73: 73 Your Son (AVOT)

73 Your Son (AVOT)

Daisy had tried to flee multiple times, but every escape route seemed to be thwarted by supernatural forces. It was as though Lysander was omnipresent; candles ignited on their own in the dark, doors swung open and shut without touch, and the window she shattered magically repaired itself. Jumping from it had crossed her mind, but the height promised a deadly escape.1

Dread gnawed at her: What did Lysander want? The suffocating silence and isolation were driving her to the brink, and her heart ached with worry for Rhain.

Drawing a shaky breath, she resolved not to be an easy captive. Marching to the door, she pounded on it with all her might. "Let me out!" She persisted until, suddenly, a gust of cold wind brushed past her, and there he was, Lysander, standing imposingly before her.

"Where's Rhain?" She shot at him, her voice strained. "Did you go to him?"

Lysander's face remained inscrutable. "Why would I?"

"He's your son," she retorted.

A hint of intrigue flickered in his eyes. "Did Rhain ever mention why he married you? That you're the Vessel?" He asked, almost nonchalantly.

She blinked in confusion, her mind racing. "What are you talking about?"

Lysander's tone turned chillingly casual. "Rhain had intentions to kill you. As the Vessel, you possess a unique life force capable of resurrecting the dead. That's why you've always had such a fierce survival instinct." He explained. "He planned to channel your life force into his brother, to bring him back."

Daisy felt as though the floor had dropped out beneath her. This couldn't be true.

"Why should I trust your words?" she challenged.

Lysander raised an eyebrow. "Why do you think I've brought you here?"

She swallowed hard, realizing the gravity of the implication. He meant to use her as a sacrifice?

"His brother?" She murmured, trying to piece together the puzzle.

Lysander tilted his head, studying her with an amused expression. "Surprised he hasn't told you? It seems he keeps secrets."

She bristled defensively, "We've not been married long. Besides, how can you be so sure I'm the Vessel?"

Lysander began to circle the room, his movements predatory. "Rhain possesses an innate skill that identifies the Vessel. I just… investigated." He continued pacing around the room. "I did think at first that you couldn't be the vessel since he married you. Why would he go through such trouble? But then, it didn't seem to be that bad of an idea. That way he could keep you close at all times."

He ceased his restless movement and fixed her with an intense stare. "I have my ways of discerning truths, little secrets that can't remain concealed from me."

"You might be mistaken. I am no Vessel," she retorted, her voice quivering slightly.

His lips curled into a wry smile. "Wishing it doesn't make it so."

She squared her shoulders, fighting back the dread. "So, if you're so certain, why am I still alive? Why haven't you carried out the task?"

"There are rites to be observed, preparations to be made. Such things take time," he replied with an eerie calm.

She pressed on, "So you fought Rhain, so you could awaken his brother for him?" Her tone dripped skepticism.

His laughter, smooth and chilling, echoed in the room. "Astute. However, my motivations aren't rooted in Rhain's desires. Though it would've simplified matters had he stuck to his initial plans."

Her frustration mounting, she demanded, "Then why? Why go to these lengths?"

"There's something I seek from his brother," he admitted, his gaze unwavering.

"What could be so crucial that you'd tear your own family apart?"

His eyes darkened, and his jaw tensed. I don't owe anyone an explanation."

Daisy took a steadying breath and said, "I think I see it now..."

His eyebrow arched inquisitively.

"It's clear to me now… You harbor envy towards your own son. Unable to find love yourself, it must wound you to see Rhain forming a life with someone."

He seemed momentarily taken aback, his face contorting in disbelief. "Jealous? Me?"

She surged forward, driven by a surge of insight, "You think love is singular in nature? Isn't a son's love valuable? You would readily forfeit it…"

His laughter was bitter, mocking, "Love? Your notions are naive. You prattle about things you scarcely understand."

True, she didn't have the full picture but refused to back down, probing further, trying to uncover a vulnerability, an emotional chord to strike. She wished she had asked Rhain more about the complex figure before her. "What do you truly desire? Is it of greater value to you than Rhain?"

He exhaled heavily and took a seat. "It is of paramount importance. The very survival of our kind hangs in the balance."

She locked eyes with him, her voice filled with quiet intensity, "You claim to shield your kind, yet you shatter your own kin."

He snapped, his voice cold as ice, "He's NOT my son!"

With rising vehemence, she shot back, "You turned him! That makes him your son! Perhaps not by human standards, but still, your blood flows in him. I can't fathom how someone you've molded and known for centuries can be any less significant than a flesh-and-blood offspring you've only known for a mere fraction of that time."

The room became heavy with silence, "You're not wrong," He said at last surprisingly. "I don't wish to harm him, but it won't be the end for him. Time has a potent power to heal, even the most grievous wounds. Our bond spans centuries, like you said yourself. Your connection with him is but a mere fragment of that time."

So he thought Rhain would forget her and with time he would heal and reconcile with Lysander after what he did? 

"You don't know that," she said. 

"I do. Time has its own magic. Even killing your entire family is something you will heal from." 

What was he talking about? Did he kill his family? 

As if knowing what she was thinking, he replied. "When I turned, the hunger was uncontrollable. It took over. My father, my younger brother and sister…" He didn't finish and stopped there, his eyes becoming even more distant as he seemed to recall. 

She was horrified just thinking of the image. Did he really do that? How did he… live with it? 

"I'm sorry," she said, her heart aching. "But healing doesn't necessarily mean forgetting. You remember, still. Will you do that to Rhain?" Her eyes were tearing up now. "Don't…please." She pleaded. "I don't mind dying. I will only feel the pain once. But don't do it to Rhain." And her mother. 

She couldn't help the tears now. What would be of them? 

He met her gaze, his eyes an unfathomable abyss. And then, without a word, he disappeared, leaving her alone to cry. 

*** *** ***

The moment Tiberius approached Rhain's residence, the metallic tang of blood alerted him that something was terribly amiss. Pushing open the door, he was met with chaos: the interior was in disarray, blood splatters marring the walls and floor. Wounded wolves lay scattered about, their life force slowly ebbing away.

Ravager allowed him into his mind to see what had happened. Lysander. It wasn't even the hunters. This was severely bad. He would have more of a chance with the hunters than Lysander. The man was brutal if he truly did this to Rhain. He shouldn't be surprised. Lysander was cold but he had hoped the warmth he had shown RHain would outweigh the coldness. 

But someone else had also come here after Lysander. Tiberius guessed hunters. Ravager must have been out and about searching for Rhain then. Feeding the other wolves so they would heal, he linked with one of them to see if they had seen any hunters while Ravanger was out. 

He saw them searching the house and then leaving when they didn't find either Daisy or Rhain. 

What was he supposed to do now? Going after Lysander was a death mission. 

His thoughts were interrupted as an immediate sense of danger prickled at his senses. The wolves growled and rose defensively, their body language taut with anticipation. Could the hunters have returned?

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