Page 9

ISABELLA

If witches, vampires, and werewolves are involved, this only means one thing – spells. Now, it’s obvious that Sofia wants to kill Victor and control the vampires. The problem is that because she is not a vampire, Sofia needs to bind herself to the vampires to rule over them. Hence, the need for a witch.

What if she succeeds and kills my father? Let her kill him . It is a thought that crosses my mind frequently. He is an evil man. The world would be better off without him.

Even though this village is mainly populated with werewolves, Jacob strongly insisted I stay at the Inn while he questioned Caleb. His explanation was that the wolf could be unpredictable. He is right, I understand that, but I want to be out there with him – learning, solving puzzles, and helping.

The room we are staying in is nice, but boredom settles in quickly. We picked up a few books at the market for time to pass faster. It worked for a few hours. Unfortunately, I already finished them. Now, I am sitting on the bed of a fancy Inn, staring out of the window as the sun sets behind the surrounding trees.

“We can go look around the Inn,” Tengu suggests from next to me. “There is a bar area and some hot springs outside.” The vertical slit in his eyes thins and his lips stretch wide.

We’ll go because Tengu wants to . That is what I tell myself. Otherwise, I will choose to stay here out of fear and wilt away from the lack of stimulation. I can already feel my mind going numb as random thoughts pop in and out. My body is getting restless with the need to stay busy.

“Okay. Let’s go look around.” I can’t hide my excited smile from him.

Tengu laughs, his voice low, and vanishes into the ring I carry on the necklace around my neck. I tried to wear it on my fingers, but it kept sliding off. The best solution I came up with was the small, golden necklace Vera gave me.

My heart beating quickly with the thrill of adventure, I walk down the wide set of stairs. Unlike all the other Inns we stayed in, this one is luxurious and sturdy. The wood is dark and polished, and it does not creak. The rugs are plush and dark, yet cozy.

As I make my way down, I use my vampire ability to hear and smell my surroundings. According to Jacob and Tengu, because my angel side has been activated, it is practically impossible to sense me as a vampire. I should be safe, but I want to be cautious.

There is a clanking of glasses and chatter below; it is steady and even, people talking about everything and nothing. The smell of alcohol follows. It is not a putrid scent but soft and calming. I would almost call it classy.

Should I get a drink? The exciting thought passes through my mind. I do have a little money that Jacob gave me. No. Maybe when Jacob is back.

A few people sit in the bar area, chatting and sipping drinks. The environment is different from what we have experienced previously. I expected loud men yelling and harassing the serving girls, but no. The few females who sit with the men seem to enjoy the peaceful conversations.

Pleased with what I see, I relax and inhale. With the large intake of air, something in the air gets my attention. It is sweet and musky. Tilting my head, I let my curiosity lead me to it. Walking away from the bar, I go through a barely lit hall.

My heartbeat escalates at the lack of light, but I keep going. At this moment, I wish I could have Tengu next to me, but if a human sees him, it will be chaos. There is a door at the end. It is smaller than the rest. The scent is coming from there. It is so appetizing, I must know what it is.

Against my better judgment, I open the tucked-away door. A steep set of stony stairs with only one lantern on the wall leads further down. Bringing my eyebrows together, I listen. Someone is there. I hear something— screaming, and – moaning?

Don’t go any further! My brain screams at me.

With my fingers shaking, I press my palm on the cold stone wall and take an unstable step down.

Go back . The reasonable side of me says.

Keeping my sense of smell on high alert, I keep going down. The screams get louder, the smell stronger, and my heart beats faster. I don’t stop. What if there is someone who needs my help?

The space opens to a large open hall with thick doors running along it. The air warms drastically, and the evenly spaced-out lanterns create a soft light; it’s calming against the rocky walls.

A screech rings through my ears – loud, piercing through my brain. I jump and look around, dread filling my chest. A gasp and a moan follow, leaving me confused. Someone needs my help. Without thinking, I run to the closest door and push it open with all my might. The sight in front of me freezes my limbs on the spot.

A naked woman with her arms and legs spread out is tied to a post. Sweat drips down her body as she squirms with her head rolled back. My mind buzzing, I watch, unable to blink, move, or breathe. A man is on his knees, his face in her womanhood. One of his hands is reaching up, squeezing her breast, and the other one is holding her butt.

She is restrained, she needs to be freed . The terrified part of me wants to run and rip away the chains.

I inhale, my mind scrambling to find a way to help her. Then, the scent fills my lungs – delectable and sweet. Why does it smell so pleasant? My body shakes, but I can’t look away. She is tied and held down, gasping for air, yet it feels like she is enjoying it.

I feel sick. I don’t understand what is happening. My chest is heavy, my hands become cold, and my forehead sweats.

Memories . They will soon come to haunt and suffocate me.

“Shh. Come, child,” someone says from behind me and takes my hand.

The touch is soft and careful. I want to pull away and run, but my muscles loosen, and I feel groggy. Warmth soothes my mind, making everything feel okay.

I’m okay. The thought is prominent, forcing me to relax.

An older woman with curly black hair leads me somewhere. I don’t care. I am content following her. She guides me to a chair, a dark green dress flowing with her small frame. Following her instructions, I sit.

“There you go. Now inhale,” the woman says and sits across from me, her brown eyes shimmering against the flames of a candle. “You’re okay,” she whispers, holding my hands in hers. I blink, my body shivering. I should want to run away as far as possible, but she feels safe, so I simply stare. “They are not being hurt. Not in the way you think. They want this – need this. Some of them find healing like this,” the woman says, her gaze sympathetic.

My head jerks back at her words. How could anyone need something like that? To be tied and forced to scream while they have no way of escaping. The woman looks at me with a soft smile and tilts her head slightly. The way she watches me makes me feel as if she can see through me.

“You followed the smell. What was it?” she asks, her smile tender.

“I don’t know,” I croak out.

“Did you like it?” She waits for my answer patiently, her face kind. Swallowing, I nod. She lets go of my hands and leans back in the dainty chair with a satisfied smirk. “Arousal,” she says.

“I don’t understand,” I whisper, afraid that something has finally broken in my brain.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to understand if you don’t want to, but I can show you if you want.” She leans in again and cups both of my hands in hers.

She seems genuine, but I am deathly afraid of the memories. I haven’t had a nightmare since Jacob started holding me at night. What if she shows me awful things, and the monsters come back?

“I have memories…” I whisper, a lump forming in my throat. “Monsters…” I tell her, and my lower lip trembles.

Why am I telling her this?

“I know…fear grips your heart.” There is sympathy and understanding in her eyes.

Unable to hold back the tears, I sob and look away. The chair scrapes, and her arms wrap around my shoulders. She is smaller than me, but she squeezes me tightly into herself.

“Show me,” I mumble through a sob.

By all saints, I am so tired of being afraid. If there is a chance she can offer me something, I will take it.

I expect her to walk me somewhere into a room. Instead, she places her hand over my chest, letting me feel unexplainable things. The power of trust in bondage; how freeing it feels to simply let go. The way pain can be euphoric with a sense of safety. I can place my hurt into the hands of someone I trust, and that can chase away the lingering pain in my heart. She draws me a picture that is beautiful and freeing.

Trust. Safety. Bondage. Force… Arousal.

The concept is strange and confusing, but the woman in front of me organizes everything in my mind. It helps me breathe.

Opening my eyes, I blink and pinch my eyebrows. Who is this woman? Studying her, some pieces come together. She is a fairy. Those usually strictly stick together. Why is she here alone?

“How are you feeling?” she asks, her tone delicate.

“Okay…” I mumble.

My memories are not crushing my soul; that is a good start.