Page 23 of Fated In Ruin
There was a muffled shout, some scraping, then two equally large, brutish males dragged a struggling girl between them up the alleyway, the hood of her cloak covering her face as she fought, small, pale hands pummeling mountains of muscle and brawn as the two forced her to her knees.
This didn’t feel like a dream, more like an illusion—but my mouth dropped open when the female’s hood slipped off, the hairs on the back of my neck lifting. Holy fucking…
Yes. She looks remarkably like you, Vicious. Is it any wonder that you took my breath away, the first time I saw you?
Shut up. What the fuck is this?
I already told you. This is the beginning of your story. Now listen and watch and remember.I shivered in fear, and something warm pressed against me, a touch reassuring enough to send a wave of calm through me.
Aoife flicked her cold gaze over the girl, then turned back to Caine. “I have six other daughters.” The witch’s voice was dispassionate, but her hands curled into fists until her knuckles whitened. “Do your worst.”
The girl on her knees—me—didn’t so much as flinch at her mother’s callous dismissal and when Caine moved, letting a band of watery light illuminate her face…her eyes were the exact shade as mine.
My heart pounded in my throat. This was like staring into a mirror.
“Oh, trust me, I will,” Caine murmured as he whipped out the biggest fucking knife I’d ever seen. Bright silver, the blade was strangely made, both edges curved. He grinned as he pressed the keen edge against the girl’s throat.
“Last chance, Aoife, and we both know you cannot lose this particular daughter, so make the right choice. For her sake, if not yours.” The blade pressed harder, a trickle of blood tracking down her pale throat and all around her, shadows painted the air with darkness, the alleyway thrumming with power.
“Fine,” Aoife’s nostrils flared, “I will obey, but you cannot have Rhiannon. I will choose three witches—and only three—from my coven to serve you and your beasts. That is my final offer.”
Caine, focused on the welling blood where his knife met pale skin, didn’t see the glance mother and daughter exchanged, but I did. One final agreement, a mother’s desperate sacrifice, giving her daughter a chance at a life.
The same look my mother gave me before she rushed out of the house and met my father in the street, trading her life for mine and Angel’s. Fury gripped me like claws, and I started to shake at the look of satisfaction on Caine’s face as he pulled the bloodied knife away, knowing he’d won.
Then the dusty alleyway blurred into green.
* * *
I wasin a circle of trees in a dense, overgrown forest, where moss dripped from tree limbs and everything smelled…alive, like the primeval world was still finding its feet.
Caine waited on one side of the clearing, Aoife behind him, her pale hair streaked liberally with threads of silver. Her face was lined, her eyes fogged from age, though Caine didn’t look a day older, and I had no idea how much time had passed.
How fast did witches even age?
“Why are we stopping here?” Caine asked, bored. “There is an entire village beyond these trees and my males are hungry.”
“I am old and tired and cannot walk as far as I used to. Give me a moment to catch my breath, Master,” Aoife murmured, her face expressionless, though her murky eyes burned with emotion. Behind them, more figures emerged from the dense woods.
The two Elders I recognized from the first vision, and five others…all of them brutal and ruthless, dark haired, with not a shred of decency in their devouring gazes.Holy shit, power poured off them, clogging my lungs.
Then, behind them, ducking beneath a low hanging branch, Ravok came into view.
He was bigger than the others, almost a giant, wide shoulders and arms packed with layers of muscle. His thick neck was covered by a dense beard, his dark hair was gathered behind his head. But his face made my racing heart slam to a stop, filled with such cold savagery I shrank back into the trees.
The moment I moved, his dark gaze settled on me, as if he saw me, hidden in Malachi’s memories.
I stepped back, my foot slipping on something wet, and when I glanced down, found the leaves and grass coated with something dark and shiny.Blood.
Holy God, this entire clearing was a blood circle, though I couldn’t smell anything except the rich, fecund scent of growth from the forest. The amount required for creating such an enormous circle was…horrifically staggering.
And Caine and Aoife were well inside the boundaries.
My breath caught in my throat.This was a trap.
An old man hobbled into the clearing, his ancient body bent over a crooked wood cane, his beard yellowed around his mouth with not a tooth in sight, a vague trail of shadows dragging behind him. “Greetings, strangers, welcome to Aachen.”
“I have no time for this, kill him and continue to the city,” Caine muttered, turning away, only to freeze in place, his expression shifting from boredom into confusion and finally fury. “What have you done, witch?” His hand whipped out and closed around Aoife’s arm, dragging her closer.
