530- A Grandfather's Shadow, A Mother's Ghost
POV Thalyndra Moonclaw:
Were the Mercantes so cold as to not even mourn the death of a son? Edric promised chaos and destruction if anyone touched his. My father raised me to be self-sufficient, to learn to act alone, to fight for myself as a way to protect myself.
Myrion rolled his eyes and made a noise in his throat, impatient.
"Now that we know what you want and that it's unfeasible, can we end this detestable conversation?"
"I don't see anything unfeasible, I'm just telling the truth. Thalyndra Moonclaw belongs to the Mercantes, and her coming is indisputable to us."
"And who said you have any right over me?" I asked, stepping forward, losing control. "I want all of you to die and burn in hell."
He raised a finger.
"That's a little violent, my dear," he murmured, opening a smile. "But I like it, I like this bold spirit you have, it only reminds me of how much you are like us."
"You keep repeating that..., why?" I vociferated.
He moved a little closer. Anton stiffened, his posture shifting, ready for a confrontation if Severian tried to touch me. The Mercante stopped, as if he had been shocked. He inhaled, dilating his nostrils and sniffing the air. His pupils doubled in size.
"Gods, you are..." he swallowed hard, "mated?" My lips curved into a half-smile.
"How do you think they saved me? Thanks to your head of the guard, I got stabbed with a belladonna-poisoned blade."
He brought his hand to the back of his neck and shook his head, disconcerted.
"This... is outside the plans."
"If I had known, I would have done it much sooner," Anton mocked. Severian ignored him, blinking slowly, reflective.
"I am still grateful and pleased that you saved Thalyndra's life, but... the circumstances are no longer so favorable."
"Really? And why not?" asked Myrion.
"Well..., for the most obvious reason: first, because it makes her an Eldoria, since she is mated to the leader. And the second..., I had plans for a marriage with..." he gestured dismissively, "another match."
Anton let out a furious growl at hearing him talk about me marrying another man. Severian gasped and widened his eyes, then narrowed them as he observed Anton.
"Things have just become even more interesting," he murmured, observing us. "You are... fated mates." He clapped his hands and let out a scandalous laugh. "Heavens, this is simply incredible." He looked at me. "My dear, I had grand plans for you, but you have positively surprised me, raising my expectations. Fated mate of the Eldoria leader, a wolf whose DNA and powers are still unknown and inexplicable. Who would have thought that, in the end, it would turn out to be a blessing for us."
Gods, he was completely insane, nothing he said made any sense.
"I think we're done here," said Myrion. "Now that you know Thalyndra is mated to the future leader of the Eldoria, therefore, becoming one of us, there is no possibility whatsoever of her going with you."
Severian interlaced his fingers in front of his body.
"You're right, this changes all my plans."
"Perfect!" Myrion retorted, turning to Edric. "Can we kill him now?"
"But..., still, it doesn't change the course," the Mercante continued, ignoring the Eldoria heir. "Things have only become more interesting and even better."
"Yes, you can kill him, please," I whispered, impatient.
"As I've been saying, Thalyndra belongs to the Mercantes."
"You killed her parents and still think she feels anything beyond profound hatred for you?" Vladren laughed, incredulous.
Severian clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth.
"Oh, I think there's been a misunderstanding."
"A misunderstanding?" I shouted, taking another step. A gust of wind hit us, carrying Severian's scent to me. I stopped, motionless, my sense of smell recognizing him. "You... you were one of those present, your scent was in the office."
He nodded, shaking his head slightly.
"Yes, my dear. I was present that day, although I'm not the one responsible for executing your father's death. Silas and Omar got the credit."
My heart lurched in my chest, beating so irregularly that I could feel the buzzing in my ears.
It was him. The last death I promised, the end of my vengeance.
"I'm going to kill you!" I growled. "As cruelly as the deaths of Omar and Silas. You ruined my life and you will pay for it."
He rubbed his thumb over his lips and walked to the side, as if reflecting, making many plans. He didn't seem at all concerned about his safety, despite the explicit death threats he was receiving.
"No, you're not going to kill me." I let out a sarcastic laugh.
"Wait and see."
He finally stopped moving and turned to me, fixing his green eyes on mine. There was something so familiar about him, that reminded me of memories I still couldn't identify.
"Do you know why you won't kill me?"
"I'd love to know," I mocked.
"You won't do it because I am your grandfather, my sweet Thalyndra."
I took a step back, lethargic, as if struck by something invisible. Anton held me, steadying me. I blinked, confused, trying to understand what was happening.
Thalyndra. It was the nickname my father called me, that no one else knew, not even Anton. How did that wretched Mercante know that?
"Of course you're not," I retorted in a whisper. He breathed heavily.
"Yes, I am."
"Mercantes lie all the time, this is just some dirty little game of his to try to persuade you," Myrion retorted.
"You're right, pup, we are good liars, but I'm not saying anything but the truth at this moment."
Anton's hands were the only support keeping me steady. If not for them, my legs would have given way, and I would have fallen to my knees in the middle of the forest.
"It's not true..." I hissed, my voice barely a thread.
What he was telling me made no sense. Gods, was I adopted and didn't know it? Impossible, my parents would have told me the truth at some point. My father, in particular, valued the truth greatly, that's why he always told me everything about the Mercantes, never hid anything from me.
Severian let out an impatient sigh.
"Dear, please, come greet your pup," he shouted over his shoulder.
She emerged, coming out from behind one of the trunks where she had remained hidden. Her blond hair, impeccable, was loose, falling just below her shoulders. The smooth strands seemed to gleam when they came into contact with the sun.
She wore a white suit with a black silk shirt and high-heeled shoes that sank into the earth, yet she walked with an enviable poise.
I couldn't breathe, it was as if the air had become thin.
She smiled at me, her green eyes shining with unshed tears.
"Hi, daughter, I missed you so much," she murmured, the voice I never thought I would hear again.
I shook my head, rejecting the image unfolding before me.
Sorina Moonclaw was alive and well, standing right in front of me.