He nodded in acceptance and entered her narrow and compact home. As he moved she couldn’t help but notice his grace, the smoothness of his gait. He had a way of gliding when he walked. No one should be able to move that smoothly through life.
As she assessed him, her gaze landed on the rolled sleeves of his collared shirt. They strained over his biceps. Memories of how those arms had once held her tenderly crept into her mind.
Divina tore her gaze away. She couldn’t get lost on memory lane. Once he sat, she demanded coolly, “What trouble have you gotten into now?”
Rori wasn’t a man who rushed anything. He moved as though he had all the time in the world, and in reality, he did. Confidence one mastered after the first one hundred years of life. It came from the knowledge that the next hundred or the hundred after that wouldn’t be as hard.
Divina, on the other hand, was mortal. “I’m not agreeing to anything,” she added as if that would somehow convince him to get on with it.
Rori shifted his attention from her to run his fingers over the threadbare fabric covering the seat cushion of the chair she used for clients. He frowned in disapproval. Rori was accustomed to more extravagance than she could afford. He reluctantly took a seat.
Clearing his throat, crossing his legs under the table, he interlaced his fingers, then took a relaxed hold of his knee as he sat upon the wooden chair opposite her. “There are rumors—”
“There are always rumors. You never troubled yourself with gossip before.” She cut him off, still annoyed that he dared come to her.
He arched a brow. “If you insist on interrupting me, this will take longer.”
She sat back, arms folded over her chest. Heat rose through her face and her eye twitched. The prickle of annoyance danced up her neck. As much as it galled her to admit it, Rori had a point.
“As I said.” He paused as if waiting for her to interrupt again. She waved a hand for him to continue uninterrupted. He nodded. “There are rumors. As you know, with Klaus accepting the sun, there is a vacant seat on the council, a vacant vampire seat.”
She nodded.
“The princes are rumbling about who will be the next emperor and thus take that seat. Which, of course, is causing an uproar with the dukes.”
“Rori, as much as I enjoy the little lesson in vampire politics, I don’t see how this concerns me.”
Rori, always her teacher, often explained the supernatural world to her. At one time, she valued those lessons. She had needed them to know who and what she really was, but not today. He gave up his role as her teacher when he gave up on their love. Now Divina just wanted him to say his piece. Then, she could deny him, and they both could move on.
“I’m getting there.”
She sighed.
He took a moment to smooth his pants. Was he stalling? “There is going to be a coup.”
She arched a brow.
“I have your attention now?”
“I’m waiting for you to get to the part where I care. I’m practically human.”
“But you’re not,” he said.
“Isn’t the sun about to come up?” Divina snapped impatiently.
“You keep interrupting. This is taking longer than expected.” He sat back. “I might have to spend the night.” He had that sly grin that used to make her melt. At one time, she adored that grin. The lopsided half smile used to have her stomach in knots and her heart fluttering. But not today, not anymore.
“Try it, and you’ll burn,” she growled back when narrowed eyes.
Once more, he covered his heart as if wounded by her words. “Divina.”
“Get on with it, Rori.”
“Percival Hohenzollern.”
Divina waited. Rori said nothing. They stared at one another stubbornly.
“I don’t know what that is,” she finally said after a continued silence.
He groaned. “Do you really exist in a world where you don’t pay attention to what is around you?”
“I try to keep myself out of trouble.” She glared at him.
He frowned, his never-ending confidence appeared to waver. “If you don’t pay attention, trouble comes to your door.”
She raised her brows and gestured toward him. “Case in point.” She stood up and smoothed her off-the-shoulder, white, peasant-style blouse. “I’ll do better next time,” she assured him. “So, trouble, why don’t you take your Percy Honey-whatever and get on with your night.”
With the unexpected thud of his fist against the table, Divina recoiled as a gasp left her lips.
“You’re not taking this seriously. You cannot be this foolish.” He rose, his full height a good six foot and change, five inches over her. Thankfully, she still had the reprieve of the small table between them.
“I don’t involve myself in vampire poli—”
“Goddamn it, Divina.” Rounding the small table with preternatural speed, he took away what little defense she had. He seemed enormous towering over her with an ominous glint in his eye she’d never seen before.
Fear closed her throat, paralyzing her to the soft pillows of her couch leaving her vulnerable, when he gripped her upper arms pinning them to her sides. His gaze bore into hers. Like a deer caught in the headlights, she couldn’t move.
“The prophecy is in motion, and you want to play fucking games!” he growled.
As the initial shock at his outburst subsided, Divina rolled her eyes. Rori had preached to her about the prophecy since he told her she was a witch. Having been raised in foster homes, she never had a clue about her background. When Rori strolled into her life, he came with more than just clues to her heritage, he came with a prophecy.
While he never told her the exact wording of the prophecy, she had heard more than enough about it impacting his and her lives. As far as Divina was concerned, the prophecy was just another manipulation tool Rori had used against her to get what he needed from her.
Her impatience at his mentioning of the prophecy only served to spur his outrage. He released her and turned his back to her. Letting out an animalistic cry of frustration with his arms flailing, he narrowly missed her spice cabinet.
Divina leaned forward, her hand out, prepared to catch anything he could knock off a shelf. With little room in her wagon, there wasn’t much space for Rori to have his little hissy fit. When his fingers grazed the curtains of the window, he paused his movements, as if suddenly aware of the cramped space.
Rori mumbled to himself. Eventually, he folded his arms. She couldn’t see his face. Suspecting he held his chin in an attempt to regroup after his child-like tantrum, Divina lost some tension in her own body with the sound of Rori’s deep breaths.
Sitting back onto the multi-colored cushions, she returned to the sanctuary she had behind the table. Waiting for Rori to collect his thoughts once more, she studied his tight posture. The length of time it took him gave Divina pause. Perhaps, she should take his visit a bit more seriously.
Rori sighed and turned toward her. The lines on his face were deeper than before as if he had aged ten years in the last five minutes. His hands fell to his sides when he asked, “Have you joined a coven as I requested?” The sound of defeat in his voice all but crushed Divina.
Chapter 4
“No.”
Rori barely heard her. The look of guilt in Divina’s eyes, was the look of a child given a chore that wasn’t done. It reminded him of how he had mentored her.
Divina had been innocent then. She had no idea what the world had in store for her. Rori hated himself to this day for being the one to show it to her. He hated having done the Ember Witches’ bidding. He hated how he had tainted her.
Sitting back down in the distasteful wooden chair, Rori suddenly felt weary. “You need a coven,” he said trying to implore her in a voice typical of a father toward his daughter and not the tone of a man speaking to his ex-lover.
She didn’t say anything. She lowered her gaze as if caught cheating on a test. Divina busied her fingers with
the fringe dangling from the scarf covering the table. It was all Rori could do not to scoop her up and settle her in his lap. He fought the urge to cuddle her, to stroke her hair, and tell her he’d protect her, that things would be okay.
He should have been delighted Divina hadn’t aligned with a coven. It lent credence to the prophecy, and to what he’d been told he needed to do. Though, a part of him wished she had. A coven would have offered her protection, a protection he yearned to give her.
“I don’t see how it’s any business of yours.” Divina’s voice was weak. An attempt at defiance. Maybe, even a jab at him for how they had left things. However, it lacked the conviction she displayed earlier.
Gods help him, Rori had to exploit it. For the sake of all beings walking this earth, he needed Divina on his side. Telling himself using her this last time was a means to an end, Rori took a deep breath. “I’ve always wanted what was best for you. I wanted you to find a coven, not just because you are powerful and need to learn how to harness it, but because it will keep you safe.” He had never spoken truer words in his long life. It helped that the truth served his cause in this instance.
Looking up at him with large, doe-like, eyes brimming with tears, Divina questioned him without words. The pain reflected in them belonged to Rori. It pierced his heart when her voice hitched with her reply. “You have never once concerned yourself with my safety.”
It was all Rori could do to keep his hand down and not cover the metaphorical wound. Instead, he looked away, unable to hold her gaze any longer. There wasn’t much he could say to that. He had kept her safe, the only way he could, while simultaneously getting what he and the witches needed from her.
Rori clenched his jaw. Fucking witches. Fucking fate. Fucking prophecy. He yearned for different circumstances.
Rori’s gaze fixated on the table. Divina’s tear splattered onto the table and drew Rori’s attention. The ache in his chest increased. He never wanted to see her in pain, but he had caused it, over and over. He had dealt her pain all because of some prophecy.
Longing for the days when he’d first entered her life, when the two of them were happy, Rori’s jaw tightened. He fingered the table and winced at the memory of when he had been instructed to leave her behind, that she had done what was needed. A palm over his chest, he gently rubbed at his sternum. Per the witches, the lazy beat of his heart was all Divina had been meant to do when he first met her. Once he had the heartbeat, he had to break hers.
“Do you feel guilty? At all?” she asked waking him from the memories.
Without looking up at her, he said, “I don’t have time to feel guilty, and neither do you.”
“You’re a monster, Rori.” She swiped at the tears falling down her cheeks.
At that, he looked up at her with an irrational ire flourishing in his chest. Only he could beat himself up over the mistakes of his past. He loved Divina, but he could only handle so much.
Keeping his face neutral, despite knowing he’d wronged Divina, but he chose not dwell on that. “You think I want this?” he asked as a challenge, getting to his feet kicking the tacky chair out from behind him. “You think I wanted to come here? You think I wanted to be at your door? Of all the doors in all the world, I wanted to go to yours?” Rori scoffed as the warmth of building anger blossomed on his cheeks.
Gaping at him with wide-eyed shock, Divina leaned back.
“Powerful witches sprinkled about the world.” He pinched his fingers and mimed adding spice to a metaphorical globe. “And yet I came to you? I. Have. To.” With his chest heaving, he took a moment to breathe. “Our fates are twined together. You felt it yourself. You know I have to be here.” He all but vibrated with anger at her. “So suck it the fuck up, put on your big-girl panties, and step up to the goddamn plate. You can’t wallow in that pain forever.” His chest heaved.
Frozen in place, Divina’s mouth hung open as she stared at him.
Fuck.
Shifting gears, his unexpected rage-filled outburst had gotten her attention as expected and was necessary, he needed to rein it in to really hammer it home. Closing his eyes a moment, he drew in long breaths until the heat receded. Lowering his voice, he displayed the empathy he truly felt while opening his expression and meeting her gaze. “I’m no fool. I know I destroyed what we had. I had to.”
Divina blinked at him. Her hands rested in her lap and tears slipped down her cheeks. Had he gone too far?
With her stunned expression, she sat on that awful couch strewn with cushions, which lined the back wall of the wagon and doubled as her bed. Rori stood opposite her with a table between them, gut knotting with conflict. Neither one spoke for what felt like eons.
“How did you get so empty?” Her voice cracked.
Hesitating at the rawness of the question, Rori took a moment to gather his thoughts. Empty. A word he’d never thought could be used to describe him. The woman he’d felt the most for, and she thought him empty because of his own actions. The weight of the accusation caused his shoulders to slump.
He turned toward the window, checking the night for how much time he had. The darkness of the night had lightened from pitch black to a navy blue. The sun would make an appearance sooner than he would like.
He sighed before he answered. “With time, you learn to turn it off.” Rori wouldn’t look at her. “Sort of, anyway. The pain of losing the best thing you ever had, it gets dull the more times you lose it.” He looked over his shoulder at Divina. “You call it empty. Maybe I am. I just think I am surviving.”
“That’s no way to live,” she whispered.
“Then it’s a good thing I’m dead,” he quipped and returned to studying the brightening skies.
Amid her silence, he glanced over his shoulder toward Divina seated amongst cheap decorative pillows wearing the costume of a fortune teller. The intensity of her gaze upon Rori sent a wave of regret crashing into him. Despite the years that had passed since he’d crushed their hearts and left her, she still looked upon him with trust. Watching her internal debate play out on her features, Rori shifted.
“What do you need from me, Rori?” Divina sounded defeated.
He hated that tone coming from her. He hated that he had manipulated Divina again. He hated that he knew how to get her to do what he needed.
She was stronger than she knew. The ease with which Rori conquered her was always an unpleasant surprise. Longing for the day she’d beat him at his own manipulative game, he wished he could strengthen her defenses. He wished his purpose was to build her up. He wanted so much for her to be free of vulnerability. She deserved so much more than his purpose.
He sighed. “Tonight?” He turned his body to face hers. “I need a place to stay. The sun will be up soon, and I’m too far from my hotel.”
She frowned at him.
Holding up his palms, he couldn’t stop the smile crossing his lips. “Platonic. Tomorrow, or well, later today, we can discuss the details.”
Divina reached behind her and tossed a pillow to the floor. “Don’t you even think of getting up here. And, I snore.”
He half smiled as he closed the shutters preventing any light from coming in. “You always have.” While he responded playfully, his disappointment in her grew. He wanted her to be stronger against his manipulations.
Floop. A pillow struck him in the face distracting him from the moment. Taking him away from his sorrowful thoughts, he decided to just enjoy being in her presence again.
Rori gazed upon Divina while holding the pillow. How he missed her playful nature. It only made him hate himself that much more.
Chapter 5
Careful not to utilize too much effort, Aric turned the wrench to ensure the plumbing fixture secured tightly. He hated working on his kitchen sink. The space under it was cramped for his broad frame. He should update the whole setup. The thing clogged more than any sink he had ever worked on.
With his leg against the can of powdered cleaner, Aric realized he should have plac
ed the cleaning products on the table when he emptied them from under the sink. Now, he had to inch his way out like creeping around a sleeping and hungry lion. The perfect way to end a sink repair.
Mid-wiggle, he paused. That scent. It wasn’t his. It wasn’t his pack’s. Jasmine. Honeysuckles. That scent was female, an unknown female. Interesting. He was pretty far out for anyone to find him.
A knock on the door sounded before he could finish his escape from under the sink. Thunk. The scent of cleaner filled his nostrils blocking out anything else. Blue crystals and powder covered his pants. “Motherfucker!” he growled.
Aric stalked toward the door and yanked it open. “What?” He snarled swatting at his crotch; he attempted to rid himself of the spilled cleaner.
A scantily clad, voluptuous blond with large brown eyes looked up at him. The unknown female said nothing. The female merely swept her gaze over him. Aric couldn’t help but notice when her eyes lingered on his blue powder-covered crotch.
Aric’s brow rose. “You lost?” he asked.
Looking past her, behind her, Aric scanned the lot of land he called home. Observing nothing visually out of the ordinary, his hackles rose in suspicion. Sniffing the air, not even his pack’s scent was in the air. Nothing but that blasted cleaning powder.
“Aric Braun,” she spoke in a sensual whisper.
“Yeah?” Her voice drew Aric’s attention back to the curvy woman. Leaning against the doorframe with his arms over his bare, tattooed chest, he narrowed his gaze upon her. The blue cleaning crystals were now a distant concern.
She ascended the two stairs, and Aric stepped back confused. Slithering past him, she entered his home, his den. Balking at the idea, his inner beast snapped. Opening his mouth to protest, he paused as her warm skin grazed his, and he swore it tingled like a small electric shock. Recoiling, Aric swung around offering her a wide berth in the cramped space that was his trailer.
Curling his lip, his wolf pacing within him, Aric rubbed at the spot where their skin touched. Who did this woman think she was entering his domain uninvited. Following her fluid, sensual movements with his predatory gaze, he studied her in an attempt to ascertain her intentions.
The Witch of the Prophecy Page 2