Mythical (The Mystical Series Book 2)

by Michael Weekly

  “What the hell? How is that glowing?”

  “I have no clue. I brush my hands against the bark and it glows.”

  “That isn’t normal, Rose.”

  I remove my palm, staring up at him as he walks in closer.

  “Look, do you want to end this game and get out of this place? Do you want to go back home or not?” He lifts up my hand and holds it, his eyes searching my face. “Will you come with me if we end this?”

  “Donovan, you know what I’m here for.” I try to jerk my hand away, but he won’t let go. He pulls me in against his chest and I resist. “I don’t think this is the time to hug.”

  “I’m not trying to hug you.” His silver markings are glowing and so are mine, only they’re sizzling; it’s like we’re being glued together. The feeling fades away as we part. I press my cheek on his hardened chest and the end of his chin is on my head.

  There’s silence in the forest, and I’ve lost track of Emily. This strange interaction and incomplete connection we keep trying to build is inevitable. He’s always saving me; he’s always here. What if Donovan is gone, how will I cope, and will I ever be complete without him here? I know I can handle things on my own. There’s no hesitation in killing a mystic that intends harm toward me. Donovan happens to always come running right when I’m about to kill one on my own. I’m glad we’re stuck together like this, so he can’t read my face as these thoughts race in my head.

  A vibration buzzes within our grasp, like the sound of a firecracker exploding.

  “Fine,” he sighs as we part. “I don’t know what happened, and I don’t care. Let’s go.”

  “Don’t freak out,” I say, placing my palm on the bark again. He steps back a bit, seeing the color rise. “Don’t say anything. Let the forest speak to you.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Shut up and listen.” I wave my free hand at him. Emily isn’t running, but within the slightest sound hidden in the many natural noises I hear her exhale. I drop my hand, breaking the connection with the tree.

  “I’ll go this way.” I gesture to my left. “You go that way.” I nod my head to the direction in front of us. Donovan’s looking at me, puzzled again. “I know it’s weird. I can’t explain. Just do it.

  “I’ll meet you around and see what happens,” I say, walking to my left.

  “Hey.” He grabs my arm, pulling back in front of him. “You might need this. I forgot to give it back when we were in that forbidden forest.” He hands me my broomstick.

  “Thanks.”

  “How will I know where you are if we get lost?”

  “You shouldn’t have a problem with that. You always end up finding me anyway.”

  Donovan lifts up his thumb, wishing me good luck. He clicks on his broomstick and cuts the plants out of his way.

  The freezing sensation brushes under my right arm again, and the light vibration is soothing. I splay out my fingers, then clench them back into a fist. The birds around me become silent, and the squirrels are still. I hear a slight crackle of twigs on the ground crunch behind me.

  I know where Emily is.

  ***

  I jab my left elbow behind me and miss. Emily easily dodges my attack and throws a punch, aiming toward my face.

  Instinct, Liza, my mother snaps in my head.

  I tilt my neck to the side, glaring at my opponent. Emily spins around, swinging her right leg to kick me. I grab her ankle, but before I can throw her away from me her left leg plows into my neck, smashing me against a tree. She executed a perfect aerial.

  Emily darts toward me, twirls around, and prepares to smash the side of her elbow into my neck. I block her arm, slithering underneath her and twisting her wrist. A loud crack erupts, and she curses.

  I smirk, but that’s a bad thing to do, because Emily slams my chest into the tree in front of us.

  “You’ll lose,” she says. “Always acting cocky.”

  “How’s that wrist?” I taunt, spitting dirt from my mouth.

  Donovan appears behind her, and as soon as I dart my eyes away from her face, she knows he’s here. He sprints toward Emily, grabbing her neck, but she’s too quick. She wraps her slim hands around his thick arms, slamming him down against me with a grunt.

  “Get her before she runs,” I say dryly.

  ***

  Donovan whirls around, and I dash to the side, both of us blocking Emily from running away. Emily stands still, panting from the little fight we had, holding onto her wrist.

  “So it’s like that, huh? You’re ganging up on little ole me?” she whimpers with fake panic.

  “Cut the crap. It’s over, Emily. We win.”

  “Not yet.” Emily grins, grabs hold of a tree limb, and leaps up, landing on a long branch. Her hazel green eyes glare down at us as she proceeds to run above, jumping on scattered branches before her.

  “I get what you mean now about elves in the forest,” I murmur to Donovan.

  “We lost, Rose,” he says. “There’s no way you can catch her up there.”

  Christian said not to chase after her once she climbed a tree. I place my palm on the bark before me; it glows. I look down at my leafy tattoos. I want to get Emily and end her silly game. If my reflexes could have been a bit more responsive when we fought, the game would have been done by now.

  I dig my fingernails into the wood, gripping a hold on the bark.

  “Rose, don’t,” Donovan warns me.

  “We have to get her. We need to win this.”

  “We always have next time. You’re insane to go after her.”

  I start to climb up the tree. Donovan grips my waist, pulling me off of the tree. He is extremely close to me, pressing his hands against my waist.

  “Let me go.”

  “Or what?”

  This reminds me of the time we first met, the time he violated me. Anger flows through me, readying itself to lash out any minute.

  “Donovan, I said to let—”

  He presses his muscles against my body, leaning over me with his hands grasping tighter around my waist. His fingers travel down, cupping my butt. “Are you going to do anything?” he says.

  “Don’t think I will?”

  “The cat fight with Emily earlier, that was hot,” he chuckles. He acts like his brother, but I don’t want him running through my mind either.

  He pulls on my shirt, snapping the elastic on my stomach. That is it; I snap out of my daze, exhaling an unpleasant sound. I wrap my arms around his muscular neck, forcing him to bend over in front of me. I knee him in the stomach, but before I can slap him like I plan, he takes my wrist and laughs, throwing me onto the ground and landing on top of me.

  “Jerk! Let me go.”

  “Do you agree not to chase after the elf, dumb ass?”

  “Whatever! Get off of me.” I wrestle with him. Donovan is obviously stronger than me, and with each attempt at attacking him, he only forces me against the dirt harder.

  He lets go of his grip around my wrists as I kick him off of me. I run toward the tree that Emily climbed up on. I can see myself catching her and dragging her limp body back to the front of the forest, receiving praise from her cocky elf friends.

  As I reach the tree, Donovan grabs me again, twirling me around into his thick, warm chest, arms gripped around my body.

  Rough scruff tickles the corner of my lips and neck; soft skin tugs my bottom lip lightly. Air is sucked out of my mouth. My heart beat slows down its pace. I open my eyes.

  We kiss.

  Chapter 7

  Our lips brush against one another’s softly. Donovan’s lips feel like the cotton in a pillow and taste like vanilla ice cream. I’ve never kissed a male before, and this whole time I thought the male species was complete jerks and weirdos. This is my first kiss, and I can’t imagine ever explaining how I feel. It is nothing close to my dreams. It is exhilarating, and kissing him is irrevocably addictive.

  Donovan crashes his mouth against my skin, entwines his fingers with mine.
I wrap my arms around his neck as he forces me against the tree.

  I’m filled with excitement as his wet lips trail my skin. I want him to stop. I want him to continue.

  I don’t know what I want.

  His lips travel up the side of my neck. “Give me that kiss again,” he whispers into my ear, biting on the lobe.

  He’s hovering over me; my hands are clasped tightly against the tree. The kiss intensifies, and Donovan works his way past my collarbone.

  The silver tattoos from behind his neck glow in the darkness. Searing pain burns my right arm, and I can practically feel my veins jump under my skin. I must have inadvertently bit Donovan’s bottom lip hard, because he jerks back, rubbing his mouth.

  “What the hell!”

  “My arm—it’s burning.” Rubbing my markings only worsens it. I flip my elbow up to show him.

  Donovan grabs my arm and stares, then looks at me. “Your transformation…it’s done.”

  “What?”

  “Rose, you’re getting more witch markings.” He cocks his head to the side, showing his silvery tattoos glowing. “What triggered it?”

  His gaze meets mine, and I think we know the answer to that. We’re both glowing in the middle of the now-dark forest. I survey the area around us then glare at him. I slap his face.

  “That’s for kissing me.”

  Donovan doesn’t even flinch. “You liked it.” He grins cockily. “Remember how you liked the first time we met? How else was I going to stop you from chasing Emily? You would’ve fallen and died. I think it was the perfect decision.”

  “You might suck ass at kissing, but yeah, I think it was smart.”

  I jerk my hand out of his grip to slap this jackass again. He grabs my wrist to stop me, so I raise my left arm to slap him.

  The impact causes searing pain to travel underneath my skin and up to my shoulder. It feels like broken glass scratching on top of my skin and working its way up to the side of my neck. I gasp, feeling like I’m going to fall.

  Donovan wraps his arms around me, blocking the fall.

  “Get the hell off of me.”

  “If you let me help you, it won’t hurt as much.”

  Brushing my shoulders by him, I hold onto my burning arm and carefully retrace my steps out of this wretched forest. The pain doesn’t stop like I hoped; it becomes worse.

  “There you go ignoring me and being stubborn again. I know how to make the pain stop.”

  My vision blurs and my legs weaken; the muscles in my body stop working. I fall, landing on the dirt, overtaken by a fit of shaking. It stops after a moment, and I try to move my leg. I can’t because I’m paralyzed.

  ***

  “Eliza!” someone yells out. “Don’t go to sleep. Stay awake, okay?”

  Someone touches the skin on the side of my cheek, and the scent of mint wafts into my nostrils, running inside through my body and finding its way to my left arm, tickling the burning areas.

  My heart feels like I’m going down a steep rollercoaster as it increases its speed. The cold wind punches against my face, and I throw my arms in the air as the rolling cart races down to my death. It feels like I’m dying in this forest, but none of it is real.

  I can’t fight the sleep that’s being forced upon me.

  “Eliza, please stay awake for me. Give me another minute, sweetheart.”

  “Okay,” I whisper.

  I blink, trying to clear out the image that’s hovering above me. Peaceful feelings and relief runs through me, and the rollercoaster ride comes to a stop.

  “See that wasn’t too bad, right? How did you enjoy the ride?”

  “Donovan?” I see glowing green eyes and chocolate brown hair swaying in the darkness. I still don’t know how I can see clearly at night. I rub my eyes.

  ***

  “What happened in the forest?”

  “I’m telling you this for the fifth damn time. We fought, and I ran away. I didn’t do a thing.”

  “Talk to the witch about this. I have nothing to do with it.”

  “She could’ve died, Emily.”

  “That’s her fault, Christian. Let go of me!”

  “Why are you acting like this?”

  “She’s a witch. Maybe you’ve forgotten what they do to people like us.”

  I open my eyes when the door shuts in my room. Christian and Emily are here arguing about something, though I can’t pick up the whole conversation. A tear slides down my cheek. You know when you’re so overwhelmed you can’t take anymore? I’m feeling like that. The person who saved me wasn’t Donovan; it was Christian. I knew for sure he was there because the same mint scent that’s always around him was all around the forest. I don’t trust Christian at all, and I still need to get to the bottom of the treehouse event.

  Where is Donovan?

  “I can feel your emotions.”

  I toss the sheets from my face to see Christian watching me.

  “Hi,” I mutter.

  “Are you all right, Eliza?”

  “I’m getting there. My arm…”

  “The pain shouldn’t be there anymore,” he says.

  “What did you do?”

  “I numbed the pain, that’s all.” He clears his throat. “Look, I don’t know what happened in the forest, but…um…” Christian’s thinking about something, something he can’t say perfectly. He’s always been so perfect and precise every time I bump into him.

  His lean body sits still perfectly postured on my bed, his dreamy forest eyes glancing down at me. “I don’t know…I feel sort of…attached to you,” he mumbles. “Like stuck. It’s weird, I know.” He’s embarrassed by it, like I saw him naked or something.

  “You tried to kill me. What do you mean you feel attached?”

  “I didn’t try to kill you.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “I brought you there because it’s a place where I feel at home. Is it wrong of me not wanting you to see how the place truly looks?” He looks over out the window. “Those guys were bullies and they followed me there.”

  “So you left me in that dump, knowing they’d come to look for you? You left me in a forest that was designed to kill witches or anyone that isn’t an elf.”

  “I left to draw them away. Why would I try to lead you to your death?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe because when they were about to kill me, they said they were waiting for you.”

  “Why would they wait for me?” He grins. “You killed them anyway.” It was then I realized it was his plan to kill the guys who messed with him. I take out my broomstick, clicking it on into a sword. His eyes grow wide, seeing that the tip of my purple sword is aimed right in the middle of his neck. I get myself up out of this bed and glance at the window. It’s still dark outside. Donovan was with me in the forest when my markings were going crazy, but he wasn’t there to save me, so what exactly happened?

  “You honestly think I’m that stupid.”

  “No, you’re actually pretty smart, Eliza.”

  “Who’s waiting outside of this room?” I flick my sword over at the entrance. “Walk, elf.” I press my blade on his neck. “Walk or this time your neck really will be sliced.”

  I know exactly what I’m doing, and I will not be played by him or Emily.

  “She’s tough, isn’t she? Emily gets angry all the time when she can’t win.”

  “Why? Because you can play with others’ minds much better than the rest of the elves here? I don’t think you’re playing the game fair.”

  “Who ever plays tag fair? I get what I want.”

  “Open the door.” He stands in front of it with his back facing me. I shove him toward the door. “Open the door, Christian.”

  “I don’t know why you think I’m out to kill you, Eliza.” He places his hand on the doorknob.

  “For the same reason all mystics are,” I answer without moving my glare from his face. I have the sudden notion that something is about to happen, and I bring my blade down to his neck.
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br />   Christian moves in time to grasp his hands around the sharp metal. There is blood sliding down on the sword and dripping to the floor. A sizzling sound from him touching my broomstick crackles.

  He snatches the sword from my grip, throwing it across the room. “Trying to fight for answers, I see.”

  “That’s the only way I’m going to get them.”

  He wipes his hands on his pants. “Now what would you like to eat?”

  How did the sword not cut him up completely? He tossed my broomstick away from me like it was nothing to him. No wonder Miss Canary favors him the most, and no wonder other elves are jealous.

  Emily didn’t even try to do these things to me. I can only imagine what fighting him would be like.

  “You must be starving. I’ll be right back.”

  He opens the door, bumping into Donovan’s thick chest. They stare at each other, the tension thick in the room.

  Donovan’s eyes dart from Christian to glare at me. Christian brushes against Donovan, forcing himself out of the room. Donovan stares at him, wanting to chase after him and snap his neck.

  “Are you okay?” I ask.

  “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

  I shrug, avoiding eye contact. I want to confront him about the kiss he forced on me, the really good kiss that caused my arm to spaz out. I flip my right arm up to see clear, light silver swirly lines; they aren’t as dark as before. The lines swirl up to the side of my shoulder, ending at the tip of my collarbone.

  I trace them with my index finger.

  “That kiss was to stop you from chasing Emily, nothing else,” he says dryly.

  “It didn’t feel like it.”

  “It was an impulsive idea,” he blurts. “Why would I kiss you?”

  “Why would you try and save me? That was, what? The fifth time? You’re constantly trying to save me, though not once ending with a kiss like that.”

  “I wasn’t saving you. I was ending the game.” He looks at the floor, noting the blood, then glances over to my broomstick. “What happened?” He rushes over to me, feeling my body to see if I’m hurt.