CHAPTER 26:
"That was insane. You were insane!" Genevieve squeals, hand on my arm as we walk through the night after more class and into the main dinner hall. It looked like a snowy Christmas miracle, except for the fact it wasn't Christmas. Wooden chandeliers hung with candles strung alit and drums and crazy violin music played on the side stage as roast meats, vegetables, greens and ale by the looks of it was transformed into quite a feast for all the students. As opposed to the modern look-a-like of a combat training centre of white, grey and black colours scouring our surroundings.
"I made a deck of cards." I giggle, sharing her excitement with gratitude in my lungs that could barely reach my throat when I meet the hot and heated look Creed shares with me when I see him in the Legion standing which was a level higher than ours.
Genevieve sees it and squeals like a fan girl as she sees the exchange. I turn away first after he dips his head and gives me another long look.
His stare can be intimidating to all others, but to me—it meant I would have my back slammed to a wall later and his taste consuming my every thought...hopefully. Who knows. He made me forget why I was here and who else of my past was here too and I held onto that.
Headmaster Hale was a different story, she looked tense, like something was about to happen and that this feast was some sort of 'last night of freedom' type of dinner. Genevieve and I take our seats among other students of different years, ignoring the way Elrond looked at her from across the room and piling hot food on our plates. She seemed more invested in the vegetables, especially the beans.
The doors suddenly slammed open and in confusion, I didn't catch Genevieve's gaping gasp at the entrance of an older women with an eye for beauty move into the room with cut-throat precision and an even sharper tongue when she purses her glossy reddish pink lips. Blue eyes narrowed and golden blonde hair that cascade in enriched ringlets down her hourglass body.
This can't be good.
She must have been the infamous
I realised I was looking at a headmaster of Lúthien Academy, the all-girls-school where I'd used a cover, Cassie Swan, to infiltrate Melian on that mission Houser Lott was involved in. Passing information through like typical gossip girls except without phones.
She clearly wanted a meeting with Hale, and only an audience of her arrival, but not the exact information she wanted to either dish or put or demand like a Queen of some kind. I didn't doubt she wanted something—if her arrival didn't scream it, then her narrowed eyes, pursed lips and overall taut expression certainly did.
Pearl Forlorn, headmaster of a school that took pride in girls using whatever means necessary to get what they want. It almost seemed threatening, damning in some cases, but nothing I haven't seen before, until she snaps her eyes around and finds the person she wanted to interrogate.
Her death glare was tied deeply on me.
I take a sip of my drink, "If you don't mind, Miss Swan, I need a private moment with you." Her witch-like voice was hissing, she was aggressively pissed off. Likely threatened, Hale watched us both, so did Legion, so did other professors and every student in the vicinity.
I give an easy smile to her and stand, before gesturing a hand to the exit.
She folds her arms, eyes narrowing on me, "Have we met before?" She questions me. Like it was strange, a déjà vu knock to the brain. Like someone scrambled for a memory within and wanted to identify every picture, frame-by-frame.
I furrow my eyebrows at her, "No. You wished to speak?" I ask again, moving first, because I certainly wasn't going to have the student body watching my every move. She follows, Pearl had her dark eyes levelled in on me the moment we entered the colder forest structure that barely coloured green with the dark night looming over us both.
I face her, she purses her lips, "You impersonated yourself as a teacher in my school with someone from Melian...did you think that would go unnoticed?" She fuses into the icy air with her frozen nature. She was not the kind to walk in by herself and make quick demands like she owns this territory.
"I was not the first offender, Pearl. That would be you and Melian attempting to share information based on studying this school. That breaches security codes conducted by our very own Central Kingdom, the High King himself. Would you care taking the stand at court? Arguing that my intervention stopped your secretive, but manipulative notions to cheating before the games?" I wonder, tilting my head and my chin just so.
She narrows her eyes to stilts, "There was no such cheating in my school. State your true name, I demand at once." She positions the saying 'deny, deny, deny' into this conversation.
I give her a look, "Do you really think I can't place documents with your signatures to follow through with studying students at Nocturne, slipping spies in without anyone noticing? This school wins for a reason, it's not arrogance or wealth, despite what your negative aura is telling me you believe that it is." I gesture to her specifically.
"Who the heck are you?" She snaps.
"Well, that's un-lady-like. You'll grow wrinkles if you keep your face in that permanent expression." I point at it, she scrutinises me, before glancing behind me.
Her jaw clicks, "This is not any of your business, Legion." She demonstrates a show of annoyance in the newly warm air as fingers touch the small of my back and a low, guttural growl from Rakon has me leaning further back until those fingers shape my hips and torso. Tingles follow and his thumb strokes the thin shirt I wore, dancing over the shape of my navel.
Pearl's eyes widen as she watches. Her lips part, like she couldn't believe or even imagine in any world of what she was seeing in this very moment. It was odd, seeing the expression on her face before she snapped her eyes back over to where Headmaster Hale stood and watched.
Pearl strutted over with only one more calculating look back at the brooding man above me.
Creed moves closer and I stand between his legs at the outcome of his movement.
"Strange of her to reveal her guilt just by showing up here." Credence voices, his eyes directly on the woman.
"They thrive on remaining pretty, perfect...some can mistake it for innocent. She's conniving—and it hurts that it's exposed now. She may just expect me to hold a position in the tournament. Too bad she won't get to see it." I murmur, and instead of leaning back against Creed. I move aside, my mind wandering to Athena's. She was at the breach of the entrance, her mind on mine. She was in my thoughts, learning of her brother's position in the depths of Creed's dungeon, or cave. It was large and had some sort of dome-like tool to secure the two of them.
She moves languidly down the steps and stares deep into my eyes, "I want to see him." She murmurs.
"Read his thoughts, you mean? Understand his pain, perhaps?" I squander for some sort of swift connection as to why she looked guilty for some odd reason. I glance to Creed, he studies and scrutinises us both, before nudging his head over. The very elevator down to doom was silent, but heated.
When the doors opened, Creed gestured to one guard and the dome over Nicolai clicked. The machinery let off a heavy thud as it unlocks and reveals a naked, chained up and drained wolf. Only in his human-form.
Athena's footing is cautious, she glides closer and squats down, surveying him. I move and sit down on the cushioned planks by the edged walls. Creed sits next to me, thigh-to-thigh, "Do you sense anything on him? Anything about him?" He asks me, barely audible in this large, encased structure.
I purse my lips, "I can't read him the way she can. Answers based on physical observations can only get you so far. Besides, a man who doesn't know how to treat a woman properly makes it difficult differentiated lie from a plead to be released." I mutter, he slides an arm around my waist as Reid drops on the other side of me, but with half a metre between us.
Creed turns his head and rests his lips on my hairline. I lean closer to him.
Athena turns to look at me, "He wants to talk to you." She murmurs, aloud.
I gesture to Creed to follow me. Walking closer, I felt sickened by the sheer smell of grime and sweat. Nicolai's blood in the mix. My fingers tingle and twitch with anger, anticipation and frustration. Whether I should just dump him back in the human realm, supply him to the right kind of authority.
He struggles to look up, but when his silver eyes meet mine, Athena looks away with a clenched jaw. I glance at her, "Read every thought, I don't want a single lie from him." I tell her.
She studies the chains on him, "He'll comply—he doesn't want to shift again." She whispers.
I look at Nicolai, his eyes hold mine—they do not waver. I squat down, "Why? Is it painful to be held down? Left in a cage?" I wonder, eyeing the predator like I could end him in one swipe.
He swallows harshly, it's painful. That was clear in his expression.
"Athena...helped you fake your death." He whispers, raspy and hoarse.
I don't blink once, "That tattoo you inked in my skin after the rejection—how was it created? Did you use a spell-binder then? Without my knowing? I have to take a guess since I doubt your abilities are strong enough to obtain that kind of magic." I mutter, he runs his eyes over every inch of me.
"Y-you're different." He spurts, taking a sharp breath just to get air in his lungs. The exchange of oxygen and carbon dioxide was so very different down here. I can imagine it to be far harder in the dome.
"Elemental magic coursed through my veins before even I knew it. Before Elias confirmed anything or before Alastair knew what he was dealing with. You realise that ice king was there when I was." I point out, thinking it would spark something in him.
He lowers his gaze over my hair, "How you look even more beautiful is beyond me." He breathes out.
I grab his neck with a dark blue flame around my fingers, he writhes and winces against the sharp burn, "Answer my questions or I'll remove your first set of dead skin cells. The closer we get past the epidermis, to the dermis—your next layer, you'll understand the moment I crush through fatty tissue to the muscle. You'll bleed—and it'll be my turn to enjoy seeing it." I sneer at him, releasing the grip and pulling my face back.
I align it to his.
"Answer me." I order.
His eyes flicker, "Alastair lost my concern when I lost you." He whispers.
I tilt my head, "What—you just lost all care in the world when your punching bag removed itself from the equation?" I ask him, incredulously, "You began killing more people, gaining the attention of other realms. Likely because you killed an elemental or two. Why risk it?" I mutter, eyes searching his.
Silver irises bore into mine, "Council agents—ones who went rogue after I was kicked out of Darkling territory. The title didn't matter when you were gone. How did you get my sister—my own flesh and blood to lie for you?" He asks me, taking a deep, lungful breath.
"She didn't agree with what she saw—you being a temperamental, moronic abuser. At least someone there reacted in the right way, not take the easy route and ignore your bullshit." I slice coldly.
His gaze follows me as I stand, "Fire elemental...how is that possible?" He asks, eyes in wonder and awe.
I step behind him before focusing hard on his blood. Every cell, the flow and direction of his every fluid in the brain stem first, I solidly drill into. His breathing quickens, chest rises and falls, he buckles against the chains. Athena gasps and clamps her hands on the back of her head, "Ah, stop. It hurts." She cries out.
I huff and pull out, "Then get out of his head while I do it." I growl.
Creed furrows his eyebrows at her, "Why is she feeling it the way only he should be?" He questions.
Reid purses his lips, "Sibling connection—I don't know." He shrugs.
I frown and look back to Nicolai, "Hmm, you may have more powers than I wished you were granted. The goddess was what? Generous in that regard, or just highly problematic for me. I truly wonder why I'm the laughing stock for her." I scoff, gesturing for Hayden to remove Athena, she wasn't helpful in this stance.
Nicolai grits his teeth, watching her go, then he snaps his eyes to mine, "What are you doing with the dragon mutt?" He pulls out of seething teeth.
I raise a brow, "I doubt that's any of your concern at the moment. You need to focus on breathing calmly—because if I detect a change, or any sense of shifting, I'll leave for a couple days and then come back for more. You're only valuable if you give me information. If she's above ground, the connection you use should be distanced. I'll boil your blood, formulate clots, maybe enforce a stroke in your brain or something. I haven't tried before, but practice makes perfect." I threaten, eyes moving in. I lean down and tap my forearm.
"How did you get that tattoo in my skin when we met?" I solidify.
He stares at me, "I did that. You were being too stubborn, you didn't give me a chance." He argues.
I stare at him, "Alright, so if I complied in the beginning, then showed defiance—you're telling me you would have talked like an adult, compromised?" I wonder.
He purses his lips, "We have no way of knowing now. You started it when you took one look at me and saw nothing good."
"I was right, rejections may not be common, but I saw something I sure as shit wouldn't see improving. Not ever—the ink, the magic in it. How you could control me with it—how is that your doing?" I ask next.
He closes his eyes, "You mean how is it possible?" He toys with me.
I straighten and position my feet parted a little.
His eyes burn with hot glossiness, "S-s-stop." He pleads.
I ignore him for five more seconds. He writhes against the chains, I let go.
He slumps with a puff of air from his salivated lips.
"Reina and Robert treated me beneath them. Only you had power, only you had authority. That was the way of it. I rejected you because I don't see a connection there, something formed that was wrong. It had the wrong orientation, it cloaked the wrong set of numbers in a bond formulated by mates combining together. We didn't interweave with one another, that same occurrence of wrongness happened with Elias and alas—with Alastair. All of you have used me to benefit you one way or another. It was all very wrong and you knew it. You created a forced inked link anyway. It's more despicable than a rejection." I spit at his knees.
He visibly falls apart, breaks down like a broken man with no way to speak out his true feelings, "You were mine. You were finally mine. Even as a child—why can't you see it?" He bleeds out.
I throw arms and look at Creed, "We may not get anywhere with him. I don't yet know if I need warm blood directly from the body into the rune pool to confirm what I know." I mutter, stepping around Creed who looked taut and concentrated.
Theorin studies me, "What about the tournaments? It may be your only way in." He murmurs.
"I'm not participating in another set of games. There's got to be another way in. Just haven't found it yet." I utter under my breath.
Creed presses a button and for a long second, I hear the thud click and a sharp fuming of air. Before Elias's dome lifts up and reveals a slumped over man in the dirt. The smell of something vile and grating has my eyes widening. It was his own faeces and excretions.
Creed doesn't look fazed, "Lovely." He mutters.
Elias tucks in a gigantic breath. Lungs expanding as I stare wide-eyed at it. Guards with masks on shovel through the grime and every piece of Elias's messes. Elias—eyes red-rimmed and in such pain looks around, breathing in air.
Theorin bites back a disgusted grunt, "Shit, we may have suggested not to open up the dome for a week or so."
The guards unlock a stilled Elias, he looked...haunted, feral even.
I cover my nose for a moment, "Get him to the showers." Creed instructs.
Elias is dragged out, he won't be talking any time soon. Creed slowly looks to me. I meet his ember eyes, "We found out some concerning news about what he was doing. The reason for physical transformation—he was draining you." Creed explains to me.
I frown, "How?" I ask him, confused.
Hayden clears his throat behind me, "A skilled elemental, one of his caliber can utilise other magical beings, draining them of their years by taking years off his own. The changes to his age, skin, hair, organs—he used a connection linked to you and took what? Thirty years off. When he's kept down here in his own excretions, the years are returned slowly. He looked older right. We needed a reversal of such a force of magic to give back what he was trying to steal." Hayden explain to me the exact horror I couldn't have learned without an elementals handbook and education behind me.
The way a doctor—a neurosurgeon at that—needs enough knowledge of the human body to operate and remember, even on the operating table.
I felt sick.
I felt the bile swirl in my gut. I turn and step left, right, squat done, "Bloody hell." I breathe out.
"Creed caught onto it before the damage could become noticeable." Credence adds.
I intertwine my fingers, "He was using me too. What else is fucking new?" I mutter.
"At least I didn't do that." Nicolai says, eyes on me.
I stand up harsh and faster than lightning, "NO, JUST PUNCHING ME AND SCRATCHING ME AND HARMING ME WAS FINE! HUH? WAS IT BETTER THAN DRAINING MY LIFE?!" I roar at him, fists clenching tight that the veins pulsed in my knuckles.
Nicolai stares, wide-eyed.
One hand.
Motion on my shoulder.
My fire hisses out, my wolf-eyes measure and transfer out—human green back in place.
Creed gently presses a soft movement against the back of my neck.
I close my eyes, before taking the remote and pressing it down to Nicolai's dome.
His screams and pleads for me not to do it were useless.
I stare at the other dome's position, "He wasn't reversing his age because of some mate bond, he was draining my years just so he could live longer."
How could I keep missing it?