Page 31 of The Faebound Trials (Mates and Madness: The Phantom Prince and The Bloodweaver #1)

On day four, we lost hope. Kell had gotten worse.

Ellis hadn’t given up so I didn’t either.

We tried. He showed me ways, forms how to better execute bloodweaving.

And for three days he taught me things about how to properly bloodweave so we could hopefully try using it on others aside from ourselves.

And I had learned so much. But somehow, the days were like a blur.

Ellis was still asleep while I decided to wake up early to try bloodweaving again on Kell.

I didn’t know what I was doing. But I wanted to help Kell in any way I could.

Ellis had taught me how to recycle our blood. Like tricking our blood sugar levels so it wouldn’t send signals into our brain that somehow triggers hunger, fatigue, and dizziness.

Hearing it somehow made me believe we could be much more than what we are.

The method he taught me was perfect, since we were stuck in the dungeon for three days without fire, food, and water. And it helped me survive.

Ellis had also taught me how to control my blood pressure, and my glucose for energy. He said I should be careful when I bloodweave because bloodweaving affects the blood pressure in my body, that maintaining our blood pressure was crucial. Too low would result in weakness and fatigue. While high blood pressure could potentially lead to stroke.

That there should always be a balance. I asked him then, “What If I needed more? In an excessive amount and I had no other choice? That does potentially decrease my blood pressure?”

He then answered, “not only potentially, it would, yes. That’s when you need to convert water into blood, to supply enough into your body, to maintain the balance. Too much and too little should never happen. Or you burst into pieces of meat. Pressure is important as much as keeping your mind intact. Always remember that.”

I stopped recalling his words from yesterday and prepared myself to try bloodweaving again.

The thing is, ever since Ellis started teaching me how to bloodweave, I could see it now.

The strings that were once invisible to my eyes.

He told me to call onto it, that I could whisper to it to materialize it.

These strings hummed with more than magic, it had a soul, one that I could only pull and twist and make it dance the way I wanted to.

He said the strings were different for each bloodweaver, it could be in different shades of color that were somehow close to the color of blood.

He was right, it was easier to work on it when you could see it.

But still, at the back of my mind, there was something about this power that makes it dangerous when you don’t see it slithering in your way, twisting around your neck without you knowing it.

I felt sick to my stomach. How could I think like that?

I called onto it, whispered its name.

“Blood. Bind. Weave.”

Then the strings appeared harshly, angry at my call. The ends of my bloodweaving was razor-sharp dipped in the deepest red—untamed and vicious red.

Chaos sparked in the way my strings hummed.

From the ends of my pulse, the strings were attached like an extension of my veins, of my soul, a ghost-like claws in the shadows.

And then it flowed into the air, no longer connected to my pulse, like it was an individual thing, a breathing soul.

It remained disconnected to me.

“Weave,” I ordered.

But my attempts were ignored.

“Weave. Bind. Thread!” I chanted random words, more frustrated than before.

I wasn’t sure what I was doing.

No one had ever done what I wanted to do.

Use bloodweaving on another living being.

The others couldn’t do it either, so what made me think I could do it?

Still, I wanted to try. I wanted to help Kell.

I was partly at fault why they were here.

I focused on the sleeping state of Kell. Whenever I would try using my powers on him there was this invisible barrier stopping my strings from touching the beating sound of his blood.

Now that I was very aware of it after Ellis pointed out how each and every living being had pulses glowing under a bloodweaver’s eyes for a split second, I could see where their blood exactly flows. I could see where the path of their blood goes.

Though it was only for a second, I had seen it clearly.

Kell’s veins glowed like an inferno red.

Ellis’s veins glowed like burning rubies.

Mine glowed like bloodfire.

I guess it was common among bloodweavers for their veins to glow red.

Did the humans glow the same? How about the fae?

My mind was drifting, I needed to focus.

I tried to break through the barrier once again. Stabbing the same spot again and again.

I gave up, feeling my sweat dripping down my back.

Thinking of another way, I stared at the entirety of Kell. Or somehow the entirety of the human body.

If I wanted to strike someone where they were the most vulnerable, where should I strike them then?

The middle, where the heart hides? I commanded my powers to strike Kell in the sternum, only then to be pushed back again.

I guess it wasn’t there then.

Where else?

The lower abdomen?

My talon-like threads formed solidly, making my eyes widen in surprise, I could do that too?

And when I commanded it to strike, I was only met with disappointment.

What’s next?

Spine? His back was on the ground.

My eyes darted to his throat.

That seemed vulnerable.

I strike the invisible barrier around his throat. And still, nothing happened.

“Practicing early?” A low and raspy voice echoed.

I glanced from where the voice came from, beside the innocent Kell who I had been striking for minutes now.

“Just trying.”

Ellis sat up, his inky black hair was tousled from sleep.

I noticed Ellis tosses and turns a lot while sleeping. I wonder how Kell was still in such a deep sleep, considering Ellis was such a restless sleeper. I would wake up from the dead.

“Well. Don’t stop for me.”

I pulled my thread again. This time, I swear this would be the last time today. I was growing tired from the exertion.

Bloodweaving was exhausting especially this power tethers from the mind of the weaver.

What else seemed shallow enough to get into?

I opted for a gentle touch, instead of striking.

My talon-like threads shaped into something similar to ribbons.

This time, I didn’t intend to strike.

“Thread. Touch.”

I circled around the upper parts of the body.

I was done with his neck.

Now I aimed for his eyes.

The softest part of the human body.

Behind those eyes, the brain lies.

I let the threads slitter, circling around his mouth, up his nose, now to his eyes.

“Strike.” My command was a little more forceful now.

I inhaled and without thinking I let my blood flow through the ends of my threads ruthlessly.

I put all the pressure on both ends, as I tried what Ellis said, I converted water into blood if I wanted to up the pressure while maintaining my blood pressure inside.

So I did.

And there it was.

I felt it.

My hands trembled when I realized there was a shallow part I had touched.

Still it happened.

A slight touch to where his pulse was deep and loud, around the wrists where the bloodweaver’s veins glowed inferno red.

It changed into a purplish black for a split second, when I felt my threads brushed to his.

I turned to look at Ellis, only to see shock decorating his handsome face.

That means I wasn’t dreaming. It happened.

And he had seen it too.

We were both silent for minutes, letting everything sink in.

Ellis stood slowly as he walked towards the metal bars of their cell.

“It’s possible, Lowen.”

My heart was still wild inside my chest.

“It is.”

Ellis’s mouth opened but before Ellis could speak, the door leading to our only freedom opened, the rusty metals created an agonizing sound that scratched something in my brain.