“You used to, now you will have a fireling. You can still call her Anwen if you wish, the whores don’t care,” he raised his shoulders. “You won’t get a wife yet; you will need to earn some levels but considering you are recovering—”
My neurons snapped, convulsing in pain and I fell to the ground like a rock had hit the back of my neck. I breathed quickly, pain gushing through my skin and pumping into every part of my body. A surge of agony floated around, engulfing everything inside and my brain howled from the pain.
I felt anger, rage, the impulse to hurt. To kill.
Conducted by the urge, I jumped the male who had crouched next to me and caught his chest under my knees, pumping fist after fist into his head, over his mouth, across his nose, I did not care. All I needed was to unload this wrath upon him. For something he had done, something he had said, I did not know. It did not matter, as long as I kept hitting him.
My knuckles broke from the force of so many blows and I did not feel my fingers anymore. The face of the male looked so mangled, I could not distinguish where his nose or forehead had been. But it was not enough.
He needed to die, he needed to suffer. I grabbed a black bar situated by the nearby table. It was crystal made, adamant or obsidian, and started hitting the male across every part of his remaining body until his screams turned music to my ears. I repeated the brutal dance, hitting and shifting to find a new spot, then hitting that again and stepping onto the next, until he finally stopped.
Until I could no longer hear his pulsations.
By the time I finished, drops of meat hung from the walls, the only proof that the male had once existed.
And I felt joy.
Chapter Thirteen
Day 13
Ever since I had the conversation with Rhylan, during which he asked me a million questions about my best friend, he had kept himself occupied with her company. For some reason, he thought Cressi to actually be my sister since she kept referring to me that way but I quickly clarified and explained how we’d met at a young age and how we had connected so well we’d basically spent all our lives together.
I did not want to risk him devising whatever plan and using her against me, Ansgar told me about blood sacrifices and blood connections and I wanted to keep Cressi as far away from all this. She did not seem to mind his company either, though every time they met I received fewer details, and she would go to sleep at her apartment instead of returning together, to avoid spending even more time with him.
Rhylan knocked on my door and made his presence known. If there was one thing I appreciated about him was the respect towards my privacy. He never entered my room or tried to get himself invited in and every time he was supposed to accompany me downstairs for dinner, he knocked and patiently waited in the hallway until I came out.
“Evening princess,” he greeted me with a smile when I appeared in the doorway, wearing a white dress. Dad already announced this to be a business dinner, which meant I had to look good, smile politely, and act my part.
“Are you ever going to stop with that?” the only greeting on my end.
“Admit it, you love it,” he snarled and offered me his arm, just like he did every evening. Which I ignored, and made my own way through, just like every evening. I did not understand why he became so polite all of a sudden, like he had turned into a respectful gentleman who wanted to preserve my honour or something. I did not trust it one bit and counted the days until this damned deal between us came to an end. I was already sick of it.
I soon realised my mistake, there was something I was even sicker of, and that was the constant presence of my ex, Jonathan, who occupied a seat at the dinner table, right next mine.
“God, kill me now,” I said slowly, but enough for Rhylan to hear it.
“What is it?” he quickly asked, alarmed.
“You know what’s worse than you?” I turned to him swiftly to scan his face, without halting my walk towards the dinner table. “Him.”
As soon as I exhaled the words, the fae’s body language shifted, his muscles becoming tense, as though he prepared to run into battle.
“Good evening Anwen, you look beautiful,” Jonathan rose from his chair when he saw me and stepped in my direction, trapping me in a hug which I begrudgingly returned. He also placed two unnecessary kisses on my cheek, keeping his lips on my skin for longer than needed.
“Hello, Jonathan,” I replied with a forced smile and shimmied away from his arms, making an excuse about my dress getting wrinkled.
He stepped away, returning to the table and holding the chair next to him for me to have a seat. Rhylan occupied the chair opposite Jonathan, with a perfect view of the two of us. There were five other men and two women invited tonight, most of whom I had met and done business with throughout the year. This looked like a launch party or a new marketing campaign and I really didn’t fancy having a business chat at the table.
I always hated business lunches, dinners, or whatever involved food, because there was always that awkward moment when I thought no one would talk to me so I shoved a big bite in my mouth, and just then, someone suddenly asked me a question. Or when the business partner would talk on and on and on without eating, until all plates went cold. Add Jonathan’s innuendos and inappropriate touches and the evening was set to suck.
“Please allow me to introduce mister Rhylan Gordon, an investor in Anwen’s business and personal guest.” My dad went along the table and introduced each member of the team to Rhylan, who nodded politely and asked a few perfectly placed questions.
I did not know how old this guy was, but he mastered conversation, ethics and could be just perfect when he wanted to.
“And Jonathan Morris, Head of Marketing, following the proud footsteps of his father and my good friend Louis Paul Morris. You might have heard of him actually, he has a few advertising agencies across Europe,” dad said.
Rhylan smiled politely and nodded in Jonathan’s direction. “Morris is such a big name in the advertising industry, how could I not? The man is a legend,” he replied then quickly added. “The father, of course.”
