He grins at me. “You definitely left an impression, as he was willing to bring his mate into danger for you.”
My shoulders slump, and my laugh fades away. “Because he still believes we serve some sort of purpose, I can feel it in my bones. Otherwise, he would have let me perish.”
Interwoven Volatility
Fynn
Chapter 11
Angrily, I kick against the bed, the wooden frame not budging, and I scream out loud as a stinging pain jolts through my foot. I’m sure I broke a bone somewhere. Jodelle bites her lower lip, holding in a chuckle. It makes me want to smash her head against the window in hopes that the glass shards embed themselves in her thick skull, but I refrain from doing so. My jaw ticks as I clench my fists, my knuckles turning white from the pressure. The intrusive thoughts are becoming harder to ignore, sometimes taking over without me being able to stop them. I don’twantto stop them; if anything, I want to execute them, to blur fantasy and reality.
I would have yesterday, with Caria in the flower fields, if my vile sister and that leech of hers hadn’t distracted me with their presence; I would have burned Caria until she was on the brink of death. It was mesmerizing to watch her skin burst as I slowly cooked her, but seeing Harlot… If it wasn’t for my damn sister, I know I would have dragged Caria into that lake to let the death witch drown—a slow, agonizing death according to the dhampir. I would have watched her fight for her life. The image of her face surrounded by tiny bubbles filled with precious air imprints itself in my mind, as her lungs fill with water. It makes me giddy. I shake my head and begin to massage my temples, a desperate attempt to erase the vile imagery I conjured. This isn’t me. I don’t want Caria dead.
Are you sure? Shouldn’t all darklings die at your hands? Especially treacherous death witches like her. They do nothing but lie and deceive.
While lost in my thoughts, I notice Jodelle observes my features, and again, the urge to hurt her comes over me. A longing takes hold of me, the desire to hear her bones fracture, the sweet sound of breaking her neck, her cries of pain. Without saying a word, I leave the room. I listen to her call my name, but I ignore Jodelle. This is me, upholding my promise to keep her safe and not to hurt her.
I quickly glance at the bar and see a new girl washing glasses and chatting with the customers—her raven hair cascades down her back, complementing her dark skin. Her hazel eyes give me a quick, knowing glare—definitely a death witch. I don’t bother asking her name; nothing about her draws me in. She’s beautiful, yet it seems as if my heart has only devotion for two women, both of whom I now want to be bordering on death. If anything, I feel the need to burn the whole place down, asfrustration takes over and leaves me unstable. I have to know where Caria is.
So, I can kill her, finish what I started.
I growl as I pass by a shadow beast, which hisses loudly at me, even though it’s not Hako. Fucking stupid beasts. I try to kick it, but my foot goes right through its smoky body, the beast's shadows curling around me, only to retake its shape on top of a table. It bears its multiple rows of sharp teeth at me. I don’t understand why my magic doesn’t turn it into a small pile of ashes. Irritated, I stomp out of the establishment. First, I’m going to visit the dhampir. He might know where Caria hides. Somehow, he always knows these things.
“Mother?” I say, mortified to find her at Faas’s place. The dhampir’s arms hang loosely around my mother's shoulders, as if they belong there, and I stare at them, stunned. The dhampir’s bright green eyes meet mine, his stare cold and warning. My mother gives a tight smile and asks what I’m doing here instead. I glare at her in disbelief.
“Are you fucking kidding me? He is my friend. Why areyouhere?” I demand.
“Language, son! I will not tolerate any disrespect toward Adira, not even from her own child,” Faas roars.
My mother leans into his touch, her head resting against the monster's broad chest.
“What is going on here…?" My voice is low, but I feel rage starting to ignite within me.
The idea that my mother also fell for a dark creature makes me feel sick. A whore for darklings, it seems my sister merely follows in my mother’s footsteps, or perhaps it’s the other way around. Both deserve to be taught a violent lesson.
“FYNNIGAN!” my mother shouts.
Hearing her stern voice snaps me out of the heinous thoughts that are eating away at my core. My eyes snap to hers.
“This isnothow I raised you,” she hisses. “I’m an adult, and if I want the company of a male friend, I do not, and WILL not explain myself to my children.”
She steps away from Faas and stops in front of me. My mother folds her arms as she cranes her neck to look up at me, as I tower over her. Even though my mother is a short woman, she still terrifies me. I’ll never forget how she hunted down that vampire who tried to kidnap Harlot when she was younger and murdered him in cold blood. I slump my shoulders in defeat.
“Fine… I guess,” I mumble, unsure how to respond.
“I wasn’t asking for your permission, young man. How about you go take a walk to blow off some steam?” my mother says sternly, her arms still folded, and I don’t miss the sly grin on Faas’s face as he watches her scold me.
This tiny woman, who isn’t afraid of any dark creature, no matter how strong they are, has a love for my sister and me that’s stronger than anything, even fear. Her presence demands my respect, and I have no choice but to give in. I feel partly guilty for investigating her and losing trust in her motives. Yet, I can’t help myself—with everyone around me lying, I have to ask.
“Why are you visiting witches, Mother?” It comes out more as a plea than a question.
She narrows her eyes at me. “To break that damn curse that holds you and your sister prisoner. I go to witches because they offered their help in return for an offer they couldn’t refuse, Fynn. I made a bargain to save my children. To saveyourlife.”
“Anything else you’d like to know?” she asks, tapping her feet impatiently.
I shake my head at her, quickly glance at Faas, who raises an eyebrow at me, then gather myself. As I close the door, I witness my mother and Faas kissing. An unsettling feeling takes hold of me, but I can’t quite put my finger on why. I call the dhampir my friend; why can’t I feel genuine happiness for my mother? Another thought gnaws at me… When did Faas and my mother get so close?
Following my mother’s advice, I walk along the sandy trail, avoiding the city, and choose to go deeper into nature. The trunks and foliage of the trees, blending into the magical forest, are barely noticeable. It’s a slight color difference; the leaves are slightly brighter green, and when you pass through, a magical ripple occurs in the air. Only when you are aware of the passage between the two worlds will you notice it.
