Shades of Arcane: Beneath the Surface

Beneath the shroud of night, Gwydion ventured forth, driven by an unstoppable urge to find Fiona. The peril that lay ahead was significant, but he could not deter himself. Fortune, however, turned against him when Caelan and his patrol caught sight of him peeking into Fiona’s family home, watching them share moments of love and warmth. The instant he turned, he found himself staring down the lethal blade of an English Longsword, forged by vampires with a special steel capable of vanquishing even the most powerful of occult beings.

A fierce struggle ensued, but outnumbered and still weakened from previous battles, his body bearing the marks of healing wounds, Gwydion was eventually overpowered and subdued. Chains clinked as they shackled him with special binds, crafted to incarcerate the strongest and most powerful of the occult. Clamped around his wrists and ankles, these restraints not only prevented mages and vampires from porting or shapeshifting, but also bound werewolves to their human form, subduing all powers of any occult creeds, ensuring no escape. He was dragged back to the castle, a prisoner once more.

Staring straight ahead, perched on a wooden chair, Gwydion’s eyes, burning with unvoiced anger, followed Cesare’s pacing. The tension in the room was palpable. Caelan stood nearby like a statue, his silvery eyes boring holes into the mage he clearly despised with fervent passion. The air was thick with anticipation, every breath heavy with the weight of unspoken animosities.

Everyone winced as the heavy oak door burst open, and a man sauntered into the room with the distinctive swagger of a seasoned rock musician. His shaggy dark brown hair fell in unruly waves just past his ears, the front strands often tumbling into his piercing light green eyes. The casual yet confident way he carried himself contrasted sharply with the tension in the room. His well-worn leather jacket and frayed jeans spoke of a life lived on the edge, while his almost arrogant smirk added to his rebellious charm. Light stubble covered his jawline and cheeks, enhancing his bad boy appeal.

With a deliberate, almost nonchalant gesture, he kicked the door shut behind him, the resounding thud echoing through the room as if to punctuate his entrance.

Gwydion’s gaze shifted to Blaine, his expression hardening. He knew that his situation was dire, and the presence of these men only underscored the gravity of his predicament. Three of them had been plenty, now there was a fourth. And a loud, obnoxious one at that.

“Oh jeeze, what is all this, huh? What are we playing here? Interrogation? Or medieval games? Whatever it is, looks fun. I am in. Hey, Caelan the Creep, give me one of your knives so I can try that thing they do in mafia movies, where they stab really fast into the table with the victim’s hand on it and the victim can only pray for good aim.”

“You want a knife, I’d be happy to stick it right in your empty head,” Caelan growled. Blaine was competing with Gwydion for the number one spot on his hate list.

Caelan stood tall and imposing, his presence commanding attention. His light silver-gray eyes seemed to glow in the dim light, adding an eerie intensity to his gaze. A large scar ran across the entire right side of his face, a testament to battles fought and survived. His hair was a striking shade of black, braided meticulously in a Viking style, adorned with metal clasps that added to his fierce and ancient warrior-like appearance. His rugged skin was a fairer distinctly cool tone, contrasting with his dark attire. Black stubble covered his jaw, enhancing his rugged demeanor.

Dressed in a long, heavy leather coat and black clothing, Caelan exuded an aura of strength and menace. His attire was practical yet intimidating, designed to withstand the rigors of combat. He was armed to the teeth, with several knives, a battle axe, and his favorite weapon, an old English longsword, either in his hand or sheathed at his side. His skill with both antique and modern weaponry made him a formidable opponent, and his presence alone was enough to make anyone think twice before crossing him.

“Blaine, please, not now. Where is my daughter? I asked for Scarlett to come,” Cesare demanded.

“Yeah, well, she did come, which is why she is late. Well, not late like late late, ya know, at least I hope she ain’t, ‘cos she did tell me if I ever knock her up again, accidentally or otherwise, she’d cut off my balls and feed them to the seagulls. Yikes. She knows I hate seagulls. Anyway, she needed to hose Blaine’s love juice off herself. Girls and their showers, but we figured one of us better let you know we weren’t ignoring your messages, just didn’t get around to seeing them until now.”

“If you make another baby with my sister, I will cut your entire obnoxious self up into minced meat! The children you have are already way too much!” Caelan barked, but Blaine just blew him kisses. “Right, I’ll be sure to tell them all that Uncle CaeCae said that. ESPECIALLY Vivien.” This clearly had Caelan fuming.

“Is he thy court jester?” Gwydion, bound to a chair, rasped, his voice carrying the weight of ancient times, making even Caelan burst into a single laugh.

“You would think so,” Cesare suppressed a snicker, while Blaine turned to the speaker.

“Ah, it speaks, and we got ourselves a funny one here, huh. And nah, I am no jester, just naturally hilarious. Name’s Blaine. And you are?”

“Don’t need a name. A dead man walking is what he is,” Caelan offered in his growly voice.

“Then thou shalt never free Fiona,” Gwydion replied, his tone defiant.

“I don’t have to free her! My daughter is at my home, where I was enjoying time with her until I was called here! Bad luck, wizard!” Connell grumbled, startling Blaine, as he had not even noticed him standing stiffly as yet another statue in another corner of the room, only to be silenced by his grandfather Cesare’s glare. “Apologies, Grandson, to inconvenience you by calling you to your duties as a coven enforcer!” Cesare’s tone was quiet, with barely suppressed annoyance. “Sorry, grandfather,” Connell said quietly.

“Wait, what is all this about? Is this real? You guys aren’t playing, are you? Oh, is he one of those bad vamps the creepy one always hunts down? Are you gonna kill this one?” Blaine asked, pointing at Gwydion.

“I wish he would let me!” Caelan responded, nodding towards his father, Cesare.

“Blaine, this man here is a mage, a very dangerous one at that. He is holding my great-granddaughter Fiona captive, Connell’s middle child, while apparently currently not physically, but bound by a pact we had to strike to save Caelan’s life” Cesare explained.

“I am guilty of no such thing! She came willingly!” Gwydion argued back, his voice filled with indignation.

“Yeah, well, so now what happened here? Did he or didn’t he abduct her now? And if you did, holy shit dude, did you not realize who she is related to? I think it would be more pleasant had you stuck your dick into a wasp nest while sitting on an ant hill! Dayum, man.” Blaine smirked, clearly intrigued.

“Blaine, don’t interact with him. He truly is dangerous. And to answer your question, he knew very well whom Fiona is related to, which is why he wanted her. And please do not ignore my warnings, he is not to be taken lightly, which is why he is restrained,” Cesare warned, his tone grave, but Caelan snorted a laugh.

“Dead and bleeding out is what he should be! And I don’t think we have anything to worry about with Blaine, father, that bimbo doesn’t have any brain for the mage to control,” Caelan growled, his eyes flashing with anger.

“Cute, Cae-Bear, especially coming from the creep who has to dig up chicks to marry ‘cos nobody else wants you…” Blaine retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. A chase ensued around the table in front of the bound Gwydion, who watched the spectacle with a mix of interest and concern, while the others rolled their eyes.

“Hey Cesare, cue some Benny Hill music, that would be hella funny!” Blaine called out, just before Caelan caught him. They struggled for a moment, if you can call it that. Caelan was red-hot with anger, while Blaine made silly sounds while swatting at him like a little girl, until Cesare called them to order. Reluctantly, Caelan shoved Blaine backwards into the table, where he crashed hard next to Gwydion. Looking down at the mage, Blaine smirked and shrugged, “See, he hates everybody. I think something went wrong in his brain, so when he says he wants to kill us, what he really means is he needs a hug. You should try it next time.” Caelan turned to grab him again but froze in mid-movement when his father placed a hand on his arm.

“Caelan, Connell, with me, please. Blaine, watch him for a moment. Just whatever you do, do not approach him and do not release him.”

“Father! You would have Blaine watch someone like Gwydion?” Caelan grumbled, his voice filled with disbelief, but Cesare proved to have a mischievous side when he told his son while placing a hand on his back to guide him towards the door, “Can you think of a greater punishment for the mage that won’t kill him?”

“True, he might just wanna kill himself after that.” Caelan retorted, both chuckling, before the door shut.

“In-laws, am I right? They’re just jealous ‘cos all the girls think I am fab,” Blaine told Gwydion, while popping a bubble with the gum he was smacking around on. The minty scent of the gum wafted through the air, hitting the mage in the face. Gwydion’s frown deepened, clearly displeased by the unexpected and pungent aroma.

“Thy breath doth reek of strange herbs and concoctions. What foul substance dost thou chew upon?” Gwydion inquired, his voice tinged with medieval disdain.

Blaine smirked, leaning in closer. “Well, buddy, it was either gum on my breath or the smell of my wife’s pussy,” he replied, his tone deliberately off-color and offensive, clearly aiming to provoke the ancient mage.

Gwydion’s eyes widened in shock and disgust. “Thou art a most appalling knave! How darest thou speak such vulgarities in mine presence?”

Blaine shrugged nonchalantly. “Hey, I may be vulgar, but at least I’m not the one tied to a chair, so…”

“What role dost thou play within these castle walls?” Gwydion inquired, looking up at Blaine, who was leaning casually against a nearby wall.

“I play the role of fucking Cesare’s baby girl. I am the big man’s son-in-law, for better or worse, which is why Caelan doesn’t like me. He’s my brother-in-law and thinks he needs to wave his microdick around trying to establish dominance over me, just like he has been trying since he was some snotnosed preteen. Spoiler alert: he wishes! And you? Why do they have a mage tied up here, and what the fuck is a mage anyway? Are you supposed to be a new pet or something?” Blaine replied.

“Thou art appalling! How darest thou speak to me in such a manner!?” Gwydion exclaimed, his voice trembling with outrage.

“Oh, don’t get a big head, I fuck with everyone equally, just some can handle it and some can’t. Word of advice: try to fall in the first category, cos if I get an inkling you are in the second one it puts an instant target for non-stop verbal Blaine drive-bys right on your forehead. Ask the big grumpy Caelan how that goes for him. So, are you like a magician? Pulling rabbits out of hats and such crap? I mean, if you are, more power to you. I tried that once for one of my kids’ birthday parties, but when I reached into that hat, that dang bunny chomped down on my finger. When I tried with both hands, I ended up scraping up that dang animal’s full body weight in shit and piss. It was disgusting! That buck-toothed shitting machine was one eye bat by my then still little daughter Vivien away from me using it for a frisbee. Oh, wait, or would a mage be more like Leeora? She’s a feisty one.”

“You know Leeora Latimer, the Mortis Arcanum, Elder of the Necromancers?” Gwydion asked, surprised.

“Umm, I have no idea what a Necromancer is but sounds naughty, so knowing her, yeah, probably. I wouldn’t call her an elder to her face though, if you know what’s good for you. Like I said, she is very combustible. Like, literally, bitch can set shit on fire with a snap of her fingers or something. Oh and also, you got some outdated info, bro. Her last name has been Levesque for a LONG while. I know that because it’s on every other credit card statement I get. Wifey likes shopping her shit. You know Leeora designs clothing and owns a boutique, and judging by the prices, she is VERY proud of her crap,” Blaine explained.

“I comprehend not much of thy tongue, but how art thou related to Leeora?”

“I am not, at least not really, maybe just around a couple corners. So, Leeora is Caelan’s daughter, and he is my brother-in-law, not sure what that makes her to me. Wait, she’s the wifey’s niece, isn’t she? Ha, so I guess she would be my niece-in-law. Is that a thing? You’d think with how big a family I got I would have that down but if it is anything past grandkid I am out.”

“What art thou even prattling about?!”

“Look bro, you’re not one to point fingers at anyone about the way they speak. And well, what I was ‘prattling’ about is where you asked if I was related to ye old Leeora and I worked the answer out for you. Yes, I am, kinda. Your turn, what was your name again? And what exactly are you?”

“I am Gwydion ap Aberffraw, Archmage of the Welsh kingdoms. I have triumphed in countless battles, master of arcane arts, and wielder of ancient magics. For centuries, my name hath struck fear into the hearts of mine enemies, and the annals of history bear witness to mine indomitable will. I have vanquished foes both mortal and immortal, and my lineage is steeped in the blood of conquerors. I am the harbinger of doom and the guardian of secrets long forgotten.”

“Whoa, wait, what, hang on. What is your name? Gwiddee-what?!”

“Gwydion ap Aberffraw.”

“Yeah, I am not gonna attempt that. Listen Gwiddledee, I don’t know why you’re here or why my daddy-in-law and creepy Caely are shitting their breeches about you, but I know Connell as very reasonable and if he don’t like you, then I do have a prob with you too. You can’t go around abducting young ladies. Not cool, man.”

“I did no such thing! I made a reasonable request unto Cesare. He and her family decreed she must do this. She came willingly, as I stated afore.”

“Look, if Fiona really went with you, why isn’t she here? Ah—I saw that glimmer in your eyes. Either you really think my ass is sexy and I just made it to the top of your wet dream list, or your vest is very dirty here.”

“Fiona shall be set free once she hath fulfilled her duty to me.”

“A-ha, a duty. And what is her duty, Gwyneth?”

“Gwydion, thou fool! She knoweth her duties.”

“Well, she ain’t here to help me know them too, so I gotta ask you. Whatcha want with her?”

“She is to bear my heir.”

Blaine laughed uproariously. “Oh fuck me sideways, where do they find you people. Look, what you need is a life, maybe a job, a calendar cos it ain’t the Dark Ages no more, a current dictionary cos bro-sef, I have a hard time making sense of your gibberish, and you definitely need a woman, ’cause you look tense as fuck, man, but does it have to be Fiona? Look just get yourself out there, find a nice girl, make sure you both are ready to play mommy and daddy and then just get at it together, cos the whole heir thing is what happens automatically when you do it with the right enthusiasm. Talking to a man who has seven kids. And if we didn’t double up on birth control, I think we would be in the triple digits by now or at least close to.”

“Seven!? They all lived?”

“Yup, living and thriving, on daddy’s dime. Most have kids, and their kids have kids. But please don’t ask me how now or I will start a GoFundMe for you, brother. It’s really basic, tab A into slot B and then it’s all motion of the ocean, bro. Gotta make sure it’s the right hole though to be effective for making babies. The other crevices are hella fun, but kinda useless for baby making. Did that help?”

Gwydion glared at Blaine, his medieval mannerisms sharp and accusatory. “Thou art one appalling man! How can Cesare permit thee to be present? Thou belongest in a dungeon, with thy tongue removed.”

Blaine rolled his eyes, his modern-day attitude dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, so it was you with that shitty Amazon review of my last single! Brought down my perfect five-star rating with that drivel. Shame on you. Didn’t I tell you I have seven kids? Daddy needs his income to buy them all new shoes and shit. And don’t get me started on all the grandkids and great-grandkids and whatnot. If I showed you what I spend on Christmas every year, you would dissolve.”

Gwydion’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I do not understand what you are speaking of, but you are harrowing!”

Blaine smirked, unfazed. “Nah, I am in the entertainment industry.”

“Well, Blaine, since thou dost appear so eager to counsel a man, pray tell, wouldst thou lay down thy life for thy wife? And would she lay down hers for thee? Verily, love doth render folk vulnerable.”

“Would I die for my wife? In a heartbeat—ha, me, get it? Vamp, heartbeat, ’cause ya know, we don’t have any… no, tough crowd, huh? Fine, yes, I would die for her. I have died for her, actually. When she and I first met, she had her fangs, I didn’t. I didn’t even have them when we finally got married—it took us a while, many detours. But then one night things got a bit wilder, she got a little chompy and voila, I had my own set of fangs, no more heartbeat and good old Cesare up our asses and out our ears about rules and regulations. Unauthorized turning, you see. We’re not supposed to do that. Explaining how it happened to Cesare and also Riordan, to be recorded and filed, was rougher for the wifey than for me, seeing how it’s her daddy and cousin. She pretty much died then and there for shame. Joking aside, I have no doubt Scarlett would try to die for me, but she would never get the chance. I’d do anything for the wife or our kids. I’d die for her. Even now. So, yes. But I disagree with you saying love makes you vulnerable, at least I think that is what you were saying, hard to tell cos you sound like Cesare on a shitfaced drunk night when he falls back into his olden ways to communicate, and you gotta be thankful when it’s even English, cos bro grew up with medieval Italian or Tuscan or whatever the heck he always calls it. Nobody understands that shit! But if that is what you said, I say the opposite is true. Makes you stronger, man, if you know you got that girl you are crazy about and who loves you and only you, there is NOTHING in the world you couldn’t do. Why you asking?”

At that moment, Cesare entered, followed by Riordan, Caelan, Connell, and Scarlett. Scarlett was a remarkable beauty, the type with so much presence that it turned heads without any effort, despite her calm composure. Dressed in black, her figure-skimming attire hugged her curves elegantly, adding a rough edge to her graceful movements. Her long, raven-black hair cascaded down her back, and her striking silvery-gray eyes sparkled as she beamed at Blaine.

Gwydion didn’t need to be told who she was; he could see Blaine’s face light up with a certain smirk, and for a moment, everything and everyone around was forgotten. Walking over to him with a sway of her hips, she kissed him. Blaine, of course, used the opportunity to slam her down on the table in front of Gwydion, grinning up at him and wiggling his eyebrows.

“Need pen and paper, brother. Oh, right, my bad, your pretty little pawsies are a bit tied up at the moment. Hey Cesare, could you untie the man so he can take notes and draw himself some step by step how to pics?” Blaine winked.

“Blaine, would you please get off my daughter? We have a serious matter to attend to,” Cesare instructed.

“What? Gwiddledee and I had fun, didn’t we? Male bonding and shit, isn’t that right Gwynnie?” Blaine quipped, slapping the mage hard on his back.

Gwydion winced from his still aching, but hidden from view injuries, and he was clearly fuming at Blaine’s insolence.

“Blaine, be nice and don’t instigate.” Scarlett grabbed his hand and pulled him along, over to the others. Blaine followed, grinning back at Gwydion.

“See, when you do it right, the girl won’t even let you go. This gorgeous creature here can’t get enough of … hmph,” he was cut off by Scarlett clamping his lips together to silence him, then kissed him.

Business was discussed, and a vote was called. Connell and Caelan voted to incarcerate the mage and torture Fiona’s release out of him, while Riordan, Blaine, and Scarlett voted against it. By majority vote, Cesare decreed that the mage be set free, since he had a reputation to uphold. Entering into an agreement, then killing someone would be a huge stain on Cesare’s honor among other occult of any creed and could bring great disadvantages in case of negotiations.

As the others discussed among themselves, Cesare turned to Gwydion, falling back into his olden ways of speech.

“Thou shalt leave here unscathed, unpunished, as it would seem,” Cesare stated.

Gwydion, his eyes filled with a mix of relief and contempt, said just loud enough for Cesare to hear, “No harsher punishment could there be than to endure a room alone with that man,” indicating Blaine. The vampire leader chuckled at the remark.

“Oh yes, mine son-in-law doth have a way of testing one’s patience, indeed,” Cesare agreed, a hint of amusement in his tone. “Just as a warning, Fiona is around some corners related to the same ancestors as Blaine.”

“Verily, I have been made painfully aware of her temper and fierce ways,” Gwydion responded.

“Good. We wouldn’t want this to be too easy or even boring for thee,” Cesare replied.

“Fret not, Cesare. That, it most certainly is not. I vow to thee she shall not be harmed. I would not be here if I wished ill upon her. She is harder to contain than a tempestuous storm when vexed by me,” Gwydion explained, his tone a mix of earnestness and resignation.

“Well, thou couldst always release mine great-granddaughter from her bond in exchange for a truce, signed by me,” Cesare offered, his voice firm yet conciliatory.

Gwydion looked at Cesare, then averted his eyes, shaking his head. “Nay, that I cannot do. But I see her father is here, so I would like a word, with him and thee.”

“Speak freely,” Cesare said, waving his hand permissively.

“Might I be freed, please? Thou hast my word I shall not harm thee or anyone. Not even Blaine,” Gwydion requested.

Before Cesare could respond, Caelan, who had overheard the mage’s request, exploded at Gwydion, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him up to stand before banging his forehead into Gwydion’s. A sickening sound followed, and Gwydion temporarily sank into himself. Scarlett quickly interfered, helped him back onto the chair, glaring at her brother, who had been pulled away and was now receiving lectures from Cesare and Riordan.

“Remind me, son, who is your leader?” Cesare roared dangerously.

“You are, Father,” Caelan replied.

“You would do well to remember that in future! I cannot have you repeatedly defy my orders and requests! I understand this matter is delicate, we all worry about Fiona, but Connell is her father, yet, he manages to compose himself, I expect no less from you!” Cesare landed a rough slap on Caelan’s face, sending him backward a few steps, where he glared back, holding and massaging his cheek, even though it was more his ego that was bruised rather than the slap.

Cesare turned back to Gwydion, with an implied bow. “My apologies, Gwydion. That was uncalled for.” With that, he removed the vampiric magic that bound the mage.

Still seemingly affected by Caelan’s treatment and his previous injuries, but pulling himself together, Gwydion rose, wiping some blood off his forehead. The impact had left a deep gash and a throbbing pain, causing his vision to blur momentarily. Everyone watched him intently and apprehensively as he walked over to Cesare, bowing slightly, then on to Connell, where he stopped.

“Connell O’Cavanaugh, son of Caelan, descendant of Cesare, I, Gwydion ap Aberffraw, humbly seek thy permission to…” Gwydion’s solemn words were abruptly cut off as the door flew open with a resounding bang against the wall. Several vampire castle guards struggled to contain a young woman who fought fiercely, refusing to be subdued.

“Fiona!” Cesare exclaimed, his voice filled with surprise and concern. He turned to his guards, “Stand down and let her pass!”

“Apologies, Your Excellency, she surprised us with her actions, and we tried to be gentle, so she slipped away,” one of the guards explained, attempting to catch his breath.

Despite his bleak situation, Gwydion couldn’t suppress a chuckle, his expression one of amused recognition.

Fiona, now free from the guards’ grasp, slammed the door shut behind her before turning back to the room, her eyes blazing with determination.

“Oh my God, so she was right! Lavinia came over to tell me that Grandpa captured Gwydion, so Riordan was called to the castle. What are you doing here?” she demanded, her voice a mix of disbelief and concern. She hurried towards Gwydion, her fingers gently touching the injuries on his face where Caelan had headbutted him. With a sharp intake of breath, she turned around, her eyes fierce as she stared at her grandfather.

“That was you, wasn’t it?! What is wrong with you, Grandpa?!” her eyes shot daggers at Caelan, who was about to respond, but Cesare spoke instead.

“Fiona, my child, I have let you vent your reactions as we are all well aware that these are trying times, but now I would like you to remember whose home you are in. I thank you to act accordingly. As you can see, I am surprisingly capable of handling this situation even without your assistance,” Cesare said, his tone firm yet calm.

“Not very well evidently, look at him. He was already injured and now his face is banged up too. I am starting to think I should have gone to med school and not studied Computer Sciences,” Fiona retorted, her voice trembling with anger.

“FIONA! Enough!” Connell, her father, urged, his voice a mix of authority and concern.

“You see why he must die, father?!” Caelan ranted, “Clearly, he has clouded her mind with his magic tricks and is controlling her every thought! He must have summoned her here to create a diversion, having her spew lies he knows would confuse everyone. My grandchildren would never act or speak out of turn like that. He must die before it’s too late! Before he had a chance to … close the deal.”

“Let go of me, grandpa! Just stop!” Fiona struggled against Caelan’s tight grip around her arm as he tried to remove her from the room. Everyone was staring at the 23-year-old with a mix of surprise and confusion, as she had never acted out like this before. Caelan brought his scarred face close to his granddaughter’s, his eyes burning with intensity. “How dare you raise your voice to me, girl?! What are you doing here? He is making you come here! Wake up, Fiona, or does he have you so firmly in his magical grasp that you can’t see reality at all anymore? Are you too lost to us?!”

Fiona brought her face even closer to his, their noses almost touching. “Quit acting like I am not my own person! He’s not controlling me. I am here because after dad had to leave so suddenly Riordan’s wife came over and told us what happened, like I said, or do you think Gwydion is in Lavinia’s head now too? All this started to save YOU! I volunteered to do this to save YOU! You always told us kids that anything we start we have to see through. So, don’t you act all high and mighty now, when all this is YOUR fault to begin with! And now I choose to see it through, and you will let me! And quit trying to kill the father of my child!”

A stunned, absolute silence fell over the room. Cesare, Caelan, Connell, Riordan, Blaine, and Scarlett stood frozen, their faces etched with shock and disbelief. Gwydion, the mage, looked utterly dumbfounded, his eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and realization. The only sound was the steady ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner, marking each second of the shocked silence.

Fiona’s eyes widened slightly as she realized what she had just revealed in her anger. She slapped her hand over her mouth, her face flushing with a mix of frustration and embarrassment. “Oops, that was meant to be a thought for a few more weeks or months at least,” she mumbled, trying to regain her composure while looking around at the stunned faces. Fiona’s eyes found Gwydion’s, and she grimaced, giving a small shrug. He just stood there, still frozen in disbelief, unable to process the sudden revelation.

Loud clapping echoed through the room, diverting the attention from Fiona to Blaine, who now laughed.

“Damn guys, this is priceless. Congrats, great-grandpa to be. One grandbaby by a werewolf, now one forthcoming by a mage. Makes you digging up your ex-lovers to marry after your old lady voted your ugly ass off the island seem almost yesterday’s news …” Blaine laughed, and within seconds, using vampire speed, Caelan had him by the collar. But Blaine just smirked, taunting Caelan further. “Ooh, you better let go, or you will be in big trouble. You know my wifey won’t like this.”

“No, she doesn’t. Caelan, enough. Leave my husband alone,” Scarlett’s usually refined and smooth tone sounded harsh and warning.

Caelan knew his older sister was not someone to challenge, especially not in front of their father. Reluctantly, he let go of Blaine, shoving him backwards into the table with force. Within seconds, Scarlett was upon him, her hand clamping his cheeks, her glare fierce and unyielding. “Manhandle Blaine again and see what happens!” she hissed, her voice low and dangerous.

“Children! Let us divert our attention back to the matters at hand. And Caelan, I will ask you for one final time to pull yourself together,” Cesare commanded, his voice brooking no argument.

“Hey, Gwiddledee, looks like you didn’t need my instructions after all. Found the right hole for the winning shot all by yourself, huh?” Blaine laughed, receiving glares from Caelan, Connell, Cesare, and Riordan.

“Doth he never cease his prattling?” escaped Gwydion, which was instantly met by a resounding “No!” spoken in unison by all present, except Gwydion and Blaine, who shrugged, grinning. Despite the brief moment of levity, Gwydion’s eyes remained fixed on Fiona. Her presence was all he could see, and she quickly noticed his intense gaze. “Don’t look at me like that. I wasn’t trying to hide it this time. You just kept running off, as you do, and were nowhere to be found when I kept getting violently ill. I was scared and felt very alone. As usual! So, I came here instead, where I am not alone and used one of the pregnancy test kits I bought last time. Nobody knows yet. Well, until now, obviously.”

“Why wouldst thou use the portal, when last time it caused so much harm! That was reckless of thee! Thou knowest I always return. And I am not gone for long times anymore, as I vowed to thee. I came back today to an empty home once more! I regret teaching thee how to use the portal! You belong home. Especially now!”

“And I regret… lots of things, all of them having to do with YOU! And home is exactly where I went! Home. HOME! Your place isn’t home! It’s empty and cold and lonely! All this is hard enough as is, why make it even worse? That’s just cruel!” Fiona gestured wildly.

Gwydion’s expression was fierce, his voice resonating with a possessive intensity. “Thy home is with me! ME! Thou belongest to me!” he declared, jabbing his finger at his chest. Caelan twitched, ready to intervene, but his father held him back, shaking his head in silent warning.

Their words escalated quickly, voices rising with frustration and hurt. Fiona stepped closer to Gwydion, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. “I don’t belong to anyone! How many more times do I have to tell you that! I make my own choices, and I’m tired of you running off whenever things get tough! That is weak. YOU are weak!”

Gwydion’s expression hardened, his eyes blazing with intensity. “I runneth off to protect thee, to protect us, from perils that might befall, but ought not! Every time I return, I find thee hast done something reckless. Thou hast fled from me, destroyed mine home, and tested mine last nerve! I cannot always be there to save thee from thyself! But I shall find ways to protect the child thou art carrying now. MY child!”

Fiona’s anger flared, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “You mean MY child! Without me there would be NO child, you told me so yourself!”

“Without me, there would be no child still! It is rightfully mine, and mine alone! We made a pact, thy great-grandfather Cesare and I, and I have found him to be a righteous and honorable man!”

“Well, then I suggest you get HIM pregnant! And now watch this! I am gonna be the one running out on YOU this time. And you can kiss my ass while you watch it depart, you arrogant prick!” With that, Fiona turned and ran out, the door slamming in her wake, making everyone standing and staring stiffly wince simultaneously.

Gwydion stood rooted to the spot, his breath heavy and uneven. He swallowed hard, his throat working visibly as he tried to regain his composure. His eyes remained locked on the door through which Fiona had just fled, his chest rising and falling with each strained breath.

Cesare observed Gwydion closely, noting the mage’s profound lack of anger despite Fiona’s harsh words. The old vampire began to piece together the unspoken emotions between them, understanding that Gwydion’s concern for Fiona ran deeper than mere obligation. It was becoming clear to him that Gwydion possibly had realized the importance of companionship, and that Fiona, despite their clashes, wasn’t just a vessel to produce that heir anymore. Cesare reflected on Gwydion’s earlier request to be released from his shackles to speak to Connell, Fiona’s father, and the proverbial lightbulb went off over his head. There was only one reason why he would want to speak to her father…but his train of thought was derailed by Blaine.

“Oh damn, are those two already married, cos they sure as rubberduck sound like a married couple to me! Did I miss the grand wedding ceremony, or are they saving it for a surprise twist later?” Blaine quipped, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm.

“Shut up, Blaine, you are not funny right now!” Connell growled, his tone a mix of anger and disbelief.

“No, they aren’t married, not yet, anyway. Aren’t I right, handsome?” Scarlett purred, running the back of her hand beneath the mage’s chin. Gwydion’s eyes flashed to hers, then uncomfortably to Connell. Scarlett continued, “You were about to have a rather important conversation with Fiona’s daddy before her arrival so rudely interrupted you, weren’t you?”

Connell’s eyes widened, his expression shifting from surprise to shock to a dark, stormy look as he began to piece together what Scarlett was implying. His gaze darted to Gwydion and understanding dawning on him.

“OH HELL NO! Screw this shit! No way!” Connell bellowed, the realization hitting him hard. He turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him, his anger and disbelief palpable.

“Am I free to depart, Cesare?” Gwydion inquired, his voice laden with resignation and urgency.

With a solemn nod of his head, Cesare confirmed, “Thou shalt not find any locked doors or restraints here. Thou may pass unbothered. And I think I should find myself a stiff drink.”

With a nod, Gwydion left, his footsteps echoing softly against the stone floors of the castle. The air was thick with tension, the scent of old wood and faint traces of incense lingering in the background. Cesare sent Blaine with him, ensuring that none of the guards would bother the mage and probably to make certain he would truly leave, as he told the others with a hint of amusement.

Scarlett broke the heavy silence, her voice a soft yet firm declaration. “She loves him. And he her,” she stated simply, as if it were the most obvious truth in the world. Her words hung in the air, delicate yet unyielding.

Caelan’s eyes flashed with anger, his fists clenching at his sides. “One more word, sister, and I will forget myself. He is getting what he wanted, and she is possessed by him, unable to be her own person right now. It’s all him, controlling her! It’s all one of his tricks,” His voice trembled with barely suppressed rage, the tension in the room palpable.

Riordan, always the quiet observer, stepped forward, his calm demeanor unwavering. “I don’t think it is either of that, Caelan, in fact, I concur with Scarlett. I have no reason to believe otherwise. And I would go as far as to think they both haven’t even realized it yet themselves, or maybe they just won’t admit it to themselves for obvious reasons. I think they both are telling themselves they seek each other’s company because of the pact. And I further believe the mage is at his home, soul-searching for a development he may have wanted, but now isn’t prepared for,” he confirmed, his voice steady despite Caelan stepping in front of him, his presence threatening. “Stop talking now, if you know what’s good for you!”

“Oh, stop it already, Caelan,” Cesare’s voice cut through the tension like a blade, firm and commanding. “Open your eyes and try to see through your blind hate. And think, boy. This may seem like grave news—I fell prey to it at first myself—but strategically, this is a most favorable turn of events.”

Cesare paused, his gaze intense as he looked at each of them, the firelight casting flickering shadows on the walls. “I agree with Scarlett and Riordan’s observations. This wasn’t magic. And I saw a change in Fiona. She hasn’t the strength you or I possess, nor the skills, but yet she managed what we could not—tame the beast. Gwydion wasn’t the same as he was when he first intruded, and may I remind you, he breached this fortress with ease. Today, he stood among us, agitated and even assaulted by you, yet he took no action. I watched him, to assure that one false move on his part indicating nefarious actions could be stopped by me in an instant. Yet, he did nothing, even let Fiona speak to him in a for a mage of his magnitude absolutely unacceptable manner and in front of all of us, well aware that it could be seen as a form of weakness by me plus witnesses. No, he isn’t controlling her. I would wager it is probably almost rather the other way around. I am glad we had this chance tonight to observe this, I will admit it gives me comfort and even hope.”

The room fell silent, the crackling of the fire the only sound. Scarlett’s eyes shone with curiosity as she asked, “So what do we do now, father?”

Cesare’s expression softened slightly as he looked at his daughter. “The only thing we can do, my petal. Now we wait.”