The Reaper's Wicked Obsession
Chapter 88: A Line That Should Not Be Crossed

Chapter 88: A Line That Should Not Be Crossed

"But sweet sweet Isadora..." Kraven said as he closed the distance between them. "Is a line you shouldn’t cross."

Rav looked away, fists clenching at his sides.

"You could try to interfere, but it’d be a waste of time. It won’t make a difference in the end." He backed away, eyes swept to Logi who remained still, and Nyssa who blinked away the tears.

"Enjoy your dinner." He turned his back and walked away.

The heavy sound of his footsteps echoing in the hall, until there was none.

Nyssa released a sharp intake of breath. "H-His powers, I could feel it." She gulped.

"The seal doesn’t work anymore," Logi said.

"What?" She looked at Rav, but seeing no reaction, her chest burned in anger. "You both knew this and kept this from me? We should do something about it, we can’t let—"

"Alda! He’s a shadow weaver, nobody’s heard or seen one. This is not a case we can just think and fix. Kraven’s fate is like a blank sheet!" Logi yelled, rising to his feet.

Logi was more frustrated with this situation than any of them were. "And he’s right. We’re so consumed with Isadora and we forgot our position. We’ve got to get our acts together!" He raised his hand, pausing with a finger up in the air. "That is what is important... for now."

"If his powers keep growing, his thirst will too..." Rav voiced, rubbing his bloody hands, they hurt from the punches but his chest hurt more.

"What should we do? He can’t control it all the time."

"Oh Nyssa, trust me, he’s a master at it."

"But for how long? We won’t just worry about the Court on our neck but our Leader!"

"He has been with us for winters, this place has stood for winters without him going berserk." Logi pointed out, sounding hopeful about the situation and at the same time trying to convince himself.

Nyssa sighed heavily, rubbing her forehead.

"We trust him and do our duties... we owe him that much," he added, trying to keep their faith.

Yet, internally he felt like yanking his hair off their roots. If they knew what he did, they wouldn’t worry only about his sanity.

~♧~

Isadora groaned in her sleep, her head moving left and right. Sweat beaded her face and a frown took over from the slightest discomfort.

The voice... was back.

The one that called her name in her sleep and warned her about the shadows.

Yet, this time they weren’t about warnings or a gentle call, they disturbed her, and it got harder to breathe properly with every sound that echoed through her ears.

’Isadora.’

She groaned, turning her head to the left, her hands squeezing against the fur sheets.

’Isadora.’

She turned to the right.

’Isadora.’

She faced upright, her breathing becoming unstable.

’Come!’

She gasped awake, flashing her eyes open, her heart thrashing in her chest heavily, she felt like she had just run a mile.

The last time she heard these voices it wasn’t as intense and—demanding.

A dry sensation found her throat, forcing her body from the bed. She walked to the table to grab the wooden bottle, pouring water into the cup to drink.

She chugged everything in one go before sighing heavily, her eyes still felt heavy and her body was tired and sore.

She had trained with Vanya for hours nonstop and just when she finally thought she would have some decent sleep... a certain voice wouldn’t let her.

Her butt pressed on the bed, she gathered her long hair on one side and ran her hand through the soft strands.

"I know what troubles your sleep now..."

Isadora froze, her body turning cold at the very moment she sensed another presence in the room.

"You hear voices..."

Slowly, and carefully, she turned her head toward a figure seated in the chair just beyond the window, where the night lights barely reached.

The dim glow cast shadows over his parted thighs before her gaze followed the line of his arm, resting on the armrest, fingers curled around a wooden bottle.

The heavy stench from it was none other than her most despised drink—Fae ale.

Isadora gave a side eye to her weapon on the table but three feet away. She wouldn’t be fast enough to reach it.

"I’m not here to play, love, you can leave the dagger out of this," he said in a deep soft voice. It was different from how he usually spoke.

He sounded drunk.

A sober Kraven was harder to deal with but a drunk one? Isadora feared for what he might do. She had to play her cards carefully and not poke a drunk vermin.

"Why are you here?" she asked softly, easing, when she felt his aura was not in the slightest threatening, if anything it was calmer than she had ever felt.

"For quiet..." he replied in an even softer and deeper thought, almost sleepy. The sound of it caused her heart to race.

"It’s too loud," he added. "It still is."

"Why is it loud?"

Her heartbeat spiked when he rose to his feet, his massive height was intimidating and the room got smaller just by his presence.

Isadora took a heavy gulp as he made slow steps toward. Her body froze when he took a seat beside her, the bed creaking under his height.

The light was finally on his face, but hitting just his side profile where she saw a purple bruise. What happened to him?

Her hand itched to reach for it but she refrained from doing such a gesture and instead squeezed her fingers against the sheets.

"Did you miss me, love?" he asked, reaching for her hair and taking a whiff in bliss as his eyes closed, revealing how long his dark eyelashes were.

Isadora ignored his question and asked. "Did you come here for me to heal you?"

"Your honeyed scent..." he murmured, opening his eyes as a predatory look contoured his face. "It’s mixed with his now."