I think he is truly in love with her, and I tell her I genuinely do. I tell her that, in my opinion, she’d be a much better fit for my brother. Her cheeks flush, and she giggles girlishly at those words, but I see it—the emotion shining through briefly, a hint of revulsion, so fast I barely register it.
“Are you okay?” I ask, feigning worry.
I cock my head at her, slightly squinting my eyes. In that split second, it dawns on me she is orchestrating her own little game, one I have no desire to be part of.
“Yes. Yes, definitely. Thank you for clearing the air with me.”
She gives me a saccharine smile.
“Of course.”
I return a small smile and put the coaster down.
In the span of mere seconds, the atmosphere shifts from casual to one of peculiar unease. The words spoken between us were a testing of the waters, neither of us ready to drown, to bear our truths. I’d rather guzzle an ocean whole, draining my lungs of oxygen, before succumbing to a witch’s games.
I thought I had figured her out, believing she had a romantic interest in my brother, but just now, she broke character in front of me in the blink of an eye. She knows I saw it, observed it, yet I remain silent. I’m uncertain of what she’s doing with Fynn, undecided about her sincerity toward my brother.
A part of me prays fervently that Caria will betray my brother's trust, stomping and breaking his heart in the process to such effect that it kills him. I hope that with his death, his mate will languish in pure suffering, her soul torn to shreds, unable to heal, resulting in her ultimate death as well. For now, I’ll let the witch have her little secret; my lips will not unravel a word.
I glance briefly at the Blood Witch and then at the other one, the male witch with the oleander markings, who’s sipping on a glass of water not far away from us, within hearing distance. His piercing glare is focused on me, not Caria, like a watchdog. I beckon Emrys to view what I see; we take in this stranger's appearance together as I stare back at the male.
