4

“Kaisha,” he began, his voice low and measured. “You know the seriousness of what you’ve done. The flower you had, it was not just a simple ingredient for a potion. It was the key to helping us survive. And now, because of your carelessness, it is lost to us. It will be another thousand years before it blooms again.”

I felt a lump form in my throat. “I’m sorry,” I murmured. “I didn’t mean to—“

He slammed his hand on the table, interrupting me. “Your apologies mean nothing! You have put us all in danger!”

The gravity of my mistake hit me like a ton of bricks. The flower had been more than just a potion ingredient; it was going to be used as a weapon. And I had been so nonchalant with my care of it. But in my defense, I had been unaware of just how important it had been. No one had told me it was a bloom that could possibly mean life or death.

“The Lycans will pay for their interference. But that is not your concern. Your concern is to find a way to make this right!” He leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving me.

“But how?” I whispered. “I don’t know how to fix this!”

Redakai’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I thought I saw something flicker in them, something other than anger. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how…you manifested fire on the tip of your finger, manifest the fucking flower,” he roared. Then, calming, he raked his fingers through his hair, before shrugging, he stated, “I don’t know how you’re going tog fix it either, but you will come up with a way. And you will not fail me again. Understood?”

I nodded, my heart racing. There was something about the way he talked to me that sent a shiver down my spine, something that made me want to both cower, and stand tall at the same time. The air between us grew thick, charged with an energy I didn’t quite understand.

He leaned closer, his breath warm against my cheek. “I own you, Kaisha. You will serve this coven, and you will do anything to protect us. Anything I demand of you. Do you understand?”

My hackles rose at the phrase “I own you’, no one owned me, but the words hung in the air, heavy with a promise that made my stomach clench. What was he saying? What was he asking of me? I could feel his power, his dominance, wrapping around me like a vice. And despite the fear that gripped me, I felt something else, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. It was like a storm brewing inside me, a mix of excitement and dread.

I looked up at him, my voice barely above a whisper. “I understand.”

He leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips. “Do you? I doubt it." Then with a wave of his hand, he dismissed me.

I stumbled out of the room, my legs shaking. His words echoed in my mind, sending a shiver down my spine. ‘You will do anything I demand of you.’

As I moved through the halls and rooms, it was unavoidable not to notice the coven was in an uproar, vampires and witches alike whispered about the lost flower. I kept my head down, avoiding their eyes. I couldn’t bear the weight of their accusations. The flower had been of such importance to them. And I had failed them.

As night fell, the tension in the air grew, and I began fearing for my safety.

Days turned into weeks, and I continued wracking my brain to come up with a way to rectify my mistake. Redakai’s temper grew shorter, and the coven grew more restless. I spent every waking moment searching, praying that I would come up with a way to repair what I had done before it was too late. And all the while, the feeling of Redakai’s anger with me, grew stronger.

One evening, I heard two raised voices, male and female, coming from the chamber where Redakai held his council meetings. The door was ajar, and I couldn’t help but listen.

“We need to act now, Redakai!” shouted Angaleen. “She led a damn Olympus straight to our fucking door, and they are sure to attack soon!"

I froze mid-step, my hand hovering above the doorknob to my chamber. I had no idea, I had been followed.

Redakai’s chilling voice floated through the crack. “Calm yourself, Angaleen. The girl is a witch; she had no way of knowing the Lycans were so close.”

“And what of the flower?” she hissed. “The one she so conveniently ruined?”

My heart hammered in my chest as the reality of their words set in. They were discussing me. And the flower.

I didn’t dare to move, the floorboards beneath my feet threatening to give me away.

“It’s gone. And with it, our advantage over the Lycans. But it changes nothing. They will come, with or without it. And we will be ready!”

Their conversation grew heated, the words lost in a cacophony of anger and accusations. But one thing was clear—a thousand years would pass before there would be another—and no amount of magic could grow another one.

The door to the chamber slammed shut, and I retreated into the shadows, my heart racing. The reality of my situation sank in like a cold stone in my stomach.

I slipped into my chamber, the weight of my failure heavy upon me. The candles flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls. I felt his eyes on me even when he wasn’t there, his presence a constant reminder of the debt I owed.