Wheel of Fortune
Alaunus felt the abrupt loss of Aveta’s presence, as though she had been violently rent from the face of the earth. Their connection had been all that was keeping him calm as he dealt with villagers and wedding preparations all day. Knowing that she would be waiting in her little cottage for him at sundown had acted as a balm for his desperate possessiveness of her.
He gasped, falling to his knees in the middle of town and clutching his chest. The pain was unlike any he had ever experienced before. It stole his breath and blackened his vision.
Alaunus remained on his hands and knees as he battled the pain, struggling to breathe deeply and blinking his eyes rapidly.
After what felt like hours, the agony receded enough for his vision to return and his lungs to work properly. The sun was setting on the horizon and people were already ensconced inside their homes, dining alone or with their families. There was no one to witness his torment.
Staggering to his feet, Alaunus began to walk toward Aveta’s home, terrified of what he might find. As he regained control of his body, his feet moved faster and faster until he was sprinting across the meadow that surrounded the cottage.
The last fingers of sunlight vanished over the horizon as he entered the herb garden in front of Aveta’s home. The plants appeared to grow wild and tall, but Alaunus knew better. Each seedling was carefully cultivated into lush, blooming foliage.
Aveta cared for her home and garden the same way she cared for the villagers and for him; with everything she had to give. He could not entertain even for a moment that she was dying.
He would not have to live on without her, but he still wanted a chance for them to live. To watch her grow round with their babe and cradle their daughter to her breast after she was born. He wanted to hold her every night and wake with her each morn. To have more children with her and watch them grow into the men and women they were destined to be. It was all he had wanted for most of his life.
Alaunus moaned low in his chest when he saw the door to her cottage standing wide open, the fire barely smoldering in the hearth. He entered the home, stoking the fire and lighting the candles around the room. He needed to see clearly. Perhaps he would be able to find a clue as to what had happened here. Nothing appeared to have been disturbed, her jars of potions, bundles of herbs, and clothing were gone, as were the baskets she often used to carry her supplies. Everything else was in its place.
“She has left you.”
Alaunus whirled, jerking his dagger from his belt. His arm lowered when he saw that it was Rhiannon who stood in the doorway.
“You have seen her?” he asked.
Rhiannon nodded, the hood of her cloak falling away from her face. “She was leaving just as I arrived a few hours ago. I am deeply sorry, Alaunus, but she no longer wishes to marry you.”
Alaunus almost missed the underlying tone of her words as he processed the meaning. Until he saw the strange shimmer in her eyes. The black depths seemed to glow with the light of the moon and stars, though neither was visible. He had witnessed the same phenomena in Aveta’s eyes last night after she healed him. Then he weighed her words and tasted the lie. The scent of her deceit perfumed the air.
He reacted without thought, moving faster than he ever had before. One moment he was near the fireplace, the next he stood in the doorway with Rhiannon, his knife to her throat.
“You lie,” he hissed, the timbre of his voice dropping lower with each syllable. “Witch.”
Her eyes flashed brighter as she stared up at him before she carefully arranged her face into a mask of terror. “Alaunus, why do you speak to me so?” she asked, tears filling her eyes. “I had no hand in Aveta’s departure.”
He inhaled deeply as she spoke and could almost taste the perfidy of her statements as they tripped off her tongue. “You are still lying to me with every word you speak,” he growled. “I can smell it and taste it.” He reached out and grabbed Rhiannon’s arm. “Where is my mate?” he roared. “If you have harmed her in any way—”
Alaunus flew back across the room as her palm slammed into his chest, a shower of red and black sparks erupting at the contact.
“You dare to treat me so poorly?” Rhiannon hissed, her words sibilant and threatening. “Me who holds the life of your beloved and child in my hands?” She seemed to float across the floor toward him. “How reckless of you, Alaunus.”
He was on his feet in a blink and she flinched at the speed of his movements.
“By the god and goddess, you are magnificent,” she murmured. “Perhaps I should use you to create more of your kind before I take your life. I doubt many men would have your strength without your blood.” Rhiannon lifted a hand, tapping her finger to her chin. “I believe I will. A goddess should always have protectors and servants best suited to her needs.”
“What sacrilege do you spew?” Alaunus queried scornfully. “I will die before I allow you to use me in such a manner.”
“Do not speak so quickly, my beast,” Rhiannon admonished. “For your death could easily be arranged. Especially since I no longer have any real need of your power. It is likely that your child will have greater strength and talent than you possess even now.”
Alaunus felt his body grow rigid. As he watched Rhiannon, he finally saw beneath the disguise she wore around the people of the village. The bones of her face were sharp and feline beneath the unearthly paleness of her skin. Her hair was no longer black, but a blue so dark and deep that it was nearly the color of the night sky. Her eyes glowed with a supernatural light, shimmering in the shadows like those of a predator.
She was inhuman, more specter than woman, her flesh and bone knitted together by the power she stole from those around her.
“I will kill you before I allow you to harm my daughter in such a way,” he vowed.
Rhiannon chuckled but the sound ended on a sigh. “You are not strong enough to stop me, Alaunus,” she stated.
Without warning, her hand sliced through the air and she spoke one word. Alaunus groaned, clutching his belly with his free hand. When he lifted it, he saw the stain of blood on his fingertips. Her magic had cut him deeply.
His grip on his dagger tightened as something twisted deep inside him. He cried out when she repeated the gesture, this time laying open his cheek.
Once again, the thing within him writhed, like a beast fighting its restraints.
Her magic cut him a third time and he could no longer fight what rose inside his body and soul. He threw his head back and roared, more animal than man, as heat exploded in his chest and spread to his limbs.
When he could contain no more, it burst forth from him like a tempest, destroying everything in its path. The cottage shook and the stone walls began to crumble. Rhiannon was thrown back, landing ten feet away from the cottage door, flat on her back in the garden.
Alaunus strode to where she lay, moaning and writhing from the pain of broken limbs. As he stared down at her with cold detachment, she choked and coughed, a small trickle of blood escaping from her lips.
Kneeling, he fisted her hair in his hand, lifting her face towards his. “Where is Aveta?” he asked. “Tell me and I will end your suffering quickly.”
“And if I do not?” she scoffed.
He placed the point of his dagger just beneath her eye. “You will live long enough for me to make you beg for a quick death.”
The dark witch studied him silently for a long moment. “You carry more of the warrior in your blood than I thought, Alaunus.” Then she chuckled, the sound little more than a thick gasp. “As much as I admire your resolve, I will never tell you where she is.” Her mouth formed a horrifying gape, the rictus of a smile from the dying woman.
Her blood.
Alaunus’ head lifted at the whispered words, looking around him for the woman who spoke so softly in his ear. The garden was empty. He inhaled deeply but smelled no one else, only the scent of fresh spring water.
Drink from her and find what you seek.
Alaunus looked down and hesitated. He did not want to bite this sorceress. He wanted none of her essence inside him, insidious and invading.
But he wanted to find Aveta more.
He felt his fangs lengthen and sharpen as he stared down into the defiant eyes of the dark witch. As he lifted her, angling her head back to expose her throat, Rhiannon emptied a clay jar over his head.
“Life everlasting, yet forever alone. Your beloved forgotten and your heart of stone. By my will, so shall it be,” she gasped. “Enjoy eternity without your beloved, Alaunus.”
He roared in rage as the magic began to burn and bite his skin. He tried to lunge forward, to sink his fangs into her throat, but she was torn from his arms by an unseen force. A black hole opened up before him, pulling him down and away from the earth beneath his feet.
As he fell into the abyss that yawned before him, he heard her choking laughter.
Then he knew no more.