Page 67 of Demon Valley Marked

13

Your Alpha Is In Danger And Hidden Power

~LEXIANNE~

“MALIFER!”I cried out as I swiftly shot up in a breathless hurry.

“VIVIVIOOOOOOO” My wide eyes peered up to see the flying set of voodoo dolls with their crayons and papers—an indication that they had to have been chilling on me before I sat up and sent them flying in the air.

“LERANTAVIC!”

Strings of blue and white appeared out of nowhere and wrapped around every member of the fleet’s waist, leaving them hanging from the ceiling. At first, they seemed confused as they blinked out of their shock to look at me.

Then they turned their attention to their clear savior and cheered.

“VIVIVO!” They wiggled their hands and swung back and forth in happiness.

“Felix and Fynn warned me that you’d try to sit up when you woke but I didn’t think it would be like that.”

My eyes landed on the culprit of the strings and yarn that seemed to hang from all over the place. The ceiling, the furniture, and anywhere on the floor where there was enough space for the bundles of yarn that were in different colors was covered.

It finally gave me a chance to really observe the male who helped me out of my kidnapper situation in the first place: Colton.

He was 6’3” with blue hair that was an array of three or even four shades: teal, cobalt, indigo, and denim. Through that palette of blue were tinsel strands of black and white to make his hair wild in nature.

His eyes were normally black by default, but when he used magic, they either went pure white or completely black. He was a little on the pale side right now in terms of his complexion, but he was super handsome and gave off a playboy vibe.

From our sudden introduction and the events that led to our survival, I came to realize that Colton was pretty chill and similar to me in terms of the “act now, discuss shit later” movement.

Which I needed to hop on right now!

“Where’s Alpha Malifer?” I questioned and tried to get out of bed, but the swing of my legs only got them tangled in the piled balls of yarn and I was falling forward. “AH!”

Strings of pink and red wrapped around my limbs in seconds which stopped me before I crashed to the floor.

“Easy there, Lexiboo,” Colton declared while he still managed to keep knitting whatever he’d been working on before my abrupt awakening. “I fear if you get one bruise while I’m watching you, Alpha will kill me for eternity. If it ain’t Alpha, I’m sure it’ll be Wallas, Felix, or Fynn who will follow in his footsteps.”

“They wouldn’t kill you,” I huffed and tried to wiggle out of his strings’ hold. “How did you summon these without a spell? You used one to catch the dolls.”

“Gotta use special string when you try and catch voodoo dolls, Lexiboo,” Colton revealed as he further leaned in his chair. His hands moved those needles with the occasional looping technique courtesy of the tips of his fingers. He used them to grasp onto a different stream of yarn to continue whatever pattern he was following.

He made it look easy, especially when he was staring at me and still continuing his flow like nothing had interrupted him, but I bet it took a whole lot of skill with a golden rank in multitasking.

“Why?” I asked in the spur of the moment. He actually paused in his knitting spree to look me dead in the eye.

“Or else they’ll explode,” he said with a straight face.

My jaw dropped as I slowly glanced over to see Zasper was the closest hanging voodoo doll near me.

“ViViVo?!” His voice went up in pitch and his comrades mimicked the shock sound.

We all looked back at Colton with our horrified expressions before he smiled.

“Nah. Just kidding.”This little—“The string causes friction against their straw ropes which ignites the on fire,” he elaborated. “Then they explode.”

We blinked and stared at him as he seemed to reach a good stopping point in his project. With a snap of his fingers, I watched the flow of dark and light magic rush through the room like two gusts of wind—the ones of dark lifted me and the voodoo fleet out of our string holds and brought us together until we hovered above the bed, while the streams of light wind rushed through the room until it was spotless.

One final clap of his hands and all the yarn, strings, and needles were gone and we were dropped onto the bed which was cushioned by a thick yarn blanket that clearly had to have been made by him because the multicolor beauty didn’t fit the gothic aesthetic of the room.

---