The Weave of Fate by S. L. Matthews

Author:S. L. Matthews [Matthews, S. L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-03-07T16:00:00+00:00

A va’s heart fell as she leapt up the stairs, desperate to beat Dijor to Viktor’s room.

She did not.

Ava entered the chamber and found her old friend standing on the large rug in the center of the room. A large, serrated knife lay at his feet, a fine line of crimson coating its broken tip. Thibold had taken Viktor’s place in the over-sized chair, spun to face the rug. A startled expression stretched across his face, one that petrified when Ava burst through the door.

“Eggs…” Viktor’s wretched voice echoed, “and toast.” Ava gasped as she scanned the room, searching for the source. She took a few cautious steps into the room, certain she was stepping into a trap.

“Eggs and Toast!” he bellowed again. As his words rang out, the origin of Ava’s fears emerged from behind Dijor. A fresh cut glistened under his left eye, a thin line dripping down his cheek. Viktor’s devilish eyes sank into her with contempt.

“Instead, you send an assass—”

“Don’t hurt him!” Ava interrupted. Her mind reeled. There was no way out. A pit formed in her stomach, knowing she could never forgive herself if something happened.

Oh Dijor. What have you done? Not for me.

Viktor’s gaze grew violent. If his eyes were weapons, they would have done irreparable damage; instead, his visage changed from anger to spite. He stared right through Ava as his loathing deepened.

Suddenly, Dijor’s eyes widened in horror. He gasped for breath but was cut short. Ava peered at her friend, then saw the tip of a frosted, metal blade protruding from his mouth. Blood pooled in the corner of his lips, spilling over as the weapon pressed forward.

“Nooo!” Ava’s cry rang out.

Dijor’s eyes rolled backwards while his body slumped forward. With a crash, he hit the floor face-first, blood pouring from his mouth. Ava was incensed. She stared at her friend, speechless, then snapped back toward Viktor. He stood there, a stiletto dagger in his hand and contentment across his deviled grin.

Ava’s blood boiled. Heat rose through her chest and anger exploded from within. Eight years of mind control, torture, and humiliation, had led her to this singular moment. She let her emotions loose, solely directed at the one person she despised most in this world.

“You son of a bitch! I hate you!”

The words erupted from her mouth, and she knew she meant them. She no longer concerned herself with consequences. She no longer cared of her “place” under this tyrannical roof.

“I will see you dead if it’s the last thing I do!”

The room fell deathly silent. Thibold’s expression turned to horror. He cleared his throat and slowly rose to his feet, backing steadily away from the door. Viktor squeezed the dagger as a trickle of blood spilled across the elegant, purple lotus. With his other hand, he reached for his cane, a grotesque, gnarled piece of wood, its handle carved into the shape of a gargoyle. He studied the cane, then handed it to his business partner. Thibold gripped the instrument, eyeing it with a look of confusion.

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