Chapter 10: Aleta, Ales, and Aileen
Her name was Aleta.
And she was heavenly.
Aleta had surreal but dainty features: simmering, sterling irises, raven ringlets, a pallid skin tone, which glowed with a faint glimmer, and a hazy, hesitant smile. Accompanied by her siblings, who each possessed their own ethereal qualities, who each possessed their own unique ability, who each glided closer, she ambulated forward, standing directly in the center, where, with one fluid movement, she summoned a globe of light.
It strengthened them.
Her name was Aileen.
And she was celestial.
Her features were fair; her beauty soft and subtle. She contrasted slightly with her straight, flaxen tendrils, with her wide, golden irises, which sparkled with interest, with slight dejection, with reluctant acceptance, when she observed the congregation in front of her; she flicked her wrists, sending a gentle, calming breeze in their direction.
It consoled them.
His name was Ales.
And he was ethereal.
He was sinewy; he was dark. He possessed masculine features, consisting of a square-shaped jaw, defined cheekbones, broad eyebrows, and a naturally piercing, cerulean stare. With an emphatic air, he cantered forward, waving his hands back-and-forth, summoning a thick brume, which, with the aid of the gale his sister conjured, spanned across the expanse and hovered above their heads. The scintillating radiance his sister created merged with the mist, becoming denser and brighter and lovelier.
It amazed them.
But it also frightened them.
It was unknown.
It was powerful.
It was their future.
Their names were Aleta, Aileen, and Ales.
And they were divine.
"Are all of you absolutely sure that you want to see your mates and, as an extension, the parts of your lives leading to your encounter with them?" Aleta questioned; her smile slowly but surely dissipated from her lips when the four children eagerly affirmed, when they eagerly flocked in front of the pulsating splendor, when they eagerly clasped their hands together, watching, waiting, with their hearts beating rapidly, with their eyes glistening with anticipation.
"There's a reason why your parents have never encouraged any of you to take this chance—to seek your mates and seek our advice. They have never confessed their intentions with doing so and have only ever reassured you that you would meet your mates when the time was right, but you four have decided to seek your mates. Your parents didn't want to disclose this information to you, and we don't want to be the bearers of this, but seeing as you all had the imitative to demand answers and search for your soul mates, we consented without the approval of your parents; however, they have been notified. They are actually approaching this very moment," Ales divulged before bowing his head when their parents halted directly behind their children.
"Do you have any final thoughts or objections?" Aileen questioned.
"We understand your motives. We truly do. But, there are secrets that all of you are not ready to hear. You are far too young to be involved in these matters. You will meet your mates eventually. Please, reconsider this," Adara supplicated before blanching.
"We can't wait anymore. We're the final four. Everyone else has their mates. We don't. And we want to know who they are. We want to know their names—how they look like, what they like, if they're okay, or if they have any problems. We can't go back. We can only go forward," Acacia vocalized; her voice soft but steady, calm and reassuring.
She was determined.
And the resplendence intensified.
"Then go ahead."
It was her mother.
And she looked terrified.
But the glow coaxed them.
It lured them in.
And baited them.
The final four ardently accepted their futures, their destinies, their fates.
Breathlessly, Micah—with his signature raven locks, active yet inquisitive eyes, which were an exquisite shade of azure, tan complexion, dotted solely by minuscule freckles, enhanced by dimples, which currently adorned the sides of his cheeks and the very top of his cheekbones—advanced and approached and finally contacted the effulgence with his palm. Instantly, it transformed, becoming lighter and brighter until it exposed a young girl with swarthy skin and large but beautiful brown eyes, which were framed by glasses and short, dark tendrils.
"What's her name?" Micah questioned, enthralled.
"Angela Weber," Aileen responded before scrutinizing him and moving onto the rest of the enthusiastic children; she lingered on Acacia, who beamed more broadly, who bounced forward with her pupils enlarging, with her chest ascending and descending with excitement, with her hands quivering.
She surveyed her with an emotion she could not decipher. It was a mixture of forlornness and pity—but other, more complex emotions intermingled with them. And she did not have the capacity to understand. But she knew, from the sudden dread settling in her stomach, from the sudden hammering of her heart, from the exchange shared between the trio, that it was devastating.
"She's from Forks, Washington. Leah hasn't met her, but I'm sure that they'll meet and become great friends—although, it'll happen when you least expect it," Aileen verbalized.
It expanded.
And darkened.
And became black.
Pitch-black.
It was ominous.
It was menacing.
It was a bad omen.
But it finally cleared.
And revealed Micah—older, more mature, but with his lean frame convulsing with misery, with agony, with a permanent darkness.
He whimpered and wept and withered.
And his face was mutilated.
But he cried over two deformed corpses.
He cried and cried and cried.
And he recoiled from his father.
And he screamed with guilt.
And he squalled and shrieked and sniveled.
It darkened again.
It petrified them.
But they could not stop.
It transformed and exposed the face of a budding beauty with auburn tendrils, a pallid complexion, and allusive cobalt irises, which resembled the placid waves on the beach.
She was identical to Alma.
Leah blanched and heaved and gaped.
Alma quavered, and her mother pounced on her and gripped her to her chest, and her father hugged them both and trembled and teared up and towed Aramis, her soul mate, closer until they were completely engulfed and united.
It was their child.
And they were dead.
Leah sobbed.
And the resplendence strengthened.
Angela was older—tall and skinny, shy but curious, intelligent but foolishly blind. She had a boyfriend—a joker, a boy who pretended to be a man, who made sexual innuendos, who admired a pale teenager with clumsy feet, who constantly interrupted her, who consistently smiled and laughed at her theories and her likes and never fully listened to her.
But she was content.
And that was all that mattered to Micah.
Especially with his bleak future.
He would never meet her because he would leave her alone.
"We apologize. We sincerely do," Aleta added, "but we cannot stop the process until it disappears."
While shuddering severely, Gwendolyn—a young, willowy beauty with auburn ringlets, a fair complexion, a heart-shaped face, and hazel irises—approximated and converged with the luminosity, which dispersed and widened until it displayed the face of a lanky, dark-skinned boy with long, black hair and a good-natured grin.
Jacob Black.
Sarah Black's baby boy.
"Oh, what's his name?" Gwendolyn inquired softly.
"Jacob Black," Leah replied instinctively, still shaken. "He's a nice boy—a bit reckless at times, but he's really a nice boy. You two will be perfect. I just know it."
"Oh, Leah, you don't know how happy you've made me," Gwendolyn mentioned, still heedful.
And her apprehension inundated her when it grew grayer, stormier, chillier.
It thundered and clapped and roared.
Gwendolyn whitened when a slightly older version of herself appeared, when her visage contorted with affliction, when her body withered, when her limbs twisted in odd angles, when her nose bled, when her cheeks were decorated with vicious, odd-colored bruises, when her flesh burned, when her eyes leaked tears, when her previously long hair shortened—with random chunks gone missing, with her injuries expanding and dispelling unhealthy amounts of blood.
Leah shrilled.
And it laughed.
Her parents rushed forward, comforting and alleviating her, fortifying and empowering her, but ultimately receding into the unfamiliar hold of grief and despondency.
It continued.
And Jacob howled with torment.
He scratched his flesh; he groveled and bent in different angles before plunging to the ground, rising unsteadily, dropping once more, and weathering.
Finally, it stopped. But he transfigured into a huge, hulking beast with canines, with a different, more wild disposition, and with enhanced abilities.
Leah shriveled.
And Gwendolyn merely stared with pity.
It pulsated, radiating malignant energy.
He resembled an adult, but he was not one; he towered over a pretty, pallid teenager, who constantly encircled herself with her arms but who slowly, with persistent nudging from Jacob, released her tight hold and permitted him to latch himself to her. Jacob smiled, looking genuinely happy.
At least for a moment.
Because it shifted, showing his temperamental side, showing his complete lack of control, showing his aversion toward an unnatural being with ghastly skin and golden eyes, showing his passion for the frightened teenager who clung to her lover, who soothed her lover instead of comforting Jacob.
He would suffer for the wrong person.
And it hurt Gwendolyn.
Because he would always love that girl.
The girl with the mahogany ringlets.
The girl with the clumsy feet.
The girl who did not love him but loved another.
He was damned.
But Gwendolyn was damned even more.
It stopped, asking for more victims.
While shrinking and suffering, Seraphina silently slithered forward and brushed the luminescence with her fingertips, exposing the youthful, cheerful face of a boy with dark skin, light brown eyes, and black hair.
It was Seth.
Her little brother.
Her happy, go-lucky brother.
"Your mate's my brother, Sera. He's very outgoing and happy. He'll make you very happy, just as you will," Leah declared, smiling with elation at Seraphina, who beamed back.
"Do you mind?" she asked timidly.
"Of course not," Leah proclaimed with sincerity. "Now, we can really be sisters. Now, we really are family."
"Thank you, Leah," Sera whispered before rapidly facing the darkening radiance.
It suddenly exploded with light, stunning and startling them.
Seth imploded and erupted into a monstrous creature, but his disposition remained the same; he simpered with laughter, with hilarity, with genuine satisfaction. His boyish features became masculine, more pronounced and prominent, more defined and sculptured, and his body elongated and became muscular.
He resembled a man, but he acted like a child.
And she smiled.
Mesmerized, he followed a serene tenor, dived into the ocean, found a charming beauty who resembled Seraphina—but older, with a slender but curvaceous body, with lovely irises and long raven tendrils. He grinned, and she giggled.
But she ultimately screamed.
His body became limp; his eyes whitened. His skin became paler and colder and frighteningly still.
He was dead.
Her baby brother was dead!
She yipped and yowled.
And Seraphina bawled.
"I'm so sorry! I'm sorry!" she yelled.
It seethed.
"That'll never happen! I swear it! I'll never let him die, Leah. I'll never meet him! I promise!"
She had looked fourteen.
He had looked fourteen.
He was too young!
They were too young!
"I promise, Leah, that I'll never meet him. Never!"
Overwhelmed with grief, she succumbed into the darkest pits of her mind, permitting her body to decompose, permitting herself to follow her delusions, to envision beautiful hallucinations, to conjure such lovely, bewitching futures with her deceased lover—but she completely snapped out of it when she noticed corpses slowly falling from the surface with their chests severed, with their eyes monitoring the cruel world around them, with the screams of their lovers and their mothers and their fathers and their children following closely behind them.
She gathered her strength, led armies, advised the council, and grew physically stronger but her mind weakened.
Until she was assassinated.
Brutally.
Violently.
Emotionlessly.
Leah mourned and moaned and mewled before wondering forward, encompassing her alongside her family members and her woeful friends, encircling and environing and remedying her, but she continued to chant under her breath, promising—no, vowing to never, ever encounter her brother.
And she did not know what to say.
She could not speak.
She could hardly breathe.
Unnerved, Acacia squared her shoulders, clenched her jaw, gritted her teeth, fisted her hands, and rigidly, with her eyes narrowing, with perspiration accumulating on her creased forehead, she careened forward and thrust her palms on the vibrating radiance.
It ruptured, savagely casting them away but confining Acacia, who blared and bellowed and twisted and tossed.
It became lighter, calmer, quieter.
But suddenly, the dark insignia of the Cerberus—of a three headed creature with a ghastly, demonic appearance, glowing irises, salient fangs, and an incredibly muscular frame— towered above their heads, growling, seeking, preying.
It attacked Acacia, scorching her, tainting her, poisoning her.
It embedded itself into her flesh.
And tarnished her innocence.
She hollered for help.
But her parents could not do anything.
It would not let them enter.
It would not let them help.
It only let them see her agony, her misery, her demise.
Spontaneously, Leah rammed into the force, breaking through the barriers, latching herself onto Acacia, ignoring the searing pain ripping through her, and shielding her completely from the luminescence.
She consoled her, murmuring lovely reassurances—while it blazed and wordlessly threatened her.
When it flashed, she nestled herself further into her hold, refusing and rejecting the identity of her mate.
But Leah watched.
And she barely harnessed herself from weeping.
He was incredibly good-looking—youthful, with the brightest jade eyes she had seen, with the most intricate emotions speeding through them, with the widest smile, with the calmest aurora she had ever encountered; he was tall and lanky, but she detected slim muscles on his legs and arms.
And he seemed perfectly charming.
But, when he smirked, his eyes rolled to the ground, where he stomped on a bleeding warrior.
His father was the leader of rebellion.
And he laughed and simpered and applauded him.
And he took pride in his work.
Leah shuddered, embracing her even more tightly.
He matured, gaining power, gaining rapid popularity among his followers, gaining strength and agility and intelligence beyond his years; he looked even more charming, even more handsome, even more persuasive and deceitfully kind, but he instantly squashed her hopes when he single handedly extinguished the lives of their forces.
And he merely smirked and fingered the cascade of blood streaming downward.
As Acacia developed, she became stronger, wiser, lovelier, but extremely self aware; she worked as intelligence, conjuring masterpieces and managing to annihilate dark forces, but they grew and expanded and infiltrated their fortifications.
Quickly, she exterminated their assailants, protected her people as well as she could until she saw him, until he sauntered forward, until he cockily analyzed her and, with his eyes meeting hers, quickly snapped his victim's neck—right in front of her, and she tried to attack him, tried to kill him, but she could not.
Her body would not let her.
Her instincts would not let her.
Her heart would not let her.
And he knew.
But he did not care.
He simply walked forward and smeared the blood of the innocent across her cheekbones.
And he admired his work.
And defiled her further.
He ensnared her, watching as she unwillingly slumped against him, as she unwillingly submitted herself to him, to his forces, to his cause.
Because her body commanded it.
Because her instincts dictated it.
Because her heart was weak.
Because she was weak.
And he destroyed her.
Emotionally.
Spiritually.
For the rest of her life.
For the rest of eternity.
And their forces died.
And they ultimately died.
Every single one of them.
Slowly.
Painfully.
But surely.
"You'll get through this," Leah vocalized, stabilizing her. "We'll get through this together. I promise."
The luminosity dimmed before it ignited.
Her face appeared.
And her loved ones enveloped her.
Closely.
Sorrowfully.
Tenderly.
And they apologized and apologized and apologized until she silenced them.
Suddenly, she vanished.
Practically evaporated.
But she materialized in front of her parents, in front of her elders, in front of a ritual.
She screamed and supplicated, but her pleas were not met.
And she forgot them.
She forgot her second family.
She grew and made friends and excelled at everything.
While Drakon suffered.
While he barely mustered his strength.
While he deteriorated emotionally.
Spiritually.
But she blossomed.
And formed a relationship with a clumsy, pubescent boy.
His name was Sam.
Samuel Uley.
While he hardened.
While he longed for her return.
Hoping.
Pleading.
Praying.
Every single day.
While Sam became her sweetheart.
And he loved her.
Until he transformed into a big, bulky monster, who abandoned her, who admired her cousin, who stared at her with pity and prompted her into turning into a horrific creature with resentment embedded into her heart.
She would be lonely, cast to the side, trapped and ruined.
Leah stilled.
It finally died.
And they all huddled together, comforting and consoling one another, grieving momentarily but eventually growing determined.
She sought Drakon, who enveloped her and rested his chin on the very top of her head.
She would not forget him.
She simply would not.
It would not happen.
It would not.
"Thank you for showing this to us," Acacia whispered tearfully. "At least, now we know that we have to prepare ourselves for the future."
"And change our destinies," Micah added.
The trio grimaced.
For destiny could not be changed.
Destiny had been completed for her.
She had forgotten them.
Every single one of them.
And they had been destroyed emotionally.
And he had been hurt severely while she had thrived.
She wordlessly apologized.
Overwhelmed, she closely held onto Acacia.
And she stared at her until her tear tracks faded.
She consoled her, even when her muscles compacted, even when her arms ached, her eyes burned, her hands cramped, and her legs constricted from the awkwardness of her position.
When she awakened, she smiled slightly.
But it ultimately receded.
"Thank you," she whispered, "but, Leah, what's wrong? You look sad."
"I'm so sorry for forgetting everyone," Leah apologized with her heart throbbing. "And I'm so sorry for everything that's happened. I-I—"
"You were young, Leah, and everything that happened to you before you left might have traumatized you. We should be apologizing for what happened, not you," Acacia persuaded, tranquilizing her. "But what happened? You seem different, more like—"
"More like what?" Leah prompted.
"More like the Leah I used to know. More soft," she replied without hesitating. "So what happened?"
"I remember what happened that day. Every little detail," Leah responded, perturbed. "D-did it all happen?"
"Some of it," Acacia answered with sorrow.
"And some of it, you have the answers."
She eyed the approaching figure with subdued surprise; she slunk forward, gliding and sliding across the expanse until she stood directly in front of her and embraced her.
"It's been such a long time, Leah."
"Oh, Gwendolyn, it has been," she instinctively responded.
Gwendolyn had flourished into a slender beauty with auburn tresses, which tumbled past her waist and tangled at the ends, a fair complexion completely devoid of any imperfections, a heart-shaped face, and wide, hazel eyes.
"You remember—at least a bit," Gwendolyn stated before grimacing.
"We'll tell you what happened after you left," Acacia mentioned while gripping her hands.
"We'll start with Micah. H-he's helping his parents with the affairs of the kingdom, but he has a child," Gwendolyn divulged with her voice cracking slightly.
"So do you remember what Aramis was?"
Leah shook her head.
"He was a Bellator. His parents were in charge of the kingdom, and Alma's parents were so close to them that they lived together. We got struck again, and his parents died. Alma's parents took care of everything—the kingdom, the kids, everything. But then they got captured, tortured and k-killed. By then, he was old enough to take over. He didn't want to at first, but everyone really liked him and convinced him to do it. Aramis and Alma were really close to us, but especially with Micah's dad and mom. Everything was fine for a while. They got married, and Alma gave birth to Angelique. Then, on Micah's birthday, they captured the two and Micah—"
"But how?"
"They were outside, talking and laughing; they wanted to show him what they made for him. It wasn't too far out, but they hadn't noticed that there weren't any guards around. Everything was quiet. They got captured and tortured, and Micah saw them get murdered in front of him. They sacrificed themselves for him, and he had the perpetrators found and killed after they ran away," Acacia elaborated, growing soft-spoken. "He had been named Angelique's godfather, and ever since he was sixteen, he's been taking care of her. She's three now, and he's nineteen."
"And the Bellators?"
"They've been taken over. When we tried to do something—well, it was too late. And we've tried but—"
Acacia sighed, frustrated.
"And he's never contacted Angela. Our world is too chaotic—"
"And she has a boyfriend," Leah added before sighing. "They've visited the beach in La Push, and I've seen them holding hands."
"And, exactly one year after you left, I was in the gardens of our home, and I was knocked unconscious. It was horrible to say the least," Gwendolyn vocalized with her hands shaking, with her eyes gathering moisture, with her heart beating faster and more erratic. "And, Jacob—well, he's in love with another. I can just feel it. Tell me, Leah, does he?"
She hesitated, but Gwendolyn waved her forward.
"He'll get over it soon," Leah uttered.
"If he's happy, then I'm happy," Gwendolyn mentioned. "Is he?"
"Truthfully, he's not," Leah clarified.
"He was 'in love' with his childhood friend, Bella, but she ended up choosing her bloodsucker boyfriend, Edward," she snarled before shaking her head and sighing. "Got married to him, too. Haven't heard much about them. We helped them with their problems when she was alive, but she's probably a bloodsucker now, and he kinda moved on now. He's the alpha. Plus, I'm sure that he'll be completely over her when you—
"I'll keep my distance," Gwendolyn whispered. "That's always been my plan. It's too dangerous, and he'll probably be much happier in his realm than here."
"But, he's a shapeshifter; he can defend himself. He can be happy here," Leah said, "especially since he'll have you here. He won't be confused and angry anymore."
"Leah, I'm sorry for saying this but you're here and you're definitely not happy here. And you resent Drakon, even though he didn't bring you here. And I can't do something that I know will just hurt him or make him resent me. I couldn't bare that," Gwendolyn clarified before twiddling her thumbs and snapping her head upwards. "Oh, Leah, that was completely insensitive!"
"No, it's the truth," Leah interjected, pacifying her. "I do resent him. I probably shouldn't, but I do. And I can't control it. I feel bad, especially after everything that I've witnessed, but I can't stop it. I'm sorry, but I can't."
"We understand. He understands," Acacia commented.
"And that would lead us to Seraphina, who, as you probably know, never actually contacted Seth. She never wanted to take any risks. How's your brother?" Gwendolyn questioned while wringing her wrists.
"He's a shifter, and he really loves his life. He hasn't met his imprint, and he doesn't think of anyone romantically, but he has high hopes that one day he'll meet her," Leah divulged.
"But Sera's terrified of ever meeting him," Acacia mentioned.
"Meaning that they'll never meet," Gwendolyn disclosed.
She respired shallowly, unnerved by the complexity of their situation.
"And poor Alistair and Eva," Gwendolyn muttered.
"Why?"
"Well, their mates, but they don't seem like it," Acacia divulged. "Something terrible happened to Eva—Micah's sister—and she can't have a relationship with Alistair. They're friends, but it's not the same. Everyone outside of our circle doesn't know that they're mates."
"What happened?"
"Well, she can't feel anymore. She can feel small emotions or traces of stronger ones, but she doesn't feel them like we do anymore. After she was attacked, she didn't cry—didn't feel any sadness or anything. She goes through the motions sometimes, but she can't feel those emotions clearly," Acacia explained. "She didn't want to get involved with Alistair either. She said he would be used for leverage. But I think she does it to protect him from her, since she can't feel what she used to. No matter how hard she tries, she can't feel it."
"Has it been working?"
"Pretty okay, considering he hasn't been used for leverage yet—and there's been plenty of opportunity for it to happen," Gwendolyn stated before sighing. "But obviously they're both risking their happiness. She refuses to spend too much time with him, and he accepts it, but you can just tell."
"How come no one's ever noticed?"
"Secrecy. Anyone who knows has made a pact. And it doesn't look like they're mates. If anything, it looks like he's in love with her. It doesn't look like they're mates or anything."
"Sounds pretty complicated," Leah commented, frowning.
"And his buddies—the three musketeers we call them, since they're always together in their missions—don't even know who their mates are."
"Radley and Damien—you've probably heard of them," Acacia suggested.
"Yeah."
"Okay, well, they weren't there that day. Aleta and her siblings disappeared right after that, especially since the other side was hunting them down."
"They haven't been seen since," Gwendolyn added.
"Where do you think they are?"
"We don't know for sure."
"But I'm sure you have theories," Leah pointed out.
"Well, they're obviously hiding, and no one's been able to find them. But everyone tried looking for them here. No one ever tried looking for them in the other realm," Acacia proclaimed as she leaned back.
"Makes sense."
"Yeah, it does," Gwendolyn agreed before exhaling sharply.
"Life has been hard but everything will change soon," Acacia stated. "I have faith."
"D-do any of you know how I came here?" Leah questioned hesitantly. "Do you know anything? Anything at all?"
"Truthfully, we don't," Acacia answered. "We didn't have the power to return you to our lands. Whatever bonded you in your realm was extremely powerful. And the only people who could help went missing. Only Aleta and her siblings could have done something."
While breathing profusely, she unconsciously ascended, paced around the perimeter of the training center, controlled her breathing, massaged her throbbing temples, and counted. Abruptly, she halted, stiffened, but ultimately relaxed when Artemisia traveled through the entrance.
"What's wrong?" Gwendolyn interrogated before rising and speeding forward.
"Plutus has been such a pain in the—never mind, but he's a pain nonetheless," Artemisia complained, sweating slightly. "I've even interrogating him for hours, and he has the nerve to—"
But she paused and smacked her lips together.
"Never mind, he's not going to talk anytime soon, but hopefully Calder will. Although if I remember correctly, he's as stubborn as a bull and has a tongue like a snake. Ruddy tongue," she mumbled, jaw set harshly. "Anyway, we're starting his interrogating at noon. Alistair's prepping him right now."
"He's been working too hard."
"Yeah, well, you know," Artemisia faltered before clearing her throat. "Eva's not here, and he's worried. It's understandable."
"And it's understandable that he needs a break," Acacia scolded.
"Don't tell me. Tell him."
"I have, but you know how he is," Acacia rendered. "And you should really take a break. Maybe a nap. You can't stay awake all night and expect to stay awake all day."
"I'll be fine," Artemisia dismissed. "Plus, if you're going to start scolding people for not sleeping enough, you have to start with yourself. Heaven knows you've been working day-and-night with hardly any breaks."
Acacia pursed her lips and crossed her arms, but she ultimately smirked and dipped her head.
"Nice comeback."
"Thanks. I've learned from the best," Artemisia stated pridefully before swiveling and monitoring her from head-to-toe. As she riveted her, she noticed her sagging shoulders, her scrunched nose, and the heavy, hesitant breaths billowing from her mouth. "Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Leah tensed.
"Or your past."
She wordlessly affirmed, watching as she stiffened but encompassed her.
"I'm sorry if you saw something you didn't want to see," Artemisia apologized. "Your life hasn't been the easiest."
"And neither has yours or anyone else's," Leah pointed out.
"But we were born into this," Artemisia retaliated with resignation.
"And it seems like I was, too," Leah proclaimed.
Artemisia merely smiled with her lips tweaking to the sides and her eyes sparkling with faith.
"Good morning," Nicodemus rehearsed before bounding forward with Delia, who encircled every single one of them. She quickly surveyed her appearance, grimaced, opened her mouth, but ultimately silenced her thoughts after perceiving the transformation in her behavior.
Speedily, the pack of trainees flocked their leaders, who, after centering themselves, promptly scrutinized their faces.
"After practice, you're all welcome to witness the interrogation session. However, for now, you'll train in partners, and we'll work personally with a few of you," Adara recited before dismissing them.
"Leah, do you want to partner up?" Gwendolyn offered timidly.
Leah consented before repressing her instinctual frustration from surging forward; she breathed in, then out, and repeated until she circulated her with a clear, level head and acute awareness. With her fists shielding her face, she stepped forward, mimicked Gwendolyn's steadiness and prudence, and, with impressive speed, front kicked her. But Gwendolyn quickly descended and swept her feet from underneath her, causing her to topple over. Without missing the opportunity, Gwendolyn pinned her down, securing her arms over her head and managing to restrain her legs with her knees. Immobilized, she thrashed against her hold, unwillingly permitting her anger to gain strength and power; it intensified, fortified and enkindled by her roaring instincts.
Calm down and breathe.
Calm down.
Breathe.
And everything will be alright.
Respiring normally, she jutted her knee upward, stretched the other, and knocked her from her right leg, which, when it became liberated, rapidly disentangled her other knee from her left leg. She rose, following her actions. Gwendolyn rushed forward and ducked before gaining speed and side kicking her. Winded but determined, she staggered back but quickly regained her composure. She hastened forward, impelling her backward and forcing her to backtrack, especially when she began punching and punting her. When she became distracted, she roundhouse kicked her in the stomach and aimed for a higher kick, but she deflected it and retaliated with far more expertise.
Gwendolyn cornered her, but she counter-attacked her. Deftly, she crescent kicked her, smacking her left shoulder but ultimately causing her to speed forward and clamp her hands onto her shoulders. In one swift movement, she incapacitated her. Leah groaned with disappointment, but, when she freed herself, she encountered complete silence.
"Leah, that was remarkable!" Adara exclaimed.
Leah restrained herself from blushing, but she could barely stop herself. And she did not want to. She was proud. They were proud.
"Thank you," Leah whispered, overwhelmed. "Thank you."
"You are most certainly welcome," Adara addressed before returning to her personal training with Admes.
"You did a fantastic job, Leah," Gwendolyn complimented. "You only started hand-to-hand combat yesterday, and you're already a natural at it, just like we all knew you would be."
"Excellent progress, Leah," Ly commented. "And Gwendolyn, I noticed that you've worked more on your offensive attacks; you have made great progress, but I recommend trying to end the fight as quickly as you can. Always try to hit for the windpipe, the pressure points, or try to hold your opponent in a choke hold. Actually, we can practice that now. The two of you can.
"You can practice the rear chokehold on these dummies. First, apply your left arm around the dummy. Make sure his windpipe is in the crook of your arm. Your bicep and your forearm must be on the side of his neck. With your right arm behind his neck, grab your left shoulder and reach with your left arm toward your right arm's bicep. Now, squeeze tightly," Ly commanded before dipping his head and clapping.
"The next chokehold is called the front chokehold, which is a better option if you're facing your opponent. Reach across with your right hand and grab the left corner of his collar, but make sure you don't grab your opponent personally. This gives you a greater advantage. Then, reach with your left hand toward your opponent's collar, but the right side of their collar. Your arms should be crossed in front of his throat. Tightly grip his collar and rotate your hands inward. Twist the opposite sides and squeeze," Ly explained while demonstrating and then surveying their technique.
"Good, good. I think you two have mastered this," Ly stated with appreciation. "I—"
"Ly, Adara, we've received new information and demands from Calder," Alistair reported.
"Training has ended. If any of you want to come, you can," Ly rehearsed before traversing the expanse of the training center and ushering them towards their destination.
While jeering, he strolled forward, rolling back his shoulders, tantalizing her, and staring directly at her; he smirked directly at her, directly in front of her, which unnerved and angered her.
Deliberately, Seraphina distracted her, reminding her of her complex situation with her brother, of her determination, of her sorrows and trepidations. Distressed by the nightmare she lived in, she squeezed her hands; she naturally encircled her, environing her completely and wordlessly thanking her for her commitment, for her sacrifices, but also apologizing for everything horrid that had happened.
And Seraphina simply smiled.
Her smile wobbled but ultimately strengthened.
From her peripheral vision, Calder paraded forward before shifting his complete attention on Seraphina. Ffrustrated, she positioned herself directly in front of Seraphina and glowered at the prisoner. She scrutinized his deliberate movements, consisting of his analytical gaze, of his unnerving behavior, of his simpering, smirking nature.
"Drakon, go inside and interrogate him," Adara ordered while inspecting the calmness of his demeanor and the emotionless expression on his face.
"I wondered when you would finally come," Calder delivered before seating himself. "How's little Leah? And your adorable sister?"
"Both are fine," Drakon answered without hesitating.
"Your sister's debilitating health and your mate's hatred towards you is considered to be fine nowadays? I really had no idea. I've been looking at life all wrong," Calder taunted.
He didn't even flinch.
He didn't even remark.
"Calder, you said that you had information you wanted to share. What is it?" Drakon inquired placidly.
"I do have something to say," Calder confirmed, "but it might not be to your liking."
"Go on," Drakon prompted.
"How is it possible for your mate to hate you? Especially since you're considered to be 'on the good side?'" Calder interrogated sardonically. "And don't avoid the question. You know you want to talk about it, especially since everyone stares at you with pity, especially since your family supports her more than you, especially since—"
"Calder, do you really want to listen to me?" Drakon inquired while inclining forward. "Are you sure?"
"Of course," Calder affirmed. "We were once friends, don't you remember? As your former friend, I want to catch up and hear about everything I've missed."
"Well, let me see. After you decided to leave, we looked for you everywhere until we realized that you committed various crimes and wanted to rejoin your father's cause. Understandable really. I was around twelve when you left. Three years had passed since the incident. Everything was shaky. A bit rough at times. But you knew that," Drakon started.
"Certain horrendous events occurred. But you know that. You took part of them. You planned them. You killed them. All of them. And it's understandable really. You came from a murderer who deserved his sentence—who deserved death. And his killer—well, let me just say that the killer's really close to you. Extremely close. You think we killed him. You think we could've killed him, but we didn't. Someone close to you did it," Drakon asserted, simply glancing at him when he enclosed his fists and clenched them further.
"We didn't kill him, but we'll leave that up to you. You can judge your father's death and make assumptions about the killer, but until then, you can't get your revenge, which is what you've been seeking for this entire time. Well, time moved on. I got older. Other events happened. I was kidnapped but you know that. You were there. You stared. But I got out and unfortunately some of your buddies could not. They died. Clearly very ironic. I have your amazing artwork on my body. It reminds me of such beautiful times," he continued, watching when his veins jutted from his temples.
"But the main reason why you're so interested about my relationship with Leah is because yours failed. And because of a great reason, too. She hated you with an intense passion. You refused to help her, even when she was tortured, even when she screamed for mercy, even when they put her life on the line. She hated you even more. Until it happened. Until you killed her. How do you feel, Calder? Knowing that your mate died at your hands? Knowing that you could've saved her? Knowing that your so-called friends and your amazing cause and your strong, fearless leader manipulate and betray you every chance they have?" Drakon verbalized without recoiling when Calder suddenly rose but, instead of growling or attacking him, he simply stared back at him with his smirk widening.
He applauded him.
"Fantastic story telling. I really enjoyed it, but you never answered my question. How is it that little Leah denies you?" Calder repeated before twisting his torso in her direction. "She's such a beauty. An angry, vindictive beauty—but she's one nonetheless. Very bitter. Must've had a misfortunate life in her realm, or simply a misfortunate relationship. How does it feel—to be rejected, to be unloved, to be so good and yet have no one that really appreciates it or comforts you? At least with me, my mate was useless—a distraction. She deserved her fate. You know, you should do the same. Getting rid of her will make you stronger, just as it has made me stronger."
"Stronger and yet you were captured," Drakon mentioned while tilting his head to the side.
"Captured? Whatever you say, dearest Drakon," he disclosed. "Now, greet little Leah and the rest of them for me. Especially Acacia. Tell her that her time is coming. And that I cannot wait for the day she leads us and brings you to your demise."
"How—"
"How do I know? Well, you're just going to have to find out," Calder rendered.
He exited and immediately encircled Acacia, who had rapidly stilled, who had frozen up and stood rigidly; she slowly environed him and trembled in his steady arms. While whispering sweet reassurances, he gradually soothed her. Tucking her beneath his chin, he successfully consoled her and hardened her resolves. After comforting her, he briefly regarded her before ducking his head.
She simply swallowed.
"He's not receiving any information from our forces, and there are absolutely no traitors in this kingdom, so he's receiving his information from another source," Delia declared. "But who's the source?"
"How can you be so sure?" Leah asked.
"Because everyone who enters is inspected by myself and my family," Adara proclaimed. "We have the gift of perception; we can tell when someone is being truthful or whenever someone is lying."
"And he was lying," Ly confirmed.
"But we're wondering how he received his information, considering that only a limited amount of people know, and all of us are in this kingdom," Aristo added. "We never told anyone else this information.
"If he knows, then his superiors know," Acacia murmured.
Meaning that her mate would know.
Even if she did not his identity, he knew hers.
And he would find her.
And he would destroy her.
And he would kill them.
All of them.
"Don't worry," Artemisia uttered.
"Because we'll get through this together, I promise. We promise," Leah amended before wrapping her arms around her shoulders.
"We will, Acacia. We're all a family. Don't worry," Admes remarked.
And the pressure that had been previously hovering above their shoulders momentarily dissipated.
Everything would be alright.
Absolutely everything.
But the beast ruined it.
He cackled with dark laughter—without any humor, just with sarcasm, with darkness, with maliciousness.
When she studied him, she caught a glimpse of misery, but it promptly vanished.
He had been affected.
He was cracking.
And he would wither and weather into nothing.
She would make sure of it.
After all, he was her prey—and she was his predator.
Hi! Thank you rakikel for reviewing! The bullying will be explained soon :) And yes, predestined couples are really idealistic-I feel like everyone just gets together because they have to, which is really why Leah tries resisting but at the same time doesn't do much. In a way, it's like losing your independence, and it can be weakening depending on who is your mate-like in Acacia's case or Calder's case. I basically paired a lot of couples together and made them seem very idealistic, but then I put in a few that really go against the idealistic version-or at least I hope :) Oh, and I was completely stuck with how to begin the sequel for this, and your comment definitely gave me some good ideas about predestined couples, so thanks so much! I'm really excited about that now!
I understand if this chapter was frustrating and seems like it shows too much about what will happen in the future, especially the beginning, but I promise, promise, promise that I have a few tricks and twists up my sleeves.
Thank you to everyone who has read so far! Constructive criticism is welcomed!
Next chapter will be shorter, but I hope everyone will like the advancement in the next chapter!
The next update will be in two days!