The Reaper's Wicked Obsession

The Witch sat half-leaning against the table, a trace of amusement on her face, her free hand resting lightly on the surface.

Logi cleared his throat, taken over by this woman’s aura. She was sly as she was seductive without even trying.

"How’s the progress with Isadora?"

"Do not worry, Isa’s in good hands."

"Many Skin weavers have diagnosed her condition, and none of them could reverse it. How could you?"

She grinned. "Of course, the son of Visindi, the god of wisdom, would ever be so curious."

Logi narrowed his eyes. "You know of me?"

She leaned closer. "Of course, I do. I know everything."

Logi adjusted in his seat; she was too close and yet she didn’t seem bothered. He was.

"You lost someone."

His heartbeat spiked.

"Not just anyone. Tell me, why did you doubt it until now?"

"Doubt what?" Logi replied sternly.

"What the goddess Elska gave you. You’re not stupid to never think about it."

Logi forced his eyes away, it was almost as if her violet eyes could see through his soul and he didn’t like it. The fireplace suddenly provided a much better view.

"There is nothing to think about, the bond was never made."

"Yes, because you never accepted it."

"Perhaps Elska made a mistake."

"Elska never makes a mistake. Time was evil to you both before you could truly accept each other, and when it was finally friendly, death came to ruin as always." She leaned off the table and walked to the fireplace, her heels clicking as she went.

Logi’s bottom lip trembled slightly, a sting in his eyes.

"Do not be ashamed, Logi, or be angry about what could have been or what you couldn’t accept. Despite the bond, you both had a friendship that transcended the bond itself, and Marek died fighting for the good cause. Rest assured that he was taken under the wings of Krig, the god of war, honored for his sacrifice. He’s at peace."

Logi turned away, covering his mouth as he broke into a wreck of sobs, hot tears streaming down his cheeks endlessly.

For moons he had locked away the feelings that wanted to eat him alive, he had worried about Isadora and Kraven as his priority, silencing his shattered heart.

Yet now they didn’t matter. Nothing else did; it was all about his grief, all about recognising the pain and accepting it.

The Witch took a rose from the table, crushed the petals, and cast it into the fire.

~♧~

Kraven was seated atop a tree, watching the view. His attention was grasped when a songbird perched beside him.

He raised an eyebrow in question, usually, birds were scared to even be around him because of the aura he emitted, but this particular one didn’t seem to worry as it went on chirping melodiously.

But Kraven knew after that day Isadora saved his life, something within him changed. There was a shift inside him, his shadows became lighter and easier to wield.

And his thirst? Gods! His thirst. It was there yet, at the same time, it wasn’t. It was almost as if it came forth only when he wanted it.

It was strange, but it was a welcoming feeling, and for the first time, he felt as if he was breathing the air properly. He was in control.

It could have been the result of no longer playing games with his thirst, or maybe it was just waiting for the right time to strike.

He might be in control, but that doesn’t mean he would let his guard down.

"When will you tell my daughter you’re mates?"

His gaze leveled down at the Witch, standing with one hand placed on the tree. "The right thing to do is to tell her the truth, or are you scared that she might reject you?"

"Once again, you prove how informed you are. I’m starting to think that you’ve been spying on us the whole time."

"I was," she confessed. "When I was slumbering."

Kraven narrowed his eyes.

"In the hour of an auspicious day, within the 20th winter, I’m meant to rest to keep this body," she explained.

This caused a question at the tip of Kraven’s tongue. "How old are you?"

"Older than you," she amused. "But don’t look at me like I’m an old hag. I still have my youth!"

"You’re a mannfae and yet you have a long lifespan."

She shrugged. "It comes at a cost I can’t escape. I would have shielded my daughter if it weren’t for this a long time ago if it wasn’t for this."

"I can’t sympathize with you." freeωebnovēl.c૦m

The Witch huffed. "And I don’t expect you to." She stepped closer. "It’s time for you to man up and accept the bond. I understand you’re afraid because of what lives inside your head and how corrupt your soul is."

Kraven’s teeth clenched. "Don’t speak as if you know anything about me." He vanished in a trail of dark weaves and reappeared behind her.

The Witch smirked and turned slowly to face him. "The mate bond isn’t like that of your father and mother. Their union was a Forced Mate ritual to produce strong heirs. It was tainted and went on for generations, and this caused the wrath of the gods because it went against the Goddess Elska’s blessing. In return, your bloodline was cursed with the mad gene."

Kraven stilled at her words, the truth slapping him right in the face. "It’s a curse and not a bloodline detect?"

"It’s both." She stepped closer. "And Isadora is the redemption the gods have given you. Do you think Daudi just let you escape his Hand? You have no idea, do you? How important you are to this Realm, the real reason you arose from the dead to conquer."

"What are you saying?" Kraven asked in a low tone, his gaze turning lethal.

"You’re not the end, Kraven Val Thrond, you’re the beginning. Both you and Isadora. Your destinies are intertwined and prophesied."