The Crimson Snow (A Realm of Chaos and Void #1)

Chapter 20

The Sneaky Fox

Sneaky little thing, come out and play,

Wouldn’t you like to be painted in red today?

Retrieved from Evren Wraithwood’s journal.

Seraphine Ashcroft

Seraphine was running again. She was overwhelmed by the feeling of being chased, like so many times before. Still, the forest seemed familiar now, so she turned to the left and ran toward a path. She knew it would lead her to some waterfalls.

Her waterfalls.

Their waterfalls.

She ran and peered behind her, searching for the predator she had faced in previous nightmares she could now recall. She saw no one, so she took a breath and looked at the beautiful waterfall, blue as the sky itself. She neared the edge to look at herself in the water.

Maybe this was a dream.

Perhaps I’ve been killed, and this is the afterlife?

She almost laughed at that.

The reflection that greeted Seraphine had the same crimson eyes as her. Still, the woman staring back at her was someone else. She had seen her before somewhere.

Then, the sky turned dark and red, and the waterfalls blackened.

When Seraphine looked at the reflection again, the woman mouthed two words. Suddenly, the world became black, and screams filled the air.

Her screams.

Seraphine opened her eyes. She breathed rapidly, disoriented and confused. A nightmare.

She moved to stand up, but a sharp pain throbbed in her head. Curse you, berry roses.

She was supposed to get answers from Evren but somehow ended up indulging in those delicious fruit. She took her pillow to her face and screamed into it. “This is not going as I expected.”

Wait a second.

She focused on the pillow. Then, Seraphine realized she had no idea where she was and why she had her own pillow. In fact, her own bed.

Where in the world am I?

She stood up from the bed, which was massive and cream-colored, and glanced around. The bedroom was all cream and black, with crystals all around and walls covered in books. She noticed a desk and a wardrobe. The room seemed bigger than her cottage in the human world.

At that, she stopped and wondered about Aeliana. Is she well? Seraphine wondered if her sister missed her or hated her. She shook her head and decided to push those thoughts to the back of her mind. She was emotionally unattached and planned to keep it that way.

Wandering around, she found that the wardrobe was full of elegant dresses. Did this room belong to one of Evren’s lovers? Not that she cared.

Liar, liar, liar.

Then, she scanned the books on the walls. Mostly fairy tales. She smiled. There were some interesting ones she might love to read. Maybe she could borrow one or two.

“I must be in the library,”

she said to herself. The decor and style matched the library.

Then, Seraphine felt the need to see Evren. She barely remembered anything from last night, and she had many questions. Not to mention, she felt better. There was ice in her veins, but it was manageable. She would never say it aloud, but Evren did well in making sure she ate something. Hunger was no longer ruling her.

With that, she put her hair up a little and took one soft black dress from the wardrobe. What could this be made of? It fit perfectly, and she turned to the door but stopped once something caught her eye.

She moved back and looked at the frame of her bed. Something akin to shock was bubbling in her throat.

Softly, she ran her fingers along the frame, detailing the crafted foxes. They were just like the ones she had in the cottage. No, exactly like the ones Leander had painted in her room.

Impossible.

Coincidences were common, but Seraphine was starting to sense that whatever happened to her was far from accidental. She took a step back. Why would there be a room with the same drawings as in her cottage?

Then, the two words from her dream returned to Seraphine, and she wondered if they were connected.

“Lady Wraithwood?”

Raggart said from the door to her room.

Seraphine hadn’t heard him enter. She stole a look at him, arching a delicate brow. “What are you doing here?”

Small as he was, he still appeared like a nightmarish thing. “I heard screams, so I came to check if my lady was in trouble.”

He moved nervously. “I did knock a few seconds ago, but there was no answer. I decided to enter. Still, I do apologize for intruding.”

Seraphine sighed and decided not to correct Raggart again about the title he had been using for her. “It is fine, Raggart. I appreciate your concern. I might still be a little sleepy. Hope I did not trouble your rest, Raggart,”

she said sincerely.

He smiled, and his sharp teeth shone a little. “Not in the least. And if I may say, you look regal in that black dress.”

“Thank you. I hope the owner won’t mind.”

Raggart glanced at the floor and cleared his throat. “I can assure you she won’t mind at all.”

That piqued Seraphine’s attention. “Ah, so they do have an owner.”

“That is not—”

The little creature cut himself off. “I mean they do, but it is not—”

“I could not care less about it,”

she interrupted him. “Now that I have you here, I need to find ‘Mr. Wraithwood.’ Can you lead me to him?”

The creature seemed happy not to have to explain anything else. Raggart motioned for her to follow him.

As soon as she exited the room, Seraphine confirmed she was still in the Mystweave Library. The room was in a hidden hallway on the fifth floor in a labyrinth of shelves and books. They moved to another oddly-looking hallway that she had never seen before. She could see minor rays of light coming from the windows.

Raggart stopped in front of a bookshelf. “Here. It is still early, so I assume—”

Raggart started, but Seraphine cut him off again.

“Is he... inside a book? Or am I going mad because I cannot see anything but a pile of books here?”

The little thing laughed. “It is a hidden door. The bookshelf here. When you are ready, just remove the book that has the symbol of a key.”

With that, Raggart ran like this was the last place he wanted to be, leaving her alone.

“Well, that was helpful,”

she muttered to herself and spotted a book that had a small key painted on it.

She removed the book from there as Raggart had instructed, and the bookshelf moved to the left, revealing a regular door. She sighed. So theatrical.

Then, she pushed the door open, ready to get some answers.

Still, Seraphine was not expecting the room to be this massive and comfortable. She was not expecting to see Evren, shirtless, lying on his massive bed. Asleep.

This could be my best opportunity. Maybe she could use a heavy book and casually drop it—slap it—on his face. No one would know.

It will be totally worth it.

Yet, she decided to look around to see if she could find something of value. There were books just like in her room, but his desk was bigger, with a bunch of papers scattered everywhere—maps, drawings, scribbles of some kind. Someone needs to ask Raggart to tidy up this place. She glanced at the drawings and maps, stopping on a paper containing a list.

Various names, perhaps 80 or so, were scratched out. There were notes beside each name.

“Died in her sleep.”

“Killed by her friend.”

“Jumped off a cliff.”

Still, one name at the top was not scratched out. There was no cause of death, but the letters were hard to read, like someone had poured liquid over them many times and rewritten the name. It was hard to read, but she could make out the name Seiren Wraithwood Elaris.

Was she the owner of this dress? Somehow, she felt as if her heart was one degree colder. Shocked, she took a step back.

Unknowingly, she hit Evren’s bed. She turned around and stared at him, still fully asleep.

Seraphine could never deny that Evren was absolutely beautiful in an eerie and mysterious way. Still, he seemed so peaceful sleeping that she wondered if he truly was Evren, no concern on his face or that stern and stubborn bow on his lips.

Dreamy.

That one degree in minus warmed.

Seraphine did not miss his well-toned and lean body, and the scars on his chest were oddly appealing. She wondered what had happened. Now that she thought about it, he did not seem much of a fighter—a warrior, yes, but not in the sense that most would think. Evren was a mastermind, the whisper that triggered the gun and the blade to draw blood.

Again, not that she cared.

Then, her eyes stopped on two tattoos on his arm—moving, alive, like smoke on his skin. She could not detail them, as if they were hiding from her. She moved closer, trying to catch them, but stopped, her eyes focusing on a small, mostly hidden tattoo. This one seemed different, alive too but somehow unafraid to be seen, static. What is it?

A feeling of déjà vu overtook her, as if she had seen it or perhaps been in this position before, and she did the most obvious thing. Seraphine neared him. Putting her hands on his bed, she sat down softly, trying not to wake him, but she could already feel the warmth coming from his skin. Arching down her head a little, she could see more of the tattoo. It was large and red. There were some symbols she could not make sense of, but there was a tail connecting to something on his neck. If I could see his neck a little bit closer...

Her hand moved as if enchanted toward the tattoo, and her pulse quickened. She imagined tracing that tattoo with her fingers, an unfamiliar heat pooling in her core. What is wrong with me?

Before Seraphine could even dwell on that, someone pulled her by the waist and pushed her right on top of Evren’s body. She was ready to scream and fight her way out of the nice and warm body below her, but before she could even move a finger, Evren laughed.

Oh, Ancients, help me now.

Drowsy, he said, “Well, I don’t mind this method of yours for waking up people.”

She looked at him and slapped herself internally for getting caught. I won’t see the end of this. His eyes were a little hooded but open, stormy but extremely beautiful. She could accept that—not to him, but as a sad reality and undeserving for him.

Yawning like a cat, one hand fell close to her thigh, and the other one was slowly moving up her waist, leaving small trails of fiery kisses. “Unless you use this with other people. In that case, I would mind and probably curse them all.”

He smiled fully, showing his dimples, and her heart sped a beat once more.

What a misery to be so enchantingly repulsive in the best way possible.

Evren’s dimples deepened, and his eyes softened on her.

Take my soul, Aurum.