29| The Manipulator

DOMINUS MARUTO

I snatched a bottle of wine from the cellar and staggered back to my seat, ignoring the dull ache in my chest. My body still felt weak, but I forced the cork off and drank straight from the bottle, gulping it down the way a starving wolf tears into flesh. The burn in my throat did little to numb the fury raging inside me.

Kayla’s hands froze as she packed up her medical kit. She had been checking me over, doing her endless “inspections” with her healer’s touch, but her voice carried that calm, irritating judgment of hers.

“Alcohol will slow down your healing,” she said flatly. “You’ve already consumed two bottles in the last four minutes.”

I turned my head just enough to glare at her, my lips curling into something close to a snarl. “If you’re done, get out!”

The way I spat those words made her stumble back a step. My voice was low, but it carried enough weight to crack stone.

“I-I’ll leave now,” she stammered, shoving the rest of her things into her bag before I could say more. She nearly tripped over herself as she rushed to the door.

The door had barely clicked shut before a knock came. Then Cena entered, bowing his head slightly.

“Do you perhaps need anything else, Dominus?” he asked, his voice polite, but I could see the tremor in his jaw. His eyes didn’t stay on me long; they flickered downward like a servant trying to avoid a whip.

I exhaled through clenched teeth. “You saw what happened.”

He nodded, but I continued before he could answer. “That was the first time I couldn’t shift. The first time, I could barely even lift my arm or bat an eyelash.”

The words cut into me like blades. I shook with rage, my whole body vibrating with the humiliation of it. Deklan had been there. He saw me weak. He saw me fail. The memory gnawed at me like a parasite.

“And you claimed you couldn’t find him.” I slammed the words at Cena, my chest heaving. “So tell me, how come he was right there? How come he had shown up there to mock me when you and your so-called soldiers were walking around like blind zombies?”

Before he could stammer out an excuse, I hurled the bottle of wine across the room. It smashed against the wall with a sharp crack, red liquid streaking down like blood.

“Look at that!” I roared, leaping to my feet. I crossed the distance between us in two strides and grabbed him by the jaw, forcing his face toward the splattered mess. His bones creaked under the strength of my grip. “Do you see it? That’s what will happen to your skull if you fail me again. I’ll paint your mother’s room with your blood, splash her walls with the insides of her precious son!”

The red stains dripped down to the floor, spreading into dark puddles. Broken glass glittered across the floorboards, jagged and sharp. It looked like the kind of cheap horror scene mortals make for children, except this was no play. This was a promise.

“Yes, Dominus,” he whispered, his voice cracking. 

I shoved him back with enough force that he stumbled into the doorframe. “Bring Sammy to me. Then take your soldiers and scour every corner of this land. No one rests until Deklan and Cedar are both kneeling before me.”

Cena bowed so quickly it almost looked like he was falling, then scurried out of the room.

I stood there, chest heaving, staring at the ruined wall. My hands itched for another bottle, and I gave in to the urge. I turned toward my wine shelf, the floor-to-ceiling monument of red glass and temptation. My favourite colour stared back at me, the dark crimson, deep and rich. Red wine always pleased me, not just for its taste, but because it looked like blood.

Blood has always been my obsession. Especially when it soaked into the fabric of my white shirts, staining them until I looked like a god of war standing in the aftermath of battle. The stench of iron, the warm smear against skin, it was better than any trophy.

I pulled another bottle, tore it open, and drank. Each gulp drowned the edges of my fury, but the rage still smouldered. I was mid-sip when I heard footsteps approaching, then a knock.

Sammy's scent reached my nose before she entered, and her presence shifted the air at once.

Her brow was furrowed, lips pulled into a deep frown that made her face look older. But her eyes, those sharp, gleaming eyes, were still alive with fire. They reminded me of a wolf baring its teeth before pouncing on prey.

“I know what you need me for,” she said, shaking her head with that mocking smirk. A laugh slipped from her throat, low and bitter. It wasn’t joy, it was a cruel, sarcastic sound.

In her mind, she found it amusing that I, of all people, needed her after ignoring her all this time.

“Find Cedar,” I said immediately. My voice was calm but heavy, sharp as a blade. I wasn’t interested in her theatrics.

Her laugh deepened. “Let me guess, you didn’t manage to suck her power out, did you? Now that is laughable. To know there’s something you can’t achieve.” She shook her head again, letting another short laugh cut through the room. “I won’t do it.”

“You will.”

The bottle in my hand slipped from my fingers and shattered against the floor, joining the graveyard of broken glass already scattered across the rug. The sound was sharp, final, like a threat that needed no words.

Sammy’s eyes narrowed. She knew what was coming before I even opened my mouth. “No. You can’t do that,” she said quickly, her voice trembling now. “You don’t get to threaten me with my child!”

Her body shook, fear creeping into her posture. She knew me too well. She knew exactly what weapon I would wield.

I rose from the couch and moved to her. In one swift motion, I caught her face in my hands, holding her still. I leaned close, so close our noses brushed.

“I wouldn’t have to threaten you,” I whispered, my voice low, dangerous, yet strangely tender. “If you just did me this one small favour. Think about it, I told you everything I’m doing is for you. For our child. For us.”

I inhaled deeply, savouring her scent. Sweet, intoxicating, the kind of fragrance that could trap any man. Beauty could be resisted, but her scent was a prison no man could escape. I knew her too well. I knew her mother’s heart always caved when I pressed the right button.

Truth was, I would never hurt her. I would never hurt the child. But she didn't know that. She had to believe I would. Power required fear, and love had no place in the game I was playing.

Her voice cracked, sharp with pain. “You’ll never change. You didn’t even flinch when I was on my knees in front of you, begging you to remember everything we shared, every promise we made. I let my guard down, Dominus. I gave you everything, and you destroyed it, all because of your selfish desires!”

She slapped my hands away and stepped back, putting space between us.

“If you make me do this, if you make me betray myself by threatening to take my son, I will hate you. And I’ll make sure he hates you too.” Her eyes were wet, shining with unshed tears, but her voice carried iron.

I laughed, though it was hollow, dry, and empty. “If you stay this stubborn, you’ll never see him again. Then we’ll see whose hate runs deeper.”

She glared at me, trembling with fury. “You’re a user. But remember this, Dominus, there’s one person out there who is your true karma. And I can bring her back.” Her voice cracked into a hiss. “Bye, loser.”

She spun on her heel and stormed out, slamming the door so hard the walls rattled.

I stood there, chest rising and falling, staring at the door. My knuckles twitched. My jaw ached from the clenching of my teeth.

Her last words echoed in my skull…bring back the one person who is my karma.

“Karma?” I muttered to myself, my voice low and sharp like the broken glasses before me. “If Cedar is meant to be my karma, then I’ll make her bleed until the word itself loses meaning.”

I walked to the shattered bottles on the floor, crouched, and dipped my fingers into the sticky red wine spreading like veins across the tiles. I smeared it across my palm, staring at the colour.

Red. Always red.

I closed my fist around it, letting the liquid drip between my fingers like blood.

I would hunt Cedar. I would break Deklan. I would use Sammy to get whatever the fuck I wanted. And when they finally crawled before me, begging for mercy, I’d give them nothing but death.

And it would be beautiful.