Twenty three

OLAMIDE

"Wake up, Olamide." Her familiar voice roused me. It was the porcelain woman. Her voice albeit foreign felt so familiar. It felt like home. My eyes flickered open. I proceeded to survey my surroundings. The air was chilly and the gust that caressed against my prickly skin was strong. I was atop a bridge and just the thought of looking down made my stomach churn. This place...

"You remember this place, don't you?"

I whimpered and turned to my left; where the voice had originated from and sitting at the edge of the bridge was a woman with skin white as a drained corpse and hair black as death. Her orbs laid intently on me for a moment before her neck twisted back to the roaring waters.

"Who are you?" I demanded. For the time being, it was the only question that seemed to matter.

"You didn't answer me." She said, ignoring my question. "Is it because you still have nightmares about what you did?"

I swallowed still refusing to look down. I had tried to heal but remembering Deji's death had suddenly brought up ugly memories of my own creation. I believed the porcelain woman was one of them. Usually, it was confined to my dreams but this one was different. The last thing I remember was those strange lights enveloping me before everything went dark. I believed it was my mind playing tricks on me. I was certain it was my grief consuming me.

"I do have nightmares about what I did." I reflected, accepting grief's game. "I'm probably having one right now."

"Perhaps," the woman commented, swinging her legs as she kept her eyes peeled below. "But why did you do it? Your brother might have died but you could have brought him justice. You could have lived for him but you decided to choose the easy way out. You decided to take your own life!"

The water crashed against one of the bridge's pillars causing the platform to stagger. Perhaps it was in my mind but the occurrence made me fall forward and in seconds I was staring down at the pearly waters that once consumed me. My tears trickled into the waters as awful memories came flooding back.

"You can't judge me... You don't know what it did to me..."

Deji's death destroyed me and with the cops were bent on digging up my parentage, everything was crumbling. To top it all, my family back in Nigeria was unreachable. Taking my own life seemed like the easy route out. Escape from this cruel world to the haven we were promised didn't seem like such an awful thing to do.

"...The case was going stale. They were going to find out I got into the country illegally. I just wanted..."

"All the pain to stop?" The porcelain maiden chipped in for me. "Well, I think what you did was rash and rather stupid but thank heavens I was there to save you."

"Save me?" I scoffed. "I didn't ask to be saved. And you certainly didn't save me. I guessed something within me just wanted to survive so bad that I conjured you."

The woman turned to face me whilst sliding off the protective rails. "You did not conjure me Olamide. I saved you."

Again I scoffed. I wanted to be rid of this; my brain playing therapist. My life was still very doomed. I was mated to a werewolf with many enemies and now had to spend my life living as his prisoner.

"You were sure to die that night Miss. Armstrong but I found you." She continued, caressing my face with a warm smile. "I saw your vibrant future and decided such a bright life did not deserve to go to waste. Not when there was so much potential. So I stitched you."

Her touch felt real. The intensity in her charcoal eyes was frighteningly filled with emotions. My mind struggled to accept it. But when you have seen men morph into the unimaginable and witches cast devil magic, your rationale was sure to fail. Thinking about the night I jumped from the bridge and sank to the bottom waiting for death to canoe me to haven, I realized the porcelain woman was the last thing I saw while I was conscious. She had been the one to whisper that I live. What if it wasn't a trick my head was trying to play to survive? What if... Suddenly, I remembered my thought about the hands of fate having something to do with this. Was this lady in those books too?

"A bright future you say," I began, withdrawing from her touch. "Last time I checked, a bright future did not consist of a werewolf trying to murder you and being dragged to a world you want nothing of. So tell me what is bright about me, Miss?"

The porcelain woman retracted her finger and frowned like she was finally living a nightmare of her own. Her eyes shimmered like the darkest pearls as she spoke with a cracked voice. "Your mate, Alpha Jason."

If I wasn't so numb, I would probably laugh. Jason was my light? The devil would serve as a better replacement. She must have caught a glint of doubt in my mind because she grabbed my hand as she continued. "I see the doubt in your eyes, Olamide. But believe me, your mate is your light. Your purpose in this world is to end him."

Shock assaulted my chest making me take a step back and push the woman's vile touch once more. A lot of absurd things had been said to me before but this held the cake.

"Are you saying I kill him?"

"It is your destiny." She nodded affirmatively.

Jason was not entirely a good person but he wasn't the worst, was he? I believed the kind of world he grew up in shaped who he was. Hurting him could be a welcome idea if it would earn me my freedom but killing someone, whoever it might be was entirely out of the question. I was no murderer.

"I am not a monster."

The gust blew against the ghost-white woman's dress making the atmosphere eerier. I wondered if refusing her would have dire consequences for me. After all, I had no idea where I was or how to get out. I was treading on dangerous waters. The woman stared at me with narrowed dark eyes. It felt like they were ripping apart my defenses and digging into my depth to find the core of my very being.

"You are having compassion for a monster!"

I was so close to blabbing that some woman in the skies thought it right to curse me with a bond that would make even a serial killer the perfect lover but I kept my trap shut. She seemed to have much to say and I was eager to hear it.

"... Have you wondered why you could hear Alpha's Sofiane's thoughts?"

Her query caught my attention. Whoever she was, she knew of Sofiane, my secret and perhaps the much-needed answer I needed. The gust blew stronger and the sight in front of me faded. The alphast I threaded on turned to dirt, broken twigs, and rotting leaves. In front of me was Alpha Sofiane, a younger version of him holding unto a woman in white as he cried over her bloodied and battered body. I looked at the limp woman's face and went blue when the flicker of recognition hit.

"The name is Candice Blossom and I was the first mate of Alpha Sofiane and just in case you are wondering how I ended up dead," Her cold gaze met mine. "Alpha Jason killed me."

I glared back at Candice. Was this sight supposed to pull me to her side? I suppose she believed I was stupid enough not to consider that she could control the narrative. The only truth I could consider from this strange woman was that she was truly dead. That, and that she wanted revenge on Jason. So much that she chose to possess and save my life six months ago. I looked back at the grotesque scene. Some of the blood that the ground soaked in wasn't her own. I walked closer to observe and I noticed a golden goblet placed on what seemed like an altar. The altar itself was a mass of stones, debris, and branches. Judging by how it looked, I suspected it was self erected. Beside it was what looked like a carved-out spider strung unto a chord. I glanced into the goblet and realized it was filled to the brim with blood.

"What is all these?" I asked Candice.

"I was preparing for a ritual." She answered. "Jason knew he couldn't take on a Blossom witch by just brute force. The bastard had to be strategic. I don't know who told him where to find me and when to strike but he knew exactly when I was going to begin the ritual. All it took was a swift slash for him to end my life and take everything away from me." Her voice cracked and she was forced to stop. The top-notch acting could almost make the devilish of men feel some sort of compassion for her but not me, her story was missing a valuable piece. "...I wish I knew better then.

"Earlier, you said that I had a vibrant future. One with potential that you could not allow to go waste. While that might sound chivalrous of you, I do feel the need to mention that it is quite uncanny that you randomly jumped into my body of all bodies and it definitely isn't a coincidence that I turned out to be Alpha Jason's mate." I gave her a calculating look before dumping the entirety of my theory. "You intend to use me as a pawn in a silly revenge game, don't you?"

Candice snorted. Her expression turning dark. "Perhaps. But you would be dead without me Olamide. I saved you from the pathetic ending life threw at you and got you this far. You–"

"Owe you one?" I cut in. "No. I don't owe you a dime witch. So get me out of here or unstitch yourself from me." I paused to gauge her reaction. It ranged from anger to frustration. She could not do it. She was stuck with me. "Unless you can't do that. You are stuck with me."

"Bravo," Candice complimented. "I was sure some sob story would do for me to escape the confines of your mind. But you are certainly no pixie dreamer. You are right. I can't unstitch myself and yes, I did chose you precisely because of the future you could have had." She strode over, her eyes glued on me with intent. "But if I hadn't stepped in that night you tried to kill yourself, you would have died. The thing about the future is it is always changing. Nothing is set in stone."

"I don't want to hear whatever you have to say, witch!" I screamed. "I am sick and tired of the essence of my being having to be tossed around and played with by werewolves, witches even vampires. I don't care what tragedy befell you because I have my fair banter to deal with. Jason might be a monster but there is no way in fresh hell that he would kill you if you didn't deserve it and something tells me you knew what was coming to you. That is why you were prepared. You prepped up my body to jump into then picked the perfect time to pop out of the shadows in hopes that you would finally get your revenge but that is none of my business. The beef you have to settle with Jason shouldn't even exist because you are dead and dead things should stay dead."

"Salty," Candice commented. "I guess the same has to apply to your brother then."

"What...is that supposed to mean?" I stepped back, having a detailed flashback of my hushed-up conversation with Jason and the text I had read on his cell. I swallowed as I tried to stop myself from shaking. I was being paranoid, I told myself. Deji was dead. I had seen him in a body bag. I had buried him.

Candice stepped closer upon noticing that bringing up my brother had weakened my resolve. Her eyes remained fixated with mine as she approached. "And I am not just doing this for revenge Olamide. I also have to save Sofiane."

My mouth twitched involuntarily hearing her change the subject. What did she mean when she implied that my brother was supposed to stay dead. It took everything I had not to strangle the bitch for making me go through another minute of hell.

"What did you mean...about my brother?" I inquired through gritted teeth despite knowing fully well that the answer she might give me could be one that would destroy the peace I had made with myself.

As a devilish smile spread across Candice Blossom's face, I could not help but consider the chances that all those folklores about witches being ugly vicious souls who fed on innocent people being true.

"Your brother? Why don't you find out?"

"Why won't you tell me?" I countered.

"Because you don't believe a word I say. So I suggest you do the digging yourself. When you are ready to accept the painful truth, I'll be right here."

The image flashed again before my eyes. Deji, lying inside a body bag, drained of blood and with an expression of trauma permanently printed on his face. I shook my head, trying to banish the memory. It didn't work. It never did. Candice might have managed to infiltrate my head with mention of my brother but I had Jason's relentless secrets to blame for that. I absolutely refused to accept that my brother would be alive, no matter the state he was in, and refuse to see me. Deji would never hurt me like that.

"They are here," Candice said abruptly, breaking my train of thoughts.

"Who?"

"The bastard who tried to exorcise me."

The gust blew again, clearing the picture of Sofiane and Candice. There was a voice in the wind. It was calling my name. Candice looked on as swirls of magic erupted from the sky like a tornado and reached out for my frail being. I accepted it as it twirled over my body and engulfed me whole. As the magic lifted me off the ground, my ears perked at something Candice blurted out.

"Say hi to my brother for me."

***

Two hours before Olamide collapsed

David advanced the house of Primrose; the biggest coven in the North. The same one he and his sister had been shunned from. This was a first. David was fine with carrying the shame Candice had brought upon the blossom family line for her betrayal but the thought of knowing she could wreak another havoc in the supernatural society was too overbearing for the poor lad to bear. He got scornful looks right and left as he approached the mansion where the coven meetings were held. That was where the elders usually gathered. They were the very person he sought audience with. If some high and mighty warlock didn't take him it upon himself to finish the vagabond first. It was sad that David was right. A shadowy figure crept closer to him before his defenses caught on. David tried to mutter a spell before whoever it was attacked him but his Latin was too slow. A blow landed in his face making his bone crunch. The punch must have been infused with magic because the force of it sent David flying six feet away.

David groaned in pain, spitting the residue of blood that had packed in his mouth. His head snapped to his assaulter's path and he cursed realizing it was Elder Quentin's son.

"What the fuck is a blossom witch doing here?" He spat, cracking his knuckles and muttering another enhancement spell as he approached David. "Do you want to die?"

"I seek audience with your father." David moaned, trying his best to stand to his feet but it was extremely difficult when his vision continued to fade in and out.

David's reply seemed to anger Elder Quentin's son as he charged at him like a berserker with the intention to kick David square in the stomach but David was quicker. He was still a Blossom witch after all. His kick hit something but it was not David. A wry smile forced its way to David's lips as his assaulter's legs crunched.

"Fuck!" He shrieked in pain, the dark swirl in his eyes turning red. "I'm going to kill you, David."

"We both know I'm stronger. Now that you are relaxed, I can talk. I need to see Elder Quentin."

His eyes narrowed. "My father would not want to see you."

"Perhaps." David agreed, reaching into the depths of his pocket to retrieve leverage that was sure to catch the attention of those snobby elders. The cut-out rune reeked of ancient magic. He palmed the spider rune forward enjoying the look of shock on the face of Elder Quentin's son.

"That can't be real..."

"I thought so too." David chipped in. "But if my sister was mad enough to betray the code for this. I am certain relics exist and she was hoping to hunt one down."

AUTHOR NOTE: So I missed an episode so I had no choice but to stitch it with this. You are not missing anything so no need to worry.