“Oh, that. Then my people need to get over it,” she replied.
“Oh, they want you for the asset you are, just as I do, even if you are a disappointment. Regardless of your presentation, the Maker’s Shadow will be pleased we found you. When I awake tomorrow, I will have your gift as my own.”
“Yeah, I don’t want House Rowan either, but what’s a girl to do?” Becka squirmed under his touch, the feel of his tongue against her skin made her shudder. She strained against her bonds, but her only free movement was in her feet and free arm, and Woden held her wrist firm. “Who’s this Maker’s Shadow, anyway?”
“She is ageless and has lived lifetimes. She will redefine what is possible for you.”
“Are you taking me to her?”
“It will be some time before you are invited to meet her, if ever,” he answered, avoiding her question. “We in the Shadows have survived this long by living in near-absolute secrecy. Our plans span decades. Lifetimes, even.”
At least it sounded like he planned for her to live, if only for his cadre of blood-drinkers to feast on her. “How old are you?”
“Oh yes, we have awaited you, and your foretold incomparable powers, for hundreds of years. I am not old yet, but now, with your blood, I will live forever.”
“Wait, what are you talking about?”
“According to prophecy, your blood contains the key to our immortality. With you we can regain the powers and talents of our ancestors. We will cast off their heavy-handed and arbitrary limits.” He lapped at her wrist again. “You are even more potent than I had dared to hope.”
“Wow, just...wow,” Becka replied, fear chilling her to the core. “I mean, I’m oddly flattered to hear of my...potency, but to hear you have this unimaginative ‘prophecy’ crap guiding you…I’m frankly disappointed.”
“Who would not want the promise of immortality?”
“Oh, no, I don’t mean that. I mean, immortality sounds great. I’m still stuck on the idea of you actually believing in prophecy.”
Woden’s lips, which were stained with her blood, thinned and his cheeks flushed. “Our order treats the ancient prophecies as the sacred texts they are, unlike the rest of the fae who abandoned the teachings of the ancients. I wouldn’t expect you to comprehend such mysteries.”
“I’d just expected something more impressive from the ancient and mysterious order once known as the shadow-dwellers. I mean you know everyone thinks you’re long gone, right? Just a flash in the pan. A children’s boogeyman tale. You were forgotten centuries ago.”
Fire burned within his eyes. “I can assure you we are very much still here, thriving, and thanks to faithfully following the clues left within the prophecies, at the cusp of achieving our quest towards immortality. Our return to power will uplift the entirety of the fae and the future we have planned for this world.” He cut her again, not as deeply this time, and then pressed his lips to her wrist.
Despite lying down, she felt spacey and nauseous. It didn’t help that as he drank from her, her headache grew exponentially. How much blood had she lost so far? Surely not that much?
“Hey there, save a little for your friends.” She knew of various contested fae histories, but fae prophecy was news to her. When he didn’t respond, she egged him on again. “What’s my prophecy say?”
He sighed and stopped drinking from her to answer, his expression triumphant. “The strongest power in generations emerges in honor to the old. An emptiness fills the void.”
Becka waited, but he didn’t continue. “That’s it?”
“I would not expect you to appreciate the details of our lore. It takes some time to learn how to interpret the truth of prophecy.”
“I don’t get the impression you understand it either.”
He raised his hand as if to strike her, and then stopped. “Explaining prophecy to you is a waste of time.”
“Just like killing my sister was?” Becka’s teeth ground together, a fiery anger filing her chest. “I have to assume your prophecy led you astray that time?”
“The paths the faithful follow can be circuitous but rewarding. She led me to you, after all.”
Hearing what amounted to a confession from him boiled her blood. She’d been seeking her twin’s killer, and here he was, except he’d been hunting her. If only she wasn’t tied down...what would she do?
“You can just admit you haven’t a clue what you’re doing," she said
“If I had not found you, another of my order would have. Your fate was sealed upon your birth.”
He picked up a roll of gauze from the small bedside table and began wrapping it around her wrist. Becka signed with relief, hoping it meant she wouldn’t bleed out here and now.
“I’m convinced you are the one who was promised. It’s time to get moving.”
After he’d finished bandaging her right wrist, he turned and picked up some rope. He sat her up on the bed, checking the existing bonds running around her chest and midsection.
“Wait, how does the blood-drinking even work?” she asked. “I mean, my gift is to break magic. Nullifying it. Aren’t you taking a huge risk by exposing yourself to it?”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s a complex process with alchemy you couldn’t even begin to comprehend. It’s said, ‘where the blood flows, the power goes.’ But trust me, my method works.”
“But that’s just a children's rhyme? Try me, I’d like to understand.”
He grinned. “I refuse to explain the secrets of the shadow to you. However, the gift behaves differently when magic is extracted from someone versus when it is used by them. Have no fear, tomorrow I will awaken with the power of your gift flowing through my veins.”
Becka shuddered. “Extracted… You mean you can remove it from me?”
“Up you go,” he said, lifting her up and onto her feet. He held her steady until she stopped wobbling. “A bit, yes, but your power runs deep. Luckily
