Lunaria (A Soulmark Series Finale), page 18
Can I rely on my intraflora to protect me? Will the earth, or this very tree, heed my call should I request it?
"The ones with spirit are the most satisfying to break. I've been working on Carrie for months." His coarse chuckle rasps too close. "The alpha in her makes it quite the challenge, but she's coming along. Ever since we captured your friends, she's become more... undone.
"Of course, I attribute that to my work. People don't understand the patience one must exert to truly dominate another. A few more well-placed hits and another couple of strings undone, and Carrie will be the perfect alpha female below me."
I flinch as a hand cups my collar. Noah's face presses intimately against the crux of my jaw and inhales deeply.
"Christ, you smell good."
His other hand gropes at my bottom, and my indecision breaks. I call upon my magic and might, and with a determined cry, push against his chest. The magic bubbles up, but not enough.
Although my magic fails to reach the surface and provide extra oomph to my defense, I do not relent. With all my might, I push.
Noah stumbles back three paces. Gold slashes through his hazel irises, and he sends me a wolfish grin full of pointed canines.
"I knew you still had some fire left in you." He closes the distance between us before I have the sense to run. Both hands seize my head and angle it back, so I am forced to look at him. "You aren't half the woman Carrie is, but breaking you will be so satisfying."
Disgust sours this morning's breakfast in my stomach, but with my anger roused, I ignore it. Noah's thumb brushes small circles to my chin till it hooks on my lower lip. His eyes alight with hunger as the pressure of his body increases against mine.
I bite the offending appendage, latching on before he can pull away. Noah curses, but with apparent mirth, and rips his thumb free.
"Such spirit," he murmurs, eyes roaming my face as he steps back. "Shall we?" Noah offers his arm like one of the gentlemen from Aunt Mo or Aunt Lydia's favorite movie.
I shove down my pride, and the hot prongs of my ire, knowing I have no choice. I take a deep, calming breath so as not to provoke my intraflora into some volatile movement that will catch his eye. The Wselfwulfs and Stormrows cannot know about this recent development.
Play the part, I remind myself as I lay my hand atop his forearm, do not let him break you.
"Good girl."
My teeth click as they snap together in restraint. Noah smiles and ushers us on.
"I can be kind, Lunaria. Not just to you, but those that matter to you. Your little fairy friends, for instance. You're all such remarkably weak creatures for having such profound power."
The Greenery comes into view, and my heart skips a beat. The hiccup does not go unnoticed.
"Considering the last time you caused such a stir, I think it best to explain the rules of the Greenery to you myself. First, and foremost, no speaking in tongues that my brothers and sisters can't understand. We don't tolerate secrets here." He slips his arm from under my hand and wraps it around my waist as he guides my ascent to the lofted greenhouse. "Second; no touching. Not the plants nor your friends. Last, obey all commands given by the guards without question."
Deval's sister, Eva, opens the door for us. Her green eyes hold little life, a fact I attribute to the ring of purple around her left eye and the swollen appearance of her nose.
"If you behave,"—Noah directs me past Eva without faltering—"and comply with all the rules, I see no reason for anyone to suffer on your behalf." His casual air makes me stiffen as we wind our way through the Greenery. His hand tugs me closer into his side as he walks me confidently down the pathway toward my friends. "Nothing to say?"
My throat constricts. Hateful words long to burst off my tongue as my temper wages war to get the best of me.
"Gran says, 'If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.'" I should have heeded her advice days ago to avoid the confrontations that resulted from my backtalk. I can't afford another slip.
"Gran?" Noah pauses briefly, his forehead wrinkling minutely before smirking. "The old hag that leads the witches?" His smirk broadens at my reddening. "I'd be pleased to see you take her advice from now on. I like you compliant."
The end of the path is up ahead. I exhale the breath I've been holding as I spot Alekos and Celosia sitting on the ground. They're surrounded by pillows and blankets, and their previous chains are nowhere in sight.
"When this is all over, we'll find a better place for you and your friends. Perhaps once that oaf of yours is gone, I'll give you the cabin."
My head snaps in Noah's direction.
He must anticipate my reaction, for he doesn't hesitate to grab my face and force a kiss upon me. My outrage is muffled, and so my hands take up the task of clawing at his arms and face. Noah jerks back with a hiss as my nails sink into his broad chin.
"Remember: behave." His half-snarled command is issued after he captures my wrists. His grip is set to strangle. A muted cry awaits release at the tip of my tongue, but I resist. I will not allow him the pleasure of my pain. I grind my teeth and endure the stinging numbness from the loss of circulation and the painful shifting of my bones. "Or else your friends will pay the price," he adds softly.
I bob my head. Noah lets go, shoving me back into a tangle of branches that poke my back. He runs a hand through his hair and levels me with a stern glare.
I watch his retreat with a scowl and remove myself from the branches. Eva spies on me from afar. Though her mouth is set to a thin line, her expression hints at sympathy. I look away from the slender Indian woman, and over to my friends who sport matching frowns.
"You're free," I comment as I walk over to them, rubbing the circulation back into my hands and wrists.
"Not exactly," Celosia corrects, gesturing to her collar. "But being out of the shackles is nice. You look... different."
I lower myself to the ground near them. "Do I?"
Alekos angles toward me. Under his abject scrutiny, I begin to color. With great care, I rotate my hand to allow them a glimpse of my sprouted intraflora. They immediately still.
"You're—" Alekos's mouth shuts, and he ducks his head. "How?" he breathes.
I almost don't hear the desperate question and flush when it sinks in. I bow my head as well and beg the blossom to enlarge. The effort is more than I expect, but with a quiver, it does so. I peer back at them through lowered lashes, a small pant on my lips. They wear matching expressions of sad envy.
As much as I long to tell them my theories, and how I believe they are linked to my awakening and entwining with Adrian, I don't speak a word. Now is not the time to reveal the emotional bond I share with Adrian. We are too watched here.
Celosia pulls her legs to her chest. With a forlorn air about her, she runs her hands over skin that under different circumstances would emit a shimmering glow. Alekos's regret is tangible as he gazes at the poor condition of his unique makeup of flesh, bark, and moss. The woody patches on his joints are dry and brittle. His mossy highlights are dull, and his skin lacks its usual healthy luster. The collars' effects on their supernatural appearance is jarring.
"Why did Noah kiss you?" Celosia's mouth pinches together, her calico eyes staring at me with mild accusation.
"It's not what it looked like." My entire body stiffens. "He wishes to assert his dominance... and I’ve been informed that it is in both of your best interests that I comply." The implication of my words is understood in an instant.
Alekos's scowls and responds. "He can be very creative in that respect." Celosia makes a noise of agreement, her gaze going distant. I clear my throat and finger the tasseled ends of the blanket I sit upon.
"These are new."
Alekos heaves a sigh and nods, attempting to shift his attitude into something pleasant. "A reward for our most recent cooperation." A tightness takes hold of my muscles, when Noah's ramblings come to the forefront of my might.
The tests on your friends...
"What did they do to you?" I whisper. Alekos and Celosia look to one another, mutual remorse is painted over their features. I should have paid closer attention to Noah. "Please, tell me."
"They took our blood," Celosia's tone conveys her mild confusion over the matter. "Yesterday and late the day before. They didn't tell us why, and they used the strangest instruments to do so."
Alekos hums in agreement. "When we came back yesterday, the chains were gone, and the pillows and blankets were in their place. We can make a comfortable mound to sleep on now, but we like to keep them spread out during the day."
"They are very soft and of decent variety," Celosia agrees begrudgingly. "Hopefully, we don't have to give any more blood today. I'm quite tired. They haven't taken your blood, Luna, have they?"
"No."
"What of your other friends? How do they fare?" she asks politely, though I can see how it tasks her to be upbeat.
"Their treatment has been more physically taxing than mine, I'm afraid, but they remain a source of comfort to me." I avert my eyes momentarily. "They encourage me when I cannot summon the spirit to do so myself." Celosia reaches for me, but a distinct cough sounds from afar. Her hand halts and winds back around her scrunched legs.
"I'm sorry to hear that, Luna. What of the rokama?" Celosia inquires.
My eyebrows shoot upward. "Why do you ask?"
Alekos cocks his head to the side. "He protected us for many months when we first arrived. He fought for us and took our beatings, but after he broke my collar—"
"What?"
The pair look anxiously over my shoulder to whichever guard spies on us. Celosia is rigid. Her eyes darting apprehensively between Alekos and the guard. Footsteps sound from behind, and seconds later, Eva crouches down beside me.
"Tell her what happened," she says. I eye her with caution, leaning to the side to permit her room. Eva is deceptively calm as she waits for Alekos or Celosia to reply.
"They hacked off his wings," Celosia answers, eyes blazing as she stares down Eva. "Right in front of us. It was despicable." She swallows thickly. "Afterward, they gave us bandages and ointments to treat him. They said it was the least we could do to thank him for taking our punishment."
Eva stands, knees cracking. "And now his wings are on display in Noah's private study. You want yours to be the next pair to join his? No? Then I suggest you get in line." Her green eyes sweep over us. All traces of emotion leave her voice. "Your wings are all so different. Who knows which will snare the alpha's eye next."
We say nothing as she strides away, but our eyes size up each other's wings with trepidation.
Celosia's wings stem below her shoulder blades, three to each side. Each one is long, thin, and perfectly silky. The veinlets that track across them glitter in the light and add to their charm. Alekos's wings could very well be mistaken for a tree's leaves. They are broad and heart-shaped with serrated edges that cut through the wind faster than any other fairy—not to mention their evergreen color.
"He really broke your...?"
Disbelief and desire mingle together in my faded question as I train my regard on Alekos. He toys with the pillow near his feet. Several seconds pass by before his chin dips in acknowledgment.
"After they took Adrian's wings, they gave him a new collar, Luna," Celosia says as my lips part in wonder of the possibilities. "One that is stronger than our own. They gave Alekos, Adrian's old one as a reminder of his offense. We haven't seen the rokama in weeks, unless you count the day he retrieved you."
"You haven't?"
She shakes her head. "They kept us separated after the incident."
"And he really protected you in the beginning?"
"Yes," Alekos answers, his voice stricken with guilt. "We judged him far too harshly at the start but came to learn a great deal about him and his kind. He is a just warrior. I regret what happened after our escape attempt. His wings were... extraordinary."
Thoughts of Adrian's blood-stained shirt from days ago comes to mind, and the wrappings around his chest. He clearly never healed from his punishment.
Celosia sighs and places her forehead on her knees. "He did so much to keep us safe and—"
"Attention fairies!" A masculine voice shouts. "Your services are required. Stand and prepare to earn your keep."
I rush to stand with Alekos and Celosia.
The hair at my nape comes to attention as heavy footsteps approach and multiple sets at that. Eva peers down the pathway as well. By her chaffed expression, she is not a fan of whoever makes their way toward us.
I recognize the man who heads the group of five at once. He is the young sorcerer from last night's dinner. The one who was far too eager to please Mr. Bowers. Behind him are four men, all in matching black and red cloaks.
"Take the girl," Mr. Bowers commands, standing several feet away from us. The men under his charge stride forward. I stiffen, unable to tear my eyes from their blank expressions.
"Wait!" I beg, hands held up defensively as I stumble backward. The men pay me no mind and forge past me to Celosia. I turn to watch, as she pulls back into a defensive stance. Her upper lip curls in warning, but her eyes fill with fright.
"No, take me!" Alekos darts in front of Celosia, but he's reprimanded without hesitation.
His collar flares with white light, and Alekos falls to his knees. His strangled scream makes me freeze in horror as his face contorts and constricts in pain.
"No!" Celosia's panic coats her voice. "Stop, please!” They continue their advance. “You said I didn't have to! You said you had enough!"
"Plans have changed. If you don't come willingly, it will only hurt worse," Mr. Bowers says. I flinch from the nearness of his voice, and half turn to face him.
"What are you doing?" I ask breathlessly.
"My job," he deadpans. "I suggest you stay out of our way, or you'll end up like your friend." Two of the lackeys grab Celosia by the upper arms and drag her forward. She valiantly resists them.
"You promised!"
The guards do not relent, and Celosia's face transforms into raw anger. The manifestation brings a shiver up my spine. An illuminator's temper is well-known throughout the Hollow Woods, and not something to be trifled with.
Red patches dot the apples of her cheeks as Celosia tosses her body back and fights harder. The sorcerers who manhandle her grunt and stumble, while the others stand sentry near Alekos's convulsing form.
"Stop it! You're hurting them!" I shout.
"Welcome to The Farm," Mr. Bowers chuckles darkly. "Where otherworldly creatures earn their keep with blood."
I move to dart after Celosia, but Mr. Bowers stands in my way. He mirrors each pivot and lunge I take, blocking me.
"You can't do this. Leave them alone!"
"We most certainly can, and we will." His blatant examination of my form fills me with loathing and disgust as he invades my personal space. "The best part about it all? There isn't a thing you can do about it, unless, that is, you want your friends' wings clipped?"
My jaw clenches. He smirks.
"That's what I thought," Mr. Bowers croons.
Celosia's feet kick at her captor's legs, and her teeth snap when they get pulled in too near. There is no holding back my rage, when the sputtered choking of Alekos rings in my ears.
I cannot abide by this treatment of my friends, and if they risk fighting for each other, knowing the consequences, then so must I.
With a guttural holler, I shove my hands into the sorcerer's chest and watch him trip backward. He yelps as his butt hits the ground, and I launch myself at him. I'm snagged mid-air by an unfamiliar arm around my waist. It spins me around and tosses me into the potted plants lining the little alcove.
"You bitch!" Mr. Bowers fumes as he fumbles to stand. "How dare you put your hands on me. I'll—"
He grabs something from inside his cloak—a stick—and thrusts it into the air above his head. A shower of red sparks appears, and ominous gray smoke spouts from the stick's end.
Not a stick, a wand. An instrument of their seedy magic.
More frightening is the black veins that appear on the skin underneath his eyes and the inhumane speed with which his lips move without making a sound. I shudder an exhalation.
"That's enough!" Eva says sharply.
She bars the way for Celosia and the two sorcerers, arms crossed over her chest and eyes gleaming with gold. "The alpha said to let them be. He wishes to show them his benevolence. You will cease this treatment immediately."
Mr. Bowers goes rigid, but the magic pooling above him does not abate. "We have our orders—"
"As do I, and last I checked the alpha's order trumps your science experiments. You’ve gotten to have your fun harassing them, now go."
The sorcerer twists and levels his wand at Eva. The malevolent energy whirls hazardously at its point. "Ah yes, the alpha's order does 'trump,' as you so eloquently put it. However, it begs the question—which alpha trumps? Carrie or Noah?" Eva's brown skin darkens as the young Mr. Bowers prowls toward her. "Do tell. I'm sure they would both love to know who their wolves look to for guidance."
Eva says nothing. Her lips flatten, and she shifts uncomfortably as Mr. Bowers continues his advance. The gold in her eyes does not fade, but it is clear both Eva and her wolf have underestimated the group of men.
"Just as I thought." He scoffs. "Take her away and leave the boy."
Celosia cries out weakly, her exhaustion winning out. Her gaze finds mine over her shoulder. I shove myself away from the sharp pieces of the broken pots. I can't get to my feet fast enough to pursue, and even if I could, I doubt I'd get far. Mr. Bowers returns his menacing glower to me.
"As for the other..." he mutters.
My intraflora itches with the need to strike out in some way, but what good would it do? What good could it do? My intraflora fell short in the forest with Noah, and it required too much energy, not minutes ago, to produce a simple flower in full bloom.
Even if I could use it to attack, to reveal the resilience of my powers will do more harm than good.
