Chapter Fifteen

Seperation

“She’s refusing to see me,” Warren whined frustratedly. He was pacing a track in the large rug that adorned the Library’s lounge area.

With a glass of ‘red’ in his hand, Magnus shrugged. “You can’t blame her. You did set yourself up for a fall, my boy. You made her a promise you couldn’t keep.”

“Thank you for being so supportive.” He huffed in reply and slumped, defeated, into the same armchair he’d perched himself on, on the night of his arrival. He winced and rubbed over his thigh; it ached. Due to Karou’s distance, his eyes had become murky pits, consumed by the whirling black hole of his iris and bloodthirst. No matter how many goblets of blood Magnus plied him with, his thirst did not let up.

“You’re going to have to do something about your leg…” Magnus noted.

Warre shook his head. As far as he was concerned, he deserved the pain. It was punishment for his betrayal. “I suppose that Roman has his claws in her by now. Who knows how many lies he’d filled her with. But she’s been taking dinner with him every night.”

“You might as well have served her to him on a platter.”

“Again, your remarks… they’re putting my mind at such ease.” Warren jeered sarcastically. His mentor’s lack of compassion was starting to get on his nerves.

“Warren, it’s difficult to empathise with you at the best of times, but right now, I couldn’t possibly give you my sympathies when you haven’t even apologies for your mistake.”

“So you’re saying I should say sorry?” Warren folded his arms over his chest stubbornly.

“It’s a start.”

“I don’t see how it would help; it’s just words.”

“Then show her you’re remorse.” Magnus suggested.

On the seventh night after their 'argument', Warren had made travel arrangements and was on his way to Karou's room to tell her the news; she would have to listen to him one way or another. Unfortunately, he wasn't the person she wanted to see when she opened the door. “Hello.” Karou greeted as she peered through the crack.

“I've arranged a flight back home,” Warren announced. He wasn't one for small talk at the best of times, but he thought now would be the worst time to ask her how she was. Her avoidance had made how she felt inescapably clear, even if he hadn't been able to read the expression she currently wore.

“Alright, enjoy your flight,” Karou said nonchalantly. How her head ducked behind the door insinuated she was about to shut it. So, Warren's hand grabbed the edge to stop her. Even though she put a little pressure behind her gesture to insinuate that she'd close it on his hand if she had to, he didn't move, and neither did the door. “What do you want, Warren?” She asked, exasperated; she just wanted him to leave her alone.

“You need to pack.” He replied plainly.

“I don't need to do anything. I'm not going back to Montana with you.” Karou explained briefly. She had been making arrangements of her own.

“You're going to stay here, are you?” Warren asked in a tone to suggest he didn’t believe it was an option.

“Yes, Roman said I'm welcome to stay as long as I like. I think that'll be until I'm ready to go to Enoch.” Since she'd upheld a silence between them, Karou had met with Romanmany times, and even though at first it had made her skin crawl to do it, she'd asked if she would be welcome in his castle. Of course, he was more than happy to accommodate his newfound friend. Making her plans known was hard, but she had to remain strong, even if it hurt. Above all else, she couldn't let Warren see what his blatant use of her had done to her esteem.

From what Karou said, Warren assumed what sort of arrangement Roman had made with her, and his possessiveness smouldered so hot it made him angry and became difficult to contain. Roman was a threat, mostly because he was interested in Karou sexually, never mind her psychic abilities. To be trained by and indoctrinated into the Black Winter was one thing, but agreeing to Roman's other terms made him squirm. He struggled to believe she'd done such a thing; it made her a hypocrite for being so angry at him for using her when she'd so easily accepted to be his Coven Lord's plaything. “I see. You and Roman have gotten close then, have you?”

She knew the next thing she said was spiteful, but she hardly expected a reaction from him. Hadn't he already made it clear that he didn't truly care about her? “You don't have a reason to care who I'm spending my evenings with, Warren.”

“That's not true, as hypocritical as it makes me... Please, just tell me you haven't slept with him?” His grip on the door grew tightened, as did his jaw.

“That's none of your business,” Karou gasped. Glancing at his hand, which wrapped about the door’s edge, she noticed how his knuckles had whitened.

“Let me in,” Warren demanded. The simmering anger let loose from within in the form of a low growl as he spoke, and before she could stop him, he'd barged his way inside her room. The moment they were both on the other side, the door slammed closed against the architrave, aided by Warren's aero kinesis. In seconds he was squared up to her, and although he didn't touch her, no amount of physical strength could've helped Kaoru in stopping his next move. Without consent, he was rummaging around in her head and looking for the answer to his question. Had she slept with Roman?

“Stop!” Karou could feel what he was doing inside her head, and it was far more violating than anything he'd ever done to her body. He'd inflamed a wave of anger in her that she could no longer contain either. Furiously she beat her hands into Warren's chest. “You can't just invade me like that!”

“I've gotten the answer I wanted anyway.” Warren glared down at her and didn't flinch when she hit him. He didn't care that he was stooping to Ellis' level either; a part of him suddenly understood her blind jealousy. “At least you haven't promised him your body.”

“Even if I had, why would you care?” Karou's face felt hot, and she realised she was crying. Wiping away the frustrated tears, she was annoyed that she'd let him see how much he was hurting her. “Why are you doing this to me, Warren?”

“Because I want you all to myself.” He grabbed her by the upper arms and stared down into her eyes intently, regardless of whether she could bear to look at him. “Do you think I'm not angry at myself for hurting you?”

“You're very good at hurting me. But even if you are angry, you're not sorry!” Karou's tears continued to run down her face as she spoke. For now, she didn't struggle against his hands. Not being touched by him for the last few days, when they'd seemed to have gotten so close, had been hard on her. She'd thought they turned a corner and that things could be good between them, that they could close some of the distance between them, and that Warren would see that he didn't have to hide behind his façade with her. Now that that dream had been shattered, it only made his betrayal more painful that she yearned to be caressed by his unfaithful hands and be devoured by his lips that had been so eager to kiss someone else.

“Even if I say it, it won't undo what I've done.”

“No, it won't, and if you promised not to do it again, it wouldn't hold any meaning now either. I'm never going to be able to trust you, am I?”

“You make it sound like I cheated on you, Karou?” Warren sighed; he was lost to understand the depth of her pain.

“You did. Don't you see that? You led me on, at the very least. When you promised not to sleep with Ellis anymore, I thought that meant we'd both made a promise not to sleep with anyone else but each other. I thought I was right when you made it clear you didn't want me to have anything to do with Roman or Lillianna. But, I guess I shouldn't have assumed that.” Karou's lower lip quivered; she was struggling to keep her hands at her side. Even in her current state, she just wanted him to hold her, which confused her more. The time she’d spent with Roman and her strange feelings about him hadn’t changed how magnetic the bond between her and Warren was. Why wouldn't her body acknowledge her emotional pain? Why was she still drawn to him? “You made me a promise, and you broke it. You cannot sleep with her and me, Warren. You can't use me like that.”

He knew that she deserved better than to be used by him, but hadn't they already agreed that sex was casual? Admittedly it never felt that way in the moment, and given the new secret he was harbouring, he wondered whether, deep down, she knew how he felt. Perhaps his tenderness had given him away. Somehow she always seemed to understand his feelings before he did.

A deep sigh left his chest, and he closed his eyes. Any remaining anger had subsided, sadness too he was simply felt defeated by the situation he'd put them in now. Cupping his hands to either side of Karou's face, his thumbs brushed away her tears, and he refocused his black eyes on hers; they were both thirsty, it seemed. “I want you to be mine,” Warren whispered.

“You don't mean that.” How desperately she wanted him to mean it made her ache. Karou allowed her hands to move to grasp around his wrists.

“Despite everything you know about me, I do mean it.” Staring down at her, he hoped that she would see his sincerity in his eyes.

“You're just saying that to lord me to go back to the Compound with you...”

“What can I say to make you get on the plane with me? Please don't make me beg you to come home with me, Karou? We don't have much time left.”

“Nothing you say can convince me. I've made up my mind. I've fledged enough to get by here with Magnus and Roman for the next few months before I head to Enoch with Cambria and start my new life. I see now that you were right; you'll never be able to give me what I want.”

Warren nodded and backed off. He didn’t pressure her any further; he knew she meant what she had said.

That was how he ended up on his private jet, on his way back to Montana, without Karou.

There had not been a dramatic goodbye; it was just implied by his leaving, he supposed. 'If that how she wants it to be, then fine.' Or so he'd told Magnus, but in truth, it hurt them both that once he was gone, they would be unlikely to see each other again if Karou kept to her plan.

Magnus had promised him to keep her safe, and every day of her absence from the Compound, his mentor would call him around six in the evening to update him on his fledgeling's progress. She'd been training her clairvoyance with some easy mental exercises she’d been going through with him. But, of course, no one would know if her skill had improved until she had a dream.

There were eyes everywhere in the Davikov Castle, just as Roman had warned. Taras Vasiliev watched from afar; he was wary of letting a hybrid into the Black Winter, regardless of how attractive she was. Like Warren, Taras had a thing for pretty young things. However, unlike Warren, he was willing to hunt far beyond what was considered moral. Frankly, he was a vile man, rotten to his core. It got under his skin how Karou had enchanted everyone around her. Magnus had taken her under his wing. Warren was obviously smitten. Roman had his eyes on her as his new plaything. Despite some lash back, even Lillianna was being aggressively friendly like always. What had gotten her bouncing up and down about the girl was rather typical - Lillianna being a psionic vampire meant she fed on energy, not blood like sanguine vampires. Lately, she'd constantly been going on about how Karou's celestial energy felt like life itself, yet the way the darkness of her vampirism marbled through it was wickedly delicious. It seemed that Karou was a taste sought after by everyone.

Thus far, Karou was doing well and seemed to be enjoying Blue Ash. She spent her spare time in the Library reading. Actually, that had become a hobby that she took between training with Magnus, eating dinner with Roman and avoiding the torment of Lillianna's barrage of advances. The woman was as ruthless as she was stunningly beautiful, apparently.

The last night of Karou's vacation was nearing, and though she'd be staying longer than originally intended, that night, in particular, would become significant. The moment she'd overstayed her vacation, things changed. The once harmless, friendly conversations had become more and more suggestive. He wanted to know too much about her for Karou to remain comfortable and convinced that his curiosity was healthy.

After a week, the vampiric Lord had grown bolder in his advances. The night he turned up at her guest room at eleven-thirty in the evening was the start of stranger things to come. The aura about him was disturbing on that night, but at least he didn't force his way in to take her. For one foolish moment, Karou had felt reassured by the thought that perhaps Roman was gentlemanly enough to attempt a courtship. Though he just left her an invitation, flowers, and another dress as a gift, her heart rate only settled once she was on the other side of the locked door.

The invitation had been to a soirée he was holding the evening to come. There was to be a dinner and a showcase of classical music put on for the party guests in one of the parlours. A chamber orchestra had assembled before an empty audience of some thirty seats that would soon fill with members of the coven. Magnus was there and kept a close eye on Karou, but Roman hadn't let her leave his side for a moment. While escorting her out of the dining room, he'd placed his hand on her waist, and though she managed to hold back, she felt like she might scream.

Seated next to Roman on the front row, as his guest of honour, Karou found that although she wasn't the biggest fan of classical music, she enjoyed the concert. A few well-known melodies were played as well as a few that she'd never heard before. But as Vivaldi's Storm was vigorously played, a waiter arrived at her side for the third time that evening to present her with another glass of wine. As she reached out to take it unceremoniously, she paused with her fingers only an inch from retrieving it. She felt Roman eyes on her, and something, call it instinct, told her not to take that particular glass. She faked a yawn and kindly refused the beverage, saying that the wine was making her sleepy.

Magnus. She thought, an alarm, and turned around to speak to Roman with a forced but convincing smile. She was hoping to excuse herself and retire early. Fortunately, the Spaniard had heard her cry for help and handled the situation for her delicately. He counselled Roman and convinced him to stay with his guests while he escorted Karou back to her room.

Magnus struggled not to pry on the walk back, but he could tell that a lot was weighing on her mind. “I am always here for you, Karou. If you need me.” He reminded her, but he prayed that she would turn to the person she ought to instead, her Sire, Warren. Perhaps now that she was starting to see Roman for who he was, it was time to forgive Warren. Although he'd once told her she was too forgiving of his mistakes and too kind, he'd seen for himself how much progress Warren had made. It was all thanks to Karou. He thought that it would be a great shame if all of that suddenly went to waste, even if he did agree that what Lillianna had coerced him into doing was vile and dishonest. If only she could extend her kindness once more and forgive him. Magnus was sure that a corner could be turned and amends could be made before she departed for her new life in Enoch. Part of him dared to hope that she'd remain at Warren's side, but he underestimated the Princess of Darkness, Cambria Morningstar's resolve in thinking such things.

“I know…” Karou smiled up at Magnus as she unlocked her guest rooms door. “Thank you, Magnus. Good night; I'll see you in the morning.”

Laid on her bed and still fully dressed, Karou clutched her chest, pining to pull the weight she felt off of it. For some reason, the urge to cry was profound. She fought it for a little while, at least until she was undressed, washed, and changed for bed. Then, curled up in the sheets, she unleashed the pent up unfathomable mixture of emotions she'd been harbouring and wept violently into her pillow until she fell to sleep.

At last, the results of her training would reveal themselves to her once she was fast asleep. A dream formed.

The notes of Vivaldi's Storm rang through her ears again, background music to the rain that poured and the scene that unfurled. It was nighttime. The moon was high and shining down through the open-air archways of one of the castle's outer corridors. She saw her hand stretched out before her, it was being held by a man's hand, and she was being led somewhere. Somewhere deeper and darker in the castle, a secret place.

Although the ambience of the dream was vivid, the imagery seemed blurry, like, at that time, her reality would be artificially distorted. When she dreamt of the future, it was never dream-like. Instead, it always felt real, like a memory rather than a premonition. But not this dream; this dream was characteristically vague how remembered dreams ought to be. It threw her off centre, but there was no escaping her visions once she was in them, so she was helpless to watch whatever would unfold. The hand she held felt safe. The aura felt familiar. She recognised that the man before her was Warren, even if she couldn't see his face. 'Where are you taking me?' She heard herself ask, with a playful laugh behind her voice. She half-imagined how he would reply. Probably in a coy manner, with one of those crooked smirks that she liked best.

The reply she got instead changed her feelings about the scene instantly. The vision turned on its head, and the playful emotion evaporated. In its place, a sense of all-consuming panic arrived. Her heart pounded in her chest, and in reality, while she laid prostrate in bed, she writhed against the sheets, fighting to get free. In the dream, she tugged at the hand that held her, attempting to get away too. Following the arm up to the shoulder and beyond to look upon his face, she saw Roman. He grinned wickedly at her through the semi-darkness. There were no ears this far from the centre of the castle to hear her scream, but the shrill sound cut through the last few bars of Vivaldi's Storm. ‘Am I coming off as strong?’ His voice growled sadistically and too close to her ear for comfort.

‘Yes’, she heard her own voice reply.

‘Good, I meant to. Now you know what I want. Be a good girl and yield.’

Blackness took her sight, and the feeling of falling wrenched her stomach. Suddenly the dream was beyond blurry; she felt drowsy, and her moments of clarity were patchy at best, but despite that, her dream continued - Something felt firm at her back, and her heels scraped against the texture of the fabric she was laid upon. The sensations she felt over her body informed her of what was happening to her, but she couldn't bear to give the trauma validation by forming an evaluation of it. Instead, tears streamed down her temples and into her hair. She cried helplessly, both in reality and in her vision.

Karou retreated to her thoughts to get away from the violation being carried out on her body. She was safe in the knowledge that the events she was dreaming of weren't real, for now. Soon she'd wake up and have time to escape the horror that she'd predicted would befall her. So, why didn't this dream feel like all the others? Why was her mind so foggy? The answer seemed almost too obvious to deny. She'd been drugged. Suddenly the glass she'd refused earlier came to mind. Something had told her not to drink that last glass offered to her. Though she hadn't been ensnared this time, not by that precise glass of wine, this vision, this dream, was proof that Roman would try again. If she didn't give herself to him willingly, he'd take her by force.

Although she fought not to give in to what was happening to her in her dream, it was becoming impossible. The friction she felt burning into her lower back, caused by the rhythm of the assault, gave life to what was being done to her – supposing that the sensations of violation in the obvious place hadn’t been enough already. Whatever bound her wrists from movement bit at her skin; she thought she heard the clink of chains when she attempted to move. The sounds of panting, grunting, and groaning she caught between the sickening commentary from Roman made her winch as she continued to beg him to stop.

She could take no more torment, and suddenly she was awake, sat bolt upright and crying out over and over until she realised that the dream was over.

Alone in her guest room at gone midnight, Karou desperately needed the reassurance of safe company. Mostly she craved the feeling of safety being back home at the Compound brought, but she was over one thousand miles away. The decision was made so easily - she had to leave. Roman's very real advances threatened her, unquestionably. Although she hadn't agreed to be part of his harem or the Black Winter, it was clear he intended to make her submit any way he could. She was confident that if he got his way with her, and she gave her dream time to come true, she'd never leave Blue Ash, not to get back to Montana to Warren or Enoch and Cambria. She would forever be his prisoner and plaything.

With Warren out of sight and Karou battling to keep him off her mind, the true colours of the Davikov were starting to show. Though she hated to admit it, Karou thought that perhaps Warren had been right. Blue Ash wasn't a place she should remain in too long, not if she valued her autonomy, and Roman Black was certainly not to be trusted. He was the tyrant he was rumoured to be and a true monster.

Running down the castle's vast stone corridors towards Magnus' room, Karou realised that her first dream of the icy fortress was coming true, and soon she found herself in a large room with a mirror, 'the mirror'. Staring at her reflection, she panted in fear as behind the shadowy figure advanced on her. Was it Roman? In running away from her premonition of him, had she ran straight into his clutches instead?

Next to her reflection, a face appeared. Long black hair framed a sunkissed face, and dark eyes peered out at her from under a heavy set, distinguished brow. The dark and manicured facial hair moved as the man's rosy lips opened to speak. “Why are you wandering the castle so late, Bonita?” Magnus asked. His gentle Mediterranean accent was music to her ears and calmed her instantly.

A relieved smile spread across her face, even though tears began to stream from her eyes again when she turned to see his familiar face. “I need to go home.”

“Would you like me to call Warren?” The Spaniard asked with a warm and understanding smile. Karou just nodded.

No sooner had the jet's airtight door gasped open, Karou disembarked down the steps and ran toward the black SUV. Karou knew that he'd most likely be inside, and without meeting his eyes, she made a rush for the passenger door. She yanked it open and sunk into the leather seat. Safe at last, Karou let go of a huge sigh of relief.

Meanwhile, Warren was left in the lurch. When he'd opened the driver's door to peer out over the roof of the vehicle, yet he hadn't even time to welcome her back before she’d curled herself up in the passenger seat. “I'll go get your luggage.” He said simply, dipping his head back into the car for a moment. He hadn't expected a warm hug on her arrival back like how she had when she left, but he hadn't expected her to be in the state she was either. It was deeply concerning and led him to some dark conclusions.

When he'd received the late-night call from Magnus and was told that Karou was desperate to get back, he didn't flatter himself by thinking it was to get back to him. He knew that she probably just needed to get away from Roman. The pureblood's interest in Karou had disturbed him from the get-go. Hence Magnus had agreed to hide her from him for as long as possible. Naively they'd hoped that Karou could come and go from Blue Ash completely unnoticed. But, since his departure, Magnus had informed him that Roman's attention had become more imposing. It must've gotten too much for Karou to handle. After all, Warren already knew his Coven Lord's sanity balanced on the edge of a knife, but the pureblood's approach to things he wanted, especially women, was the root of his unrest. Just how far had he overstepped for Karou to return as a bag of nerves?

Warren wasted no time pulling away from the airstrip with Karou's bag stowed away on the car's back seat. He sped back toward the Compound and figured Karou wouldn't mind his disregard of the speed limit, given how fraught her aura felt. Although the drive was short, Warren still had enough time to get almost as worked up as Karou was. He was a master over-thinker, and every avenue his mind took him down got darker and darker as he imagined what'd caused Karou to return, looking so emotionally and physically fragile.

Next to him, Karou was silent the whole way up to the west gate's depot, and she'd stared blankly out the window the entire time. A jumble of emotions pulled her this way and that, and she was still sore from how they'd frayed during their last conversation. Karou had no idea how to face Warren now that she was back because she was both glad and ashamed to be. When she saw the Compounds wall before the SUV's bonnet, her feeling of relief to be back home swelled. Again, without any words to explain her urgency, Karou set off running away from the west gate towards the Compound’s main building and from there to their unit the moment Warren put on the parking brake.

Warren looked to the guards that lingered about, at a loss. Though he definitely didn't like the vibe he was getting from his fledgeling, he didn't want to push her for answers when she appeared to already be at breaking point. Though he wasn’t long behind her with her luggage slung over his shoulder. Eventually, when he caught up with Karou, she stood waiting by their unit door, fidgeting impatiently. With her back rested against the outer wall, she stared at the ground while Warren took the keys from the pocket of his jacket.

Upon entering the place that'd become her home, her sanctuary, she took a deep breath in. All she could smell was the aroma of Warren's existence, and in truth, there was no other scent she needed to become calm and reassured that she was safe.

She took an hour or two's solace in her room to mull over some feelings. Now she was away from Roman, and back home, she felt at ease, but she was still apprehensive about facing her Sire. You can't hide away from him forever. She thought. That notion eventually caused her to eek open her bedroom door and peer out into the lounge. She saw that Warren had left her luggage in the hall. It was thoughtful of him, but she decided to put off unpacking for now and left the bag behind and crept gingerly towards the couch.

It was no surprise that she found Warren sitting in his corner. There was comfort in the familiar, she thought. He had a leg stretched out down the leather, facing the corner she usually sat in. A scotch glass rested on one knee, a lit cigarette between his index and middle finger as he held the glass fast, and a book in the other. With his pyjamas on, he'd retired for the day and looked relaxed. At that moment, she knew where she wanted to spend the rest of the night, even if she was still a little angry at him. Having changed into her typical night-time get up of a tank top and sleep shorts, Karou climbed over the back of the couch and crawled towards her Sire without reserve. Then, boldly, she lifted the hand, in which he held his book, out of her way and slunk herself down against his torso. Wordlessly she snuggled into him and closed her eyes.

Since Karou had instigated it, Warren reciprocated by simply relieving his hands of the scotch, cigarette, and book to wrap his arms around her. This was all that she needed to feel completely safe and whimpered as she nestled her face into his chest.

It was easy to fall asleep with only the lounge lamp lighting the unit and seeing that she hadn’t slept well her last few nights in Russia. The fear that if she let her guard down for just one second, the door to her room wouldn't remain closed and Roman would somehow get in and at her had kept her from sleep. Roman's dark intentions had been made clear, and her vision had just put the nail in the coffin. Karou had made her mind up. If any man was going to get their hands on her, it would be Warren. If she were to be played, used, and exploited, it wouldn't be by anyone other than Warren.

So far, Warren had been patient and as quiet as she had. He wasn't going to push the issue of what had upset her; he didn't want to add insult to injury in that respect. Karou obviously required a convalescent, so he'd let her come around on her own. But it was taking a toll on his nerves. Thank God, as usual, she was more resilient than he'd expected and ventured out of her room sooner too.

“Karou, did he touch you?” Warren whispered without an ounce of judgement in his tone. He knew he was asking a potentially delicate question.

“In my dream, he did, and that was close enough.”

Karou fell asleep quickly, and once Warren had wound down enough to consider sleeping too, he carried her to bed. Initially, he tried to tuck her into her own bed, but she protested. Even after all that'd happened, Karou insisted she didn't want to sleep alone anymore. So it came to be that Warren and Karou would share his bed from then on.