Blood Bound to Drathmor

Chapter three

The smirk left her lips immediately as her face went back to being cold and expressionless.

“Raven, the future ahead doesn't need fragile minded werewolves. You are weak, you are only a pawn in everyone else’s game. If the only way is your death then so be it.” “Get out, now.”

The tears fell. At this point I hated my life. There was nothing I could do to save it. I felt just like my mother and everyone else described me— weak and vulnerable. I couldn’t even look her in the eye anymore. I watched her walk back steadily to the dressing table. My mind was a tornado in my head. I turned on my heels, my hands shook as they approached the door knob.

Thoughts were in my head, worse than before as I approached the wooden door leading to the garden. My legs felt shaky. My mother didn’t care if I lived or died. Was she just selfish or was it me who had this path all along. Knowing her, she had other plans growing in her head. She gave me to Drathmor for a reason and I would definitely find out.

I walked steadily into the garden, shutting the door behind me. I looked around but didn’t find MaryAnn where she said she’d be. I tried to sense her but the cold of Drathmor and black calla lilies filled my nostrils. I couldn’t even hear her. It was peach black, only the moon illuminating the night.

“MaryAnn?” I called out, half whispering.

The faint smell of blood and smoke hit me almost immediately. It filled all my senses, so quickly and sharply I could taste it. My heart beat propelled faster. Thick fog filled the entire garden, I couldn’t even see my feet. I panicked.

“MaryAnn?” I shouted as the smoke filled my lungs.

I picked the base of my dress that rolled on the floor. Although I couldn’t see where I was going, running is better than standing. I didn’t get the chance to move my legs when cold fingers wrapped around my neck from behind. My heart stopped.

My breath shattered in my chest, thin and useless. The cold fingers tightened just enough to warn me they could do worse. I didn’t scream. I couldn’t. The fog swallowed the sound in my mouth before it could be born.

“Don’t run.” A voice said behind me. It was flat, calm, too close.

Xavier.

The name formed in my mind without permission. His scent wrapped around me, now unmistakable. Blood, smoke and night. It presses against my senses until even the fear blurred in my head.

“I wasn’t,” I managed, my voice barely there. “I was looking for my maid.”

Silence. His hand slid slowly from my neck to my shoulder. I wanted to turn around but the firmness in his hand did not let me move. I pressed against his chest. I felt every single structure of his chest pressing against my back.

“She’s not here,” he said. “You shouldn’t be either.”

“She was supposed to wait here for me. I couldn’t sense her anymore.”

“Why are you here?” His fingers tightened around my shoulder. It froze to the touch.

“I needed to see my mother.” I said, trying to sound firm.

“You shouldn’t see her.”

“We shouldn’t be married.” I retorted.

His breath landed on my neck. Cold but steady.

“You belong inside.” He said not unkindly, not kindly either.

“I don’t belong here at all.” I said, before I could stop myself.

“I don’t care where you believe you belong,” he said, his voice holding nothing but annoyance. “The wedding is starting now.”

Before I could utter another word, the sound of a bell filled the air. The fog didn’t clear from the garden, it just became softer. His hand finally left my shoulder. He walked past me slowly. My eyes caught his dark robe, in exactly the same material as my wedding dress. The fabric caught in the moon light, leaving an even glow across it.

The fog began to retreat, peeling back in slow obedience. The garden appeared in pieces. Black calla lilies and some other flowers I couldn’t recognize. But no sign of MaryAnn. I couldn’t help but wonder where she had gone.

Xavier continued walking. He didn’t look back.

“Come.” He said.

I followed. Not because I wanted to, but because I didn’t have a choice.

He didn’t offer his arm.

Xavier walked fast, like this was something he had done a thousand times, and I was just another thing meant to follow. I kept a small distance between us, not out of pride, but out of fear that if I got too close, I would lose the small control I had left.

The hallway felt endless. Cold ran through the soles of my feet, through the thin courage I was pretending to have. My dress felt too heavy. Every step pulled at my waist like it wanted to drag me back, like the fabric knew I wasn’t ready.

The doors open. My chest sank as my breath caught in my throat.