Every single person I was angry at flashed in my mind, like a flickering book of images.
With each flicker of face that passed through my mind, a pulse of vibration zapped through my veins. Every single candle within the old man’s room burst to life, just as the fire rose higher, blasting the small room with a heat that had sweat dripping down my back and swirling around that damn mark.
“Not my anger huh?” I snapped as I looked around the room.
“Amaya.” Rasped behind me, looking back at Ziel and his raised brows, I huffed.
I shoved passed Ziel and stormed from the cottage.
No onehad answers. I had accepted I was a Dark Witch, yet I was told I still needed to accept something? And being told my anger wasn’t going to help, pfft. So far, my power had only revealed itself during my time with Rí or when I was angry.
A firm grip on my arm halted me. Ziels slightly red heavy eyes caught mine. “Come on,” he muttered, leading me out of the dishevelled garden and passed the bright and sunny cottages.
I ripped my arm from his grasp, ignoring the way my mark had itched like mad begging for his attention and gave him my best death stare, meaning every ounce of it and stormed down the street.
Fuck him.
What was the point in taking me somewhere that wasn’t even going to help me? What was the actual point of it?
“Will you fucking stop having a tantrum?” he sighed with a smoke hanging from his lips as he easily caught up to me, his long legs strolling whilst I walked with fever.
Stupid little legs.
“That paper I took-it’s the spell the Dark Witch used to transfer some of her magic to Yim. They were Circle Mates, but he was utterly human. She wanted to stay in Wisteria with her sisters, and he wanted to be with her. So she gave him some of her magic. Brought him through, kept him hidden but alive. He’s the only one its ever worked for. Took a lot of tries a lot of magic. But it worked. This was nineteen years ago, one year before the war, when the witches blew themselves to smoke.” Inarrowed my eyes at him in annoyance. How long had he known all of this.
“He aged quickly after; eighteen years were more like forty to him. Yes, he has Dark magic within him, its miniscule. The minute its real owner died the magic dies with it.”
So if I gave the twins some of my magic, I just needed to stay alive? To live a long life for them. I could do that. I could live for them. Everything I do is for them. Would it be so bad, to spend my life with them running the long dark halls of the castle, Jerry and his kindness, Rí and his possessive passion? Looking up at Ziel, I wondered if it would even be so bad to spend it with him. Would I become…happy? Would I be satisfied with life. Would it matter?
“How long have you known all this?”
Tired. I was tired of the games.Tired of all the secrets. He shrugged, his eyes now clearing from his drug induced smoke.I nodded, because I think I understood. Why would he tell me all the answers? He didn’t know me. I didn’t know him. We were essentially strangers, strangers who had their souls torn apart and scattered before being shared. We may share a deep soul connection, a mark claiming each other as theirs, but who said we had a choice in this matter? Who gave him the choice?
He frowned down at me, searching my face for some emotion that would make him understand my thoughts. I kept my face neutral, clear of emotions and feelings. It was always better this way. When had I even begun to change? To give away bits of myself to people Ibarelyknew?
The flapping of wings had me turning away from the Death Warrior. I waited for Ravioli to land on my shoulder. The sharp sting of his talons digging in were almost welcoming.
I was so tired.
Tired of not being with my boys. I was tired of being silent, tired of holding in my anger, tired of never allowing my true cold rage to seep through. My mind was constantly filled with the noise of life, the constant chatter and ebb and flow of being alive, it was exhausting. The twins saved me, but deep down, very very deep down, I missed that feeling I had when those pills stared back at me. I missed the knowledge that I could be done with it all. The obsession had taken over of course, and with that the rage had built and built and I swore, I swore on everything I was, that one day my rage would be witnessed by the man who poisoned me with it in the first place.
Twenty-Eight
‘My Truth-Veritas Mea’
Ziel
She was silent the entire way back to the castle; after stopping at the halfling’s and grabbing that book, she ignored me, not once aiming those big eyes my way.
It pissed me off.
I wanted her gaze; I wanted her anger and irritation. It was the best look on her, the way her lips would purse in a pout, her brows would furrow, and her chest would rise in a heated breath. She was fucking glorious.
I didn’t like her ignoring me, however, everyone else ran from me, avoided me, feared me. I didn’t care if others ignored me, but nother. Never her.
I knew finding the answers were frustrating her; if I had them all I would give them to her…well…some of them.
The dead whispered to me here and there, giving me bits and pieces. Whatever they had told me I had passed on to her, eventually anyways.
