“Look,” she whispers as she points to a window with broken glass.
Shards lie in front of it, and the glass in the window distorts the view. I get up and peek through the opening, where the glass is smashed, and there I witness my mother surrounded by several other women, all of them wearing markings like Caria’s.
Blood Witches encircle my mother, a different coven than the Death Witch I realize with relief, not forgetting Caria’s earlier words, that her coven is the deadliest of all. I glance at my mother, who is surprisingly laughing and talking with these witches. As I look further, I see the books she always brings along scattered, pages open, and some are being read. I stare at the absurd scene that’s playing in front of me. It’s clear she’s not being held captive.
Why is Mother involved with witches? Every day she leaves early in the morning, before dawn, sometimes she’s gone for days straight. Is she here every day? What are they doing? Is she having a tea party every day? None of this makes sense; I suppress the rising anger. I’ve put Jodelle in danger, only to find out my mother mingles with Blood Witches for the old Gods know what. I memorize the markings the Blood Witches wear on their skin. Jodelle will hate me for it, but perhaps Caria can tell me more about this coven. Even if Mother is not in danger, I cannot let this slide. My interest is piqued, and I want to know what this coven's powers are and why my mother sought them out. I slump against the wall, the markings vivid in my memory. All I need to do is convince Jodelle that I need to speak to Caria about my mother and find the guts to look into those goldeneyes. For some reason, the idea of speaking to Caria is more intimidating than talking to Jodelle.
“I was worried I scared you off,” Caria says, smiling.
“You could never scare me away, even if you wanted to,” I say, intrigued.
To my surprise, Jodelle was understanding when I told her I wanted to speak to Caria about the Blood Witches we witnessed with my mother. She figured I had to, as Caria was the only connection I had to retrieve some information about Blood Witches. There was only one sneer and comment about Caria needing to save me once more. Progress, I guess.
Caria hesitates as we wander along a track outside the city walls, tall trees on either side. For me, she lifted the magical veil.
After a deep sigh, she starts to declare herself, “I was afraid I might have been too forward the last time I saw you. When I said… I’d want to thank you in… private… It felt like you would have liked that too… But then, you didn’t even want to look at or speak to me the last few days. I amsosorry, Fynn, for misreading the situation. I… felt you… And I thought… I don’t know what I thought; my mind was a little fogged, and… I amjust so sorry, Fynn; please forgive me. I hope you will still be my friend?”
I look at the beautiful witch in front of me, her red hair glowing in the sunlight, her gleaming golden eyes welling with tears. Without thinking, I take her face in my hands.
“You did not misread anything. I didn’t dare face you because I was dying of embarrassment, that you had to feel… that. You didn’t do anything wrong, so there’s nothing for me to forgive. If anything, please forgive me for not having control over my body. That was never supposed to happen.”
“I was definitely impressed,” she smirks.
We both start laughing. Fuck, I’ve missed her, the easy conversation, the banter. I want to press my lips on hers, but instead, I pull her in for a hug, and she wraps her arms around me, pressing herself against me.
“No need for shame this time,” she says softly.
I swallow at her words, at the implication; the images from a few days ago enter my head almost instantly, of her moaning. She thankfully lets go before my cock gets the chance to warm itself against her body.
“Come, let us find a quiet place where we can… talk.”
She takes my hand, and we walk further down the path. She halts, looks around, and then tugs me into dense foliage, out of sight for anyone to see. My heart is racing and fluttering, while my head is pounding; the anticipation is severing my heart and mind. We walk through thick greenery until we enter an open field covered in yellow flowers. It’s a beautiful sight, contrasting the barren lands I’ve grown accustomed to in the past. I’m still getting used to the green trees surrounding the city. Never in my life have I seen such a large field filled with blooming flowers. The sight stuns me.
“How is this possible?” I stumble.
“Witchcraft,” she laughs.
She steps into the field, and I chase after her. When we are several meters in, she squats down and lets herself fall on her ass. She folds her legs beneath her, grinning contagiously, and I follow her example. I plop beside her, our shoulders almost touching.
“This is the place I go to when I need to clear my mind or when I need to think,” she confides.
I stare at her, noticing how she fits this mesmerizing scene perfectly. Slowly, my eyes land on her full lips, which part slightly. My eyes snap back to hers, and I repress the impulse to lunge at Caria, to press my mouth on hers. She moves her head closer to mine, biting her lower lip. I swallow loudly as I wet my lips. I hear her breathing increase, and I am no longer able to contain myself.
I grab her face and kiss her. A stinging surge through my head, but I ignore it as Caria opens her mouth, her tongue meeting mine. As the pain intensifies, we explore each other’s mouths with slow, deliberate movements. The kiss deepens, becoming more passionate while maintaining a tender, respectful rhythm. I slide my hand to her neck, my fingers tangling into her hair and locking her face with mine. No sound other than the soft notes of our shared breath is heard. Without breaking our kiss, Caria climbs on top of me, straddling me, my other hand grabbing hold of her ass. As she grinds against my bulging cock, our breathing grows heavier, the torment in my head now prominent. I do my best to dismiss it as I fondle Caria’s breast, and she moans softly into my mouth. As she reaches for my hardened bulge, the agony becomes so heavy that I almost faint, breaking the kiss. I groan, frustrated, as I reach for my head. Caria looks at me worried, her plump breasts pressing against the seam of her top, begging to be released. I press my mouth back on her swollen lips as I yank down hertop, eliciting a yelp from her. I’m not willing to surrender to the increasing pain, not when she’s in reach.
My hands latch onto her nipples, rolling them between my fingers as I hungrily taste her. When she reaches again for my groin, the hurt strikes through me like thunder, and I collapse on the flower field, screaming.
“FYNN!” Caria cries.
She removes herself from me, and I roll over into the fetal position, hugging myself as the pain surges through me, wave after wave, punishing me for giving in to my desires. Retribution for my actions. She places her warm hand on my back, softly caressing me and whispering soothing words. After a few minutes, the pain subsides, and I can sit back up.
“What happened?” she asks softly.
“I… I don’t know… Every time I think about you… in a way other than friendly… I get these flares of pain, first in my head and, after ignoring them, eventually throughout my entire body. Fuck.”
“Fynn, I am so sorry, I didn’t know! I never would have touched you if I did. The last thing I want is for you to get hurt because of me.”
“No, Caria, please, no, don’t say that. I want this just as badly as you.”
