Page 2 of A Blackened Bond

I’m not afraid of a lot of shit, but this place always gave me the creeps, reminding me of my first time down here and how long it took me to get back. The days felt endless, all blurring into one long nightmare and a dark, burdensome memory I don’t want to revisit any time soon.

I make my way past the lake's rocky shore toward a small black house. I say ‘house,’ but it's more like a decrepit wooden shack than a place anyone would call home.

The old wooden black door slowly creaks open as I make my way nearer, a familiar face stepping out to meet me.

Valen.A weak, happy expression stretches his lips as he pulls a white mug to his mouth before taking a sip.

“I was hoping to see someone.” A sad look crosses the bastard's ice-blue eyes. “I was just hoping it wouldn't be you, cousin. How many times has it been now?” He takes another step closer, brushing a hand through his shoulder-length black hair as the soft scar above his right eye raises his brow.

Val was ten years older than me and the only one in the clan that I could actually stand being around.Unfortunately, the dick chose to stayhere.

I didn't mind Val; he had thoughts about our clan that were similar to mine.

Some relished in our bloodline, calling what we are and could do a ‘gift’. A dark sound rings out in my head with the thought.

Nothing could be further from the truth.It was a damn curse, a poison-laced through every drop of our blood and inch of our flesh.

You also lose a little bit of yourself each time you die: your memories, your mind, or your emotions. You slowly become a cold bastard like most of the elders in the clan, ones devoid of emotions and lacking any speck of humanity.

There is only one golden rule that we all have to abide by: someone from the clan must always guard the grounds and gateway. They spend at least a few decades down here, in this dark, empty shit of a cave.

The clan members take turns, some even preferring it after decades or centuries alive.

And Val volunteered.

For over five years now, he's manned the pathway alone. He said he felt saner here in an empty, dark cave with lost souls than with our family, and I couldn’t blame him one bit.

“Is this your fifth or sixth time this year?” He shakes his head, the little white tuft of hair on his right side floppingforward. “You know how it can affect us. Our minds can’t stay sane. It’s a fragile thing. Dying multiple times can damage it and fracture it beyond repair. Just because our body and souls are stronger than others, doesn't mean we can be reckless—”

“Val,” I call, cutting him off as I take a step closer. “It was different this time. I didn’t jump in mindlessly.”

It’s true that I hadn’t given a shit about my life before, pushing the madness laced in my veins to its limits and testing it with my own stupidity. But it was different now. I had Red.

Pushing her outta the way during that attack was the best thing I’ve ever done in my life. If I had to bleed every drop of blood and break every single bone so that she could be safe, I would do it a hundred—no, a million times over.

My gaze meets his, a curious look growing in his eyes before they trail down my front and freeze. His eyes widen, and his lips part before he flicks his gaze back toward mine.

“I suppose it was because of this.” He points toward my chest and the tattoos swirling around them.

My brows pinch together. What was he—

Then I see it. In between the large snake tattoo curling around my left side is a small mark. The shape is almost like an infinity sign, yet not fully connected, with a line coming from one end mirroring the centre’s curve.

I remember every tattoo I’ve ever gotten, and this wasn’t one of them.

I rub the mark, my brows pulling downward as Valen’s voice overtakes my thoughts.

“That’s…a Mate Mark.”

I feel my eyes widen as I meet his worried gaze.

“I’ve seen a similar one once before…on your father.”

I shake my head, annoyance and anger burning in the pit of my stomach. “Don’t mention him—”

Valen raises a hand. “I understand your disdain. Uncle…lost his mind when aunt passed, but there was no excuse for his—”

“Neglect.”A small scoff leaves my lips. “I don’t wanna hear it. Abouteitherof them. There’s no excuse for what happened to…” I glance toward the lake, a tightness forming in my throat.

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