The Unthought Fate [MxM]

Chapter 6

    Vlad

 "Hello, little warrior!" I hear a voice say.

My body freezes, my heart starts pounding, and I can feel the blood drain from my face. This is not happening. No, no, no! There must be a mistake. Only Dad knows our signal—a short whistle, a few high-pitched notes, and another short whistle.

I must be dreaming. No—this is a nightmare, not a dream. This can't be happening. I try closing my eyes, hoping what I'm seeing will disappear, but I can't. What if I blink and something worse happens? What in the world am I thinking? This is bad. This is the worst.

My mind screams at me: RUN!!! But I can't. It's like someone cut the connection between my brain and my body.

As silence is the only reply to this unwanted greeting, the person continues.

"Oh, come on now! It's not like you didn't know this would happen soon. You knew we were coming after you, didn't you? We spread the rumors in the previous village, and I know you heard them. It was only a matter of time." She grins like this is funny or something.

"What?" is all my malfunctioning brain can say. After a couple of seconds, I manage to ask, "Where is my dad? Who are you people?"

"Yes, how rude of me! While I know everything about you, you know nothing about me—or us." She gestures to the men behind her.

"Let me introduce myself. My name is Corvina, and I'm one of the head hunters paid to search for you. The ones behind me are half of our team." She says this with such glee that I feel sick.

"And to answer your other question, let's just say your dad is in good hands—with my twin brother Corvinus and the other half of our team. They should be here any moment now." Her grin never fades.

She steps closer, while I instinctively step back.

"Oh, don't be like that. I'm not going to hurt you... yet. At least not without reason, so I advise you to stay still and not give me one," she says mockingly, as if self-preservation is meaningless.

"My, my... you got your mother's eye color and even those beautiful curls. Too bad she isn't here to see you."

"What? You knew my mother?" I ask, stunned.

She laughs loudly, then calms herself. "A lot of people knew your mother. She was supposed to marry the crown prince, after all. It's not every day a noble woman is betrothed to royalty." She smirks again.

"What? That can't be! You must be mistaken. Please leave me alone. I'm not who you think I am. Who you're looking for isn't here—it's not me," I manage to say, my legs trembling, my hands shaking.

Her laughter grows louder. The six others snicker like I've told a joke.

"Please don't tell me your father didn't tell you the truth about her!" she says, wiping tears from laughing.

"My father would never lie to me. We have no secrets," I raise my voice.

"Uh, feisty! I like that. Not a good trait for slaves, though. You should forget it—for your own good," she says, stepping closer and grabbing a strand of my hair.

"Don't touch me!" I shout, stepping back, but she is faster. She grabs the back of my hair and tilts my head up.

"Listen here, you little brat," she hisses.

"I tried to be nice, but you still don't understand what is happening. So I will break it down for you. We are mercenaries. My twin and I are magical creatures, and you will not escape. We will bring you to our client. I strongly advise you to shut up and do as you're told. One more word or move, and I will begin early slave training. Are we clear?"

I nod. That is all I can do.

"Good. Now we wait in silence."

Silence. She emphasizes it, and I know she means it.

Time has never moved slower. What felt like half an hour feels like a full week.

My mind spins with dark thoughts. What happened to Eric? Did Dad really lie to me? No. He wouldn't. We talked about this. We don't lie. It's dangerous.

No. This must be a trick. A way to break us apart. I won't believe anything unless Dad tells me himself.

Lost in thought, I don't notice the others returning until they start calling out.

When I see them, I search for my father—and when I find him, it feels like I've been struck by lightning.

He is shackled. His hands are bound behind his back. His legs are chained, forcing short steps. A collar with two chains is held by two hunters. He is injured, limping, one eye swollen, his body hunched.

I start sweating. My stomach turns. I bend over and vomit. My vision blurs with tears.

I have never seen my father look so defeated. What did they do to him?

When he sees me, his eyes widen—and something in him breaks. Like he has failed me.

I mouth, "Dad."

He mouths back, "I'm sorry."

He has nothing to be sorry for. He always did his best to protect me.

I notice Corvina calling out to another man—her exact mirror, but with sharper features. Corvinus.

Only now do I see it: many of them have cornrows, like Calum, but styled differently. The witches and warlocks, maybe.

The others are pale—unnaturally so. Sickly. Vampires.

My thoughts briefly drift to Calum.

No. Not now.

Corvinus looks at me with a smirk. "To think we went through all this for a useless kid."

Corvina laughs behind me.

"Business is business," she says.

"Break," Corvinus orders. "We move after."

I can't look away from Dad. He won't meet my eyes. I try to get his attention—move, gesture, anything—but he keeps staring at the ground.

Why won't he look at me?

An hour passes like seconds and eternity at once.

We move out. Dad is in front, surrounded. I'm in the middle of the group, unable to reach him, unable to speak to him.

Two weeks later, we arrive at the supernatural capital.

I am a mess.

They separate us constantly. I barely see him. I can't speak to him. I need just one look from him—but I get nothing.

They explain they have been tracking us for a long time. Learning our signals. Our routines. Our weaknesses.

By the time we reach the city, they cover my head with a bag.

Not seeing anything makes everything worse.

My mind fills in the gaps.

And none of it is good.

Something tells me—

things are about to get even worse.