The Red Wolf's Daughter (Book 3 Part 1: The Becoming of the Siran)

Chapter 34

My grandfather cleared his throat, causing me to look at him. His face was rather blank, but I could tell that he was rather grave about the situation that my cousin had found himself in. "Can we get back to the box?" he asked, causing me to nod my head.

"Are you sure that you don't want to wait for your grandmother?" Cromwell asked, causing both of us to look at him and scowl. "You both have the same scowl," he said. "Have you ever noticed that?"

"Shut up," I said, causing him to smile innocently. I rolled my eyes and shook my head a smile curving onto my lips. I turned my attention back to the box and took a deep breath in. I stuck the key into the lock and turned it, causing the box to hum and a part to fall off. "The fuck?" I asked, looking at it and then looking at my grandfather.

"Pick it up and put it over the top," he said.

Hesitantly, I did what I was told to do grabbed the piece that had fallen off. Inspecting it, I noticed that it was the same symbol as the one on the door. "Is this the symbol of the Siran?" I asked, looking up at my grandfather.

He nodded his head. "Put it over the top," he said, causing me to nod my head and lick my lips.

I took a deep breath and placed the thing over the top causing it to pop up. "The hell?" I asked, flinching back in shock. I took a deep breath and placed the piece on the table. I pushed back the cover to reveal a dagger, a chunk of wood, and a book. "What's this?" I asked, looking up at my grandfather.

"Take it out," he said, causing me to scowl. "All of it."

"All of it," I grumbled, mockingly. "Aren't you going to tell me what it is?"

"When you take it out," he replied, coldly. "Unless you do not want to know what everything is."

I huffed and nodded my head as I hesitantly pulled out the dagger, chunk of wood, and the book. "Why is there wood in here?" I asked, picking up the wood again as I placed down the book. I furrowed my eyes at the black piece, feeling this sort of ancient magic coming off of it.

"It's from an Oobonee Tree," my grandfather said, causing me to look at him. His face was dark and grim as if seeing that had bad memories for him.

Cromwell looked at the piece of wood and then looked at his brother. Worry flickered through his eyes, and I could tell that he really cared about his brother.

I cleared my throat causing Cromwell to look at me. I gestured my head to my grandfather, who looked to be in a bitter memory and frowned.

Cromwell shook his head, not answering my silent question. "The tree is specifically from the Underworld," he said, causing my grandfather to stir from his thoughts and glare at him.

"You were in a memory, so don't give him that look," I said. "I will take off my shoe and throw it at you."

"You do realize that..."

"I know," I said, smiling at Cromwell. "I try to make sure that I only do it when are alone and no Demons are around when I do it."

Cromwell furrowed his brows and stared at me in confusion. "Wh-"

"It's nothing," Fernos growled out, causing me to scowl at him. He blinked unamused and cleared his throat. "The tree is said to connect all Demons together," he said, finally. "And, it is said to burn someone that isn't of Demon blood."

I placed the wood down even though it hadn't burnt me at all and looked at my hands. "Ummmm..." I held up my hands to show that they weren't burnt and cocked my head. "Why?"

"You have the Demon insignia," Cromwell said. "On your skin. However..." He gave his brother a look causing his brother to scowl at him. He smiled apologetically and shrugged his shoulder.

"However what?" I asked, furrowing my brows in confusion. "What are you hiding from me?" I asked that to my grandfather, knowing that it was he who was telling Cromwell not to tell me.

"Nothing," Grandpa Fernos said, causing me to roll my eyes. "Change the subject."

"Fine," I said. I picked up the dagger and studied it. I could feel this power coming off of it, and it seemed not to agree with the dagger that was at my side. Both of them were urging me to pull them out of their sheathe and stab someone, but that was not something that I wanted to do.

I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth, feeling the power wash over me as they silently urged me to do something dangerous and thirst for blood. "Cut it out," I hissed, softly, clenching the dagger tighter in my hand. "Now."

Power filled my voice, and I was surprised that both daggers seemed to listen and stopped urging me to kill someone.

I took in a deep breath and relaxed my clenched body before opening my eyes to find both my Grandfather and Cromwell standing away from the table. "What?" I asked, furrowing my brows and cocking my head. My head still pounded from the power that both daggers had put on me as they tried to fight each other.

"Your skin," Cromwell said, nodding his head to me. He stared at me with a wide mouth as if he was surprised that I had so many markings on my skin.

I frowned and looked down to see that my markings were glowing with the brilliant red of fire in me which was rather weird even for me. Each marking was visible, each of them being marked on my skin by my grandparents. "Ya?" I asked, moving my arms to see that they were there. "And, your point is..?"

"How many markings do you have on your skin?" Cromwell asked.

I placed the dagger down, causing the markings to disappear and shrug my shoulder. "I don't know," I said, honestly. "Over a hundred."

"From..?"

"Demon, Witch, and Fae," I said. "I don't understand half of what has been put on my skin."

Cromwell hesitated and moved close to the table. He picked up his seat and sat down with my grandfather following him. "Why did they appear?" he asked, causing me to shrug my shoulder.

"Both daggers were fighting each other," I said. "They were wanting to be used, but..." I licked my lips. "I was able to control them?"

"Both daggers?" Cromwell asked. He furrowed his brows and studied me, frowning. "What daggers? I only see one."

"Oh, right, you aren't able to see it." I took the dagger out of the sheath and held it up for him to inspect it. "This one," I said, causing Cromwell to lean forward to inspect it.

"It's made from Witches and Faes. Why can't I see it?" he asked.

"I guess that Dark Witches can't see it," I said. I shrugged my shoulder. "I dunno. I had never dealt with Dark Witches before, especially those that are innocent."

Cromwell nodded his head. "Name?" he asked.

"It means Bloodlust," I said, not saying its real name.

"When did you get it?" he asked.

"Put it away," my grandfather said. "And, take the new dagger out. See what name is with it."

"I was six," I said, putting it back into my sheath. "Demon daggers have names?" I asked, causing my grandfather to nod his head.

"Yes," he said.

I picked up the dagger again and was rather surprised that it didn't try to force me to use it or to destroy the other magical dagger that was at my side.

I pulled the black and silver sheath off the dagger and studied the black blade to see what it was.

"Shřïv," the dagger whispered. "Death."

I bit back a snort. "Of course," I muttered, putting the sheath back over the blade.

"Well?" my grandfather asked. "What is its name?"

"Death," I replied, looking at my grandfather. "The dagger's name is death."