He and I went against all odds, a bond between the two of us, rare in its nature, a human and an Umbra, a consensual choice. One of free will, despite my cursed nature. A choice I will fight for, that Emrys will fight for. Despite that strange urge within me that pushes me to Elijah, I know deep down it’s Emrys I want. I want him for eternity and beyond. Emrys completesme; the missing pieces within my soul, which I wasn’t aware of, were misplaced until I met him. The moment I heard his voice in Valorya, I recognized a familiarity, awakening an absence I didn’t realize I was suffering from. My soul sensed him instantly.
As we make love in front of the fireplace, neither Elijah nor Fynn occupies my mind; Emrys is present solely in my maze of thoughts as his warm body is pressed against mine, his blood wetting my lips, his teeth in my neck. My worry disappears, replaced by bliss.
It's these moments that I live for, our souls fusing together, our bodies melting into one.
The blood splatters are everywhere, the murders are a mania; it’s on the street, the stones of the gate, on the walls of houses. Limbs brutally ripped from bodies, fractured bones thrown across the ground. This was personal, an attempt to inflict as much pain and terror as possible.
I look at the ruined carcasses with a raised eyebrow and murmur to Emrys, “I'm glad I wasn’t on the receiving end.”
Instinctively, he pulls me closer, as if his scent covering me is not warning enough not to come near me for those who are willing to try to harm me. The dwindling magic makes him more vigilant than usual. He is afraid he might not be in time toprotect me. He rarely leaves my side. I find these protective and possessive characteristics extremely arousing and attractive.
Humans. Strange. I wonder why they roamed within these walls… Why would they stay?
Emrys looks at the gate opening, laces his long fingers with mine, and tugs me back to the entrance. The gates are tall, the stone old and worn. Regular ivy is climbing the walls, unhurriedly destroying them with its roots. Emrys eyes something warily as he places a hand in the air. A faint, glittering rippling occurs, barely noticeable, and my eyes widen as I see it happen.
Wards, my love. I heard about such magic before. No humans can enter or leave Valorya. The witches must have trapped them inside, leaving them vulnerable to attack.
Emrys takes me in his arms as he scouts the surroundings. As he glances around us, he reassures me.
I need to learn what happened here and whether there have been any sightings of the Dhampir, Tempest. I couldn't care less about these humans or the citizens of Valorya, for that matter, but I need to know whether the city is safe for you to explore, especially now that the magic protecting you is decreasing.
I nod at his words, aware that the effectiveness of the Aurum is less prominent each passing day. I wonder if Fynn knows whether the creatures around him can smell it. Would the waning magic put a target on his back? An invite to attack him, that he, unaware, casts around, he and that girl of his, his spurious soulmate. I hope they find their death without my interference, and this town becomes their tomb. The peace of mind is something I welcome. The imagery of Fynn and Jodelle torn to shreds comes to mind, their cries of agony, an imaginary sound that brings comfort.
My love… if the witches trapped these humans… and the wards are to keep humans out of the city, how was it possible for me to enter?
Our bonding most likely took away some part of your human nature, as in you are no longer entirely human… I never thought about that, Harlot; I'm so sorry for the effect. I never meant to take away your humanity.
I shush Emrys; the fact that his essence flows through me is comforting and something I welcome. Given that our bonding fused our eye colors, I am not entirely surprised that my being is somewhat altered, and I am no longer fully human. I can't help but smile, warmth filling my chest.
“Sunshine! Look at you, girl, still glued to that tick of yours, huh? When are you going to end that?”
A voice I’d recognize out of thousands; thrill and revulsion collide upon hearing the nickname he gave me. I gyrate, and Emrys holds me firmly, his body stiffening from rage; rage at this petty human who dares to give me a nickname, to defy him. Elijah is either incredibly brave or plain stupid; I'm betting on the latter, given he has most likely never encountered an Umbra before.
A pull from the curse, trying to force me toward Elijah, away from Emrys. I can feel the pulse coursing through me, irritated with my resistance and disobedience. It’s almost as if it’s trying to tell me I had fun, yet now it's time to fulfill my duties. Despite the urge, I resist. I hold on firmly to my love for Emrys, pressing my teeth together as frustration simmers beneath the surface.
“I told you to stop calling me that, you moron,” I hiss.
“I’ll call you whatever I want if it gets your attention, Sunshine,” he retorts.
“Did you and bloodsucker over here already say your goodbyes? You know the time is nearing. I know you can feel it,too, this sizzling energy between us. Don’t you feel the need to explore? Like I do? Look, Harlot, it seems we've lost the battle with the supernatural this time, so I’m unsure how long we'll stay. All I know is that you and I… we are meant to be together, and he… he can get lost somewhere in his woods for all I care.” Elijah speaks firmly as he waves dismissively at Emrys as if he doesn’t matter.
Elijah is challenging me as he crosses his arms and stares me down; he’s unable to enter the city. I scoff. That explains his newfound confidence; he’s trying to convince himself he still holds the reins, but it’s all a hollow front. I pry myself from Emrys’s arms and stomp over to Elijah. I stop before the wards, ensuring I do not pass the magical barrier between us.
“Let’s get one thing clear,” I sneer, shooting a stern glare at him as I point at Emrys. “He and I are one. Ichosehim, and I will always choose him. Don’t ask or tell me to pick you, because I never will. Don’t threaten what he and I have, as you will never be able to sever our bond. EVER!”
Pain shoots through my head as if I’m struck by lightning, the curse showing me its dismay at my actions, and I grit my teeth as I speak the words, not willing to give in to the pain. It will not prevail this time. This time, I will fight for my love for Emrys, for our genuine bond. Elijah needs to know that I will never choose him out of free will. His and mine would be a relationship of empty souls, souls not meant for each other, not genuinely recognizing one another, because there is nothing to identify. I tell Emrys to hold me as I start to feel my feet slip out of my control, slowly shuffling toward Elijah, the curse set on driving me past that barrier. I’m no fool; I will no longer have sensible control over myself once I pass that boundary. If Elijah tries to hold me, or worse, kiss me, I will likely let him, and I have no idea how that will affect these surface-level false emotions.
Emrys is at my side in seconds and puts his arm around my waist, holding me in place. I can feel the fury rippling over my skin as my actions resist the curse again.
I see the anger flare in Elijah’s hazel brown eyes, too. His muscles are going rigid at my words, the sight of Emrys holding me, the curse encouraging him, his false love for me numbing his actual senses. He tries to reach for me, but the wards block him, sending him flying backward. I gasp as he lands with a sickening thud, but, entranced, he scrambles to his feet, running back to the gate entrance—the undetectable blanket of magic, the only thing standing between us. Emrys pushes me behind him in a split second, standing in front of me defensively, shielding me. Elijah tries to look around Emrys, craning his neck, but my tall, broad monster obstructs his view. I press myself against Emrys’s back, silent tears leaving my eyes. I need Elijah to understand, to oppose the curse, and to grasp that his emotions are not genuine. I’m convinced that if we defy it together, we can defeat and erase it from our lives.
“If youevertry to touch her against her will again, I will hunt you down, tear off your filthy hands, and set your face on fire,” Emrys growls.
Emrys’s breath becomes sharper with each inhale, his rage building. His disdain and fury for this human are palpable, the one who tries to lay claim to what is his—me.
“She wants me, leech; she’s just too afraid to act on it because you refuse to give her free will,” Elijah spits back.
“You’d be surprised how strong-willed she is. If she’d chosen you, she’d be in your arms right now, yet she is in mine. Consider this my final warning: if you dare to touch her without her consent, you will die by my hands, and it will be far from pleasant. I’ll make sure of that.”
