by CY Jones
“And go where? We’re trapped and it’s not just me he can ruin.”
“In that case, his proposal doesn’t seem that unreasonable. I thought you liked Sabre’s Master.”
“It doesn’t matter if I did or didn’t. Agreeing now is taking one step forward into letting Morganstein take control of my life.”
“Then agree now and buy time to fight another day.”
As if he heard Archer’s words, Morganstein states out loud, “Once you agree, we’ll hold the ceremony here. With a Council member present, you won’t be able to break off the engagement.”
All I see is red. Closing my eyes, I try to put a clamp on the bubbling power inside of me. It hurts. The power. Inside, it rages freely without a master. But without an outlet, it’s blocked, which makes the pain even more intense. Violent like I’m destroying myself from the inside out. Voices holler to be heard, but all I can make out is the buzzing sound of white noise. “Blood, blood everywhere, but no one listens, no one cares,” I cry, holding my hands to cover my ears when I’ve had enough. Just let me die here and now and the pain will go away. Suddenly, the angelic sound of a flute pierces through the buzzing sound, lighting a pathway of escape from the power that seized control of my body. Like a butterfly, I flutter along following the sound as it leads me away from the chaotic pressure of my own doing until I’m free again. Opening my eyes, my gaze clashes with a set of silver mirrors. In a painting, they would be a beautiful sight one would pay millions to see, but still nowhere close to the real thing no matter how talented the artist.
Ruelle. Held to his mouth is a flute made of white jade that he plays magnificently with nimble fingers. Who would have thought he’d be my savor?
Embarrassed, I take a couple of steps back, distancing myself from him, but his honey scent still follows as well as the echo of his flute.
“Are you okay?” Zion asks concerned before shaking off his father’s hold on his arm. What’s his deal? Why did he prevent Zion from helping me? Why was it Ruelle? And where did he get that flute from? I never heard anything like it. This is the first time I’ve ever seen a magical item up close.
“I’m fine,” I croak. “Just overwhelmed.”
“I’m sure you’re still recovering from your injuries. We should hurry and continue so you can go back to your dorm and rest,” Morganstein comments and just like that, the pressure is on me again, but this time, I don’t let it get to me.
“Fine,” I reluctantly concede, which makes Morganstein downright joyful.
With a snap of his fingers, my clothes disappear and in their place is a formal gown made from an expensive, silky material dyed a dark purple. Not only did my clothes change but my hair is styled anew held together with expensive combs. Circled around my neck are jeweled birds flying between tiny diamond stars and on the bottom of my dress are even more birds, lifting off in the air. I can’t deny the dress is beautiful, but doesn’t he think it’s a bit much for some stupid ceremony out in the woods. To the left of me, Zion has changed into an all black fitted suit. Attached to his bright red tie is a tie clip of a red and orange jeweled phoenix.
“Was changing our clothes necessary?” I gripe.
“A mating ceremony is serious business and should be treated accordingly,” Morganstein answers. “Besides, I wouldn’t want Hawthorne to treat this arrangement as he did the last one.” His voice holds a clear threat, one Zion’s father doesn’t miss.
“I wouldn’t dream of offending, my Lord. The agreement with the Bishops was all verbal, nothing as serious of this.”
What a bunch of bull? I’m sure if Morganstein would not have offered me up like a prized turkey, he’d still have his heart set on mating Zion off to Violet.
“Let’s start, shall we?” Council member Frostfire says out loud.
Not knowing what to do or what a mating ceremony consists of, I allow Zion to take my hand and lead me to the middle of the clearing. Like they know something important was about to happen, I don’t see a single bird or hear a single insect. The only sound I can pick out is the sound of my own beating heart. I’m still furious. He didn’t look too surprised about the news. How long did he know about this? Why didn’t he tell me beforehand? Did he really just learn today as well? So many questions. I’m starting to hate questions since that’s all I seem to find since coming to this academy.
Pulling his hood down from his robe, I get a clear view of Council member Frostfire’s face as he hands Zion a wicked looking jeweled dagger. His eyes, a clear blue like ice appear serious, his face pale with a few age spots. Before us, he stands proud and somewhat intimidating. A clear official here to do his job.
“Son of Hawthorne from the phoenix clan, do you accept Angelica Morganstein as your Goddess given mate now and forever?”
“I do,” Zion agrees without any hesitation.
“Do you promise to protect her and take her burdens as your own? Her fate is now your fate. The bonds of time tightly knotted together by magic from now until the after life. Do you accept this fate, accept her as your one and only?”
“I accept.”
Me… His voice is so clear, so sure while I’m still shellshocked. No one told me a mating ceremony involves agreeing to all this.
“Daughter of Morganstein from the dark phoenix clan. Do you accept Zion Hawthorne as your goddess given mate now and forever?”
“Hold up. Dark Phoenix?” I blurt out loud. Wide-eyed and confused. No wonder there’s flying birds on my dress and jewelry. I thought Morganstein was paying homage to Zion’s family crest. Symbolism is key with mages. Just like the phoenix on Zion’s tie clip. I want to slap my forehead. I’m so dumb. Just like harlequins have a chosen card, I should have realized sooner that being accepted in the Morganstein family would mean I’d have a different family crest, but did it have to be so similar to Zion’s?
“Answer the question. Our family history is not important right now,” Morganstein comments, interrupting my wayward thoughts.
“I accept,” I mumble, still lost in thought.
“Do you promise to protect him and take his burdens as your own? His fate is now your fate. The bonds of time tightly knotted together by magic from now until the after life. Do you accept this fate, accept him as your one and only?”
Shit, that’s asking a lot. Zion and I are like two rivals just now trying to figure each other out. We know literally nothing about each other so how could I agree to all this? But just like he did, I put aside all my doubts and answer in a clear voice, “I accept.”
“Clan Morganstein, Clan Hawthorne, as the Council bears witness and the authority given by the Goddess, this mating is final. Even with death, this binding cannot be broken or torn apart. Their fates have been entwined as one now and forever. May the Goddess bless their nuptials, and they bear the fruits of a strong heir, two birds together in eternal flight.”
When he’s finished, Zion slices his palm with the dagger and then mine. I hiss from the pain, but that’s the only sound I make before he presses our palms together, mixing our blood. A rush of power explodes, creating a ring of fire around us. Shadows of two birds fly straight up in the air as they circle each other, squawking a joyful cry. It’s quite the sight, but I don’t find any joy in it. As fast as the flames came, they disappear like they were never there. Even the grass underneath our feet isn’t scorched.
“A Goddess blessed mating. I haven’t seen one of those in a long time. But what more could you ask from a mating between two phoenix mages?” Council member Frostfire rejoices.
“There haven't been two phoenixes born around the same time in many centuries, especially from the dark phoenix clan,” Zion’s dad explains.
So is that the reason why he agreed? To see some phenomenon? And since when was I a phoenix? Whatever, this is a little much for me. Information overload. If I don’t get away soon, my motherboard is about to crash.
“Can I go now?” I whine.
“Tomorrow I’ll have Ruelle fetch you so we c
an discuss business. With Founder’s Day coming up next month, I plan on staying until after all the festivities are over.”
Fetch me? Am I a damn dog now? “Exactly what business do we need to discuss?”
“The ceremony you just had was one of a private manner, but do you think as an influential family, I’d leave it at that? You’ll have another one where your school and some elite guests will be invited to witness such a historic occasion.”
My mouth hangs open, wide enough for a bee to fly in and sting me to death. At least in private, I can pretend that this ceremony never happened, but now, he wants to broadcast it in front of everyone. If that happens, the other heirs will find out and will probably hate me. I was never supposed to choose between them. That’s the deal I made with myself, but with Morganstein forcing my hand, it happened anyway. This trap keeps getting smaller and smaller. Without another word, I stomp my way out the clearing toward the school. I need alcohol strong enough for me to forget this whole day happened, and I know just where to get it.
Chapter 17
Angelica
“Oberon, open up. I know you’re in there,” I shout, banging on my brother’s dorm room door. On my way here, I got a lot of curious looks due to my state of dress, but finding the flighty fairy king was more important than changing. I don’t have Morganstein’s gift where I can change my clothes with a snap of my fingers. At least I don’t think I do.
“Why are you shouting that name?” he growls, opening the door shirtless with messy hair and bloodshot eyes.
“Why don’t you ever have any clothes on?” I counter, shoving my way into his room. On Quinn’s bed is a shirtless Puck and a semi-naked female with bright orange hair. With a long sigh, I quickly look away from the shit show I interrupted before I see something that’ll traumatize me for life.
“Why are you so overdressed? Are you going to a party I don’t know about? I didn’t hear of any. My spies on the dark campus usually keep me well informed.”
“Party, ha. More like my funeral,” I mutter.
“What does that mean? What happened? I heard your father is here. Did he do something to you?”
“Wow! Aren’t you quick to change your tune? Nearly whiplash worthy. You don’t need to worry about me. I can see I bothered you at the wrong time. I only came here for a few bottles of your fairy wine.”
Frowning, his eyes flick from the now topless chick on the bed then back to me. His expression doesn’t change, making it hard to register what he’s thinking. I already knew Oberon was a playboy. Chasing tail is just who he is. Rarely, he’s seen without a beautiful female next to him, so why should he care if I caught him in the act? He owes me nothing. Not even an explanation. Turning away, he walks over to the closet pulling out two bottles full of wine and hands it to me.
“If you’re going to be alone, I don’t recommend drinking more than half a bottle. Who knows what will happen,” he warns.
“As long as I can forget today, that’s all that matters.” His face looks even more worried, but I don’t give him a chance to ask me anything further when I turn to leave. “Thanks for the booze,” I reply, but I’m not fast enough when he grabs my arm.
“I can go back with you, if you like. No need for you to drink alone.” He sounds sincere, but I rather not be around any males right now. Right now, they’re all the enemy. A bunch of scheming assholes.
“No need,” I say, shaking off his hand.
With a smart aleck salute, I leave him to his fun, looking for a private spot to have fun of my own.
I can’t say the place I find is perfect, but it is empty. Next to the school’s gymnasium is an indoor Olympic size pool. As I enter, a strong scent of chlorine assaults my nostrils, but it’s all forgotten when I crack open the first bottle of wine, the fruity scent overwhelming the stench of the pool, and I take a deep gulp straight from the bottle. With its potency, I’m already halfway drunk by the time I get to the nearest lounge chair and flop down unceremoniously, making the purple and black tulle of my fancy dress poof around me. Morganstein even created glass slippers with tiny birds carved delicately onto the glass. Just the thought of him hunched over doing the work himself makes me laugh and I start to giggle uncontrollably, taking another swig of the potent goodness in my hand. Kicking the heels off, one lands on the edge of the pool while the other is not so fortunate and, with a low splash, lands in the water.
“Naughty shoe. You weren’t supposed to go for a swim,” I giggle, wagging my finger at the wayward heel.
Sitting there singing to myself, I down a little more than half the bottle of wine. “Stupid king, thinking I can’t hold my liquor. Look at me. I’ve already drunk more than he cautioned, and I’m doing just fine.” I hiccup a wine bubble and then crack up at such a sight. To be that bubble. To have the freedom to float around and then pop out of sight on its own terms.
“Maybe you should slow down,” Archers suggests. Covering my ears, I shake my head wildly like a child.
“Go away, party pooper. No men allowed.”
“I’m a spirit, not a man.”
“Even still. Go away,”
“I will not leave you in this state. What if someone attacks you?”
“Let them come. I’ll vanquish them all,” I cry out loud, jumping to my feet and then stumble sideways until a pair of strong arms steady me. I’m too drunk to be embarrassed, nor am I thinking straight, so I repeat, “Go away,” as I stare straight into Archer’s golden gaze.
“No,” he refuses, which pisses me off.
“What is with all you males pissing me the fuck off? Go, shoo, shoo,” I motion, flapping my hand before stumbling back over to the lounge chair and grabbing the bottle I dropped, thankful not all of the contents spilled out. I doubt Oberon will give me another bottle if I visit him a second time, nor do I want to be a witness to that fuck fest in his room. Tilting my head back, I drink what’s left in one go. When I’m done, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, narrowing my gaze on Archer, furious that he’s still standing there.
“Not listening to your Master now? I said go. How dare you ignore my wishes. Who’s the Master here? You or me?” I don’t give him a chance to answer before I continue with my drunken rant. “I am, you got that? I’m the Master. Ma-master of my own fate.” My words are garbled. Who knows if I’m making any sense, but I keep talking, until I say something I can’t take back. “I command you to leave,” I holler, activating one of my three command seals.
“Angelica,” he cries out, outraged or maybe that’s disappointment I hear, but even he doesn’t have the power to ignore a command seal and he disappears out of sight.
I’m sure tomorrow I’ll feel awful about doing that to him and slap myself for wasting a command seal, but right now, I’m in pure bliss over getting my way, unworried about everything and anything. In here with my bottle of fairy wine, the world around me has been put on pause. In here my problems don’t exist. Mates don’t exist. Psychotic conniving fathers who show up out of nowhere to rule over my life don’t exist. Here, I’m free. A beast temporarily released from its cage.
Amused with my own drunken analogy, I hum a cheerful song. Liking the way it echoes off the walls, I put more passion behind the melody, even going as far as singing some lyrics. The music takes on more of a traumatic melody, uprising, and I lift my limbs to its sound. Trapped under its spell, I dance to the song’s beat, twirling around in circles like I used to do when I was small, playing by myself in a field full of bright beautiful flowers. Gathered in a reef on top of my head like a crown are those same flowers, and I laugh breathing in their sweet scent. There’s no other feeling like the one I had at those times. By myself, with no one to watch or judge me. A little girl clinging to the enjoyment of a clear summer’s day. Lost to the memory, I can feel the heat of the sun on my skin, warming me in a delightful way. The sweet fragrance of the flowers like honey drifts in my nose, and I breathe in deeply. Opening my eyes, the pool has disappeared, and I’m outside in my
special place. The sky is so blue. Clear without a single cloud in sight. When did I come here? I can’t remember, but who cares now that I’m here.
Twirling some more, the purple and black tulle circles around me and I hold my hands out to my sides to prevent myself from falling. Round and round and round I go. The air hitting my face, the dizziness, it’s refreshing and exhilarating. The soft silk ribbon gathering the flowers on top of my head dangles in my face, tickling my nose, and I laugh a laugh that sounds like wind chimes. When was the last time I could be so carefree?
Following the flowered path, I hum louder until I get to a lone apple tree. All the fruit that has fallen to the ground is bruised or rotten, so I hike up my dress and climb barefooted up the rough bark. Hanging from a couple limbs above my head is a red apple, glistening like a ruby star in the sunlight. Going further up, I stretch my arm out as far as they’ll go, but it’s not quite far enough, and I barely brush the apple with the tip of my finger. Moving closer, I’m on the very edge of the branch of the tree limb right where it’s the thinnest, again stretching my body as far as I can when suddenly like a teapot, I tip over too far. Flinging my hands out, hoping to catch hold of another branch, all I get is air and I continue to fall.
I thought the tree I climbed wasn’t that high. Compared to the ones I used to play on this was nothing, but the fall is long and it goes on forever. In my drunken state, my body fails to listen to me, and I can’t twist my limbs, so that when I do land, I’ll land on my feet. As I fall, the air around me is like a lullaby, lulling me in a false sense of security. The fall no longer matters nor does the height. Back arched, both hands and legs in the air, I land with a splash, sinking deeper and deeper in the abyss. How land turned to water, I do not know, but as I sink, I find that nothing matters anymore.
