𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬

25 | I'm Too Old For This

What a silly girl.

The male phoenix instinctively heaved her into his arms like she weighed nothing, leading them both towards the bottom landing.

"Hey!" Novalie's childhood friend chased after them. "Let me take her."

"No." Mishal's irises were liquid fire as he effortlessly took two steps at a time, bringing himself and his precious bundle upstairs, completely away from the crowded foyer.

"Bastard, you can't just kidnap her..." Lester practically seized. "I don't trust your slimy intentions—I'm coming with you!"

I frowned, watching as the Dark Representative compulsively brought Novalie into his protection.

"You." I turned to address the one with silver hair, baseball cap strategically twisted around. "Go upstairs and give this to her."

The girl's reflexes kicked in as I threw an EpiPen at her, snatching it out of thin air and reading the label.

"We have two Soul Spirits who can use healing powers, why give it to me?" She frowned, but nonetheless got up; rolling her eyes in a manner that made me want to chastise.

"Go," I snapped harshly. "And take that one with you."

The Neutral Representative stood at attention, a finger pointing at herself in confusion.

"Since you asked so nicely," Yonavich scoffed. "Let's go, Fable."

I knew that the female caladrius was decently trained, so she would be of beneficial help.

My stomach churned suddenly, further making me wish that the lycan spirit would hurry. I could feel tingles reaching across clammy flesh, an uncomfortable sensation that lessened to the degree in which Novalie would experience.

"Lyric, you're not at Mayfair Manor." The snake gave a reprimanding look, before giving me another piercing glance in passing. "Also, how did he end up coming alongside you?"

"Complications." I subtlety released an aura of calm around the room, watching as Lyric's shoulder's lessened in tension—Benedict's harsh exterior softening just a smidgen.

"Impossible..."

My gaze blandly took note of the voice's owner, taking in a tiny figure with ringlets of white hair. Something fierce jolted inside of me, yet all I did was lift a brow as she continued to gawk.

"You're just like me, aren't you?"

"You mean cold, wet, hungry, annoyed, and extremely aggravated?" I gave her a thoughtful glance that looked anything but kind. "Then I suppose so."

The girl looked shocked, and somewhat self-conscious, as I turned away. My soul knew what she was. There were high levels of discomfort in this discovery, so much so, that I simply forced myself to reject the feeling altogether.

I could care less about Kindred Spirits, not now, not when there's an astronomical problem I'm trying to fix... not when Novalie is in the middle of it all.

With that final thought, my gaze then fell upon a middle aged man who abruptly entered the main foyer; he looked taken aback by the scene which greeted him.

Arthur.

"I was wondering why you kids weren't coming over to eat." The manor's host paused as he made eye-contact with me, a sense of déjà-vu hitting us both as we were reacquainted. "Who's this young man?"

I remember him clearly, but the other had no harbouring recollection. Arthur was only a child when we first met, and it would have been astonishing if he remembered the face of a mysterious man fatally injured near his father's property, crawling amongst trees in desperation.