Chapter Thirty-Seven

I was on the ground, crying, helpless, while everyone was burning to death right before my eyes. The mansion was on fire, the dancers inside it screaming as flames engulfed them, the smell of ash in my nose.

I was there, watching as Rachel and Jason hugged each other while flames took them both, burning them to ashes in their one last embrace.

“No…”

Alessandro, Solomon, Kyle and Lachlan, the heads of the other Millennium Forces, were drowning under the flood that poured from the sky, their faces empty of emotions while the water took them under…

“Stop… Please…”

Brom was trying to save Megan, who was hanging on to his hand so she wouldn’t fall into the gaping abyss below, while everything around them shook, shattering to pieces.

Greg, Sally, Cora and Albert were staring downward while Maria fell from the sky, hitting the ground and her body exploded until nothing remained.

Jane and Ethan were crying over each other’s shoulders while the storm took them, separating them by brute force, killing them with its winds.

Adria and Louis were holding Melinda’s hand inside the strong wind, but she was shaking her head, and then they let go, flying into the air, dying like insects who were stepped on.

Hazel stretched a hand to Charlotte, who was stuck underneath a burning car, and she was smiling briefly before the car exploded, taking her with it. I looked with horror at the bodies in the car, turning to smoke, and saw Strider flying in the air, his body burned, looking more serene than I’d ever seen him.

Apollo was weeping over Samantha’s dead body while the storm took him too, causing him and Pyro snap and burn everything in their way, almost burning me too. But his flames only wrapped around himself and Samantha’s dead body.

And Fred… he was kneeling before a dark figure, whose face I couldn’t see beyond the darkness, and I could only see his legs clothes in black pants, the edge of his long black trench coat, and I knew it was a man, and not just a man. An instinct screamed at me it was Evander.

“Your time is up, Frederick Rhodes, the Alpha of the Millennium,” the man said in a voice that made me cry harded.

“No! Fred! Please - “

Fred lowered his head, and Evander pulled his hand up. Before I could do something, anything, a sword cut down Fred’s head, his blood splattering everywhere, and his beheaded head resting on the ground.

I felt everything inside me disappear. That everything exploded. It couldn’t be that Fred, the man I kissed, respected, and wanted until it was a physical pain, was now gone…

“NO!”

An evil laugh echoed, and before me I saw a pair of eyes, their color striking my heart numb. Then, out of thin air Brock’s little body appeared, his green eyes like that of a cat in the shadows, his dark hair blowing in the wind, his face blank, blood on his body, his legs burned. He stretched his hand toward me, murmuring, “Rosa…” just before a pair of arms wrapped around his neck, making his eyes almost pop out of his head from shock, and the beautiful man with the British accent and the bright eyes, the man I’d danced with at the ball and who wore his green suit here too, stared at me with a somber look.

“This is not a dream, Rosangela Martinelli Wayne,” he said quietly, his face turning sad, his voice pained, “this is the Spirit of Destiny trying to send you a message. She doesn’t do that to anyone but Seers - and the fact she does it to you means you have a part of her, a fragment from the most ancient Spirit and the oldest entity in this world.

“Remember this dream, Rosangela,” the man said quietly, his figure starting to fade away. “When the time comes, know that you saw it before, and don’t feel guilty. They tried to save you from the past, but it was too late. Remember this when the time comes and all of your friends will be in danger.

“And remember one more thing,” darkness entered my vision, “what will happen, is no one’s fault but Donovan’s. Not Maxwell England, not Magnus Odin, not Ryan England, and not Evander. Only Donovan.”

Everything disappeared and I drowned in the darkness…

2003

Magnus stared at the kids with a frown. None of these kids looked clean or neat, but Magnus didn’t care for that. He looked for a child around nine, and not finding her wasn’t even an option.

The orphanage manager couldn’t stop study him, and even though Magnus was used to get a lot of attention from women of all ages, he felt a spark of annoyance when the woman’s eyes were on his chiseled chest. Inside his head, Vadim sighed. They’ll never stop staring at us, will they? He asked.

Not my fault I was born hot, Magnus responded without an ounce of arrogance, just a cold fact, and turned to look at the manager. “I’m looking for a girl called Rosa Martinelli,” he said, watching how the woman blushed to the sound of his low, raspy voice, which was not once referred to as the ‘sexiest voice of all time’.

Vadim chuckled in his head.

“I-I’ll bring her over,” the manager smiled in a way Magnus thought was supposed to be flirty be was a little off the mark in his opinion.

She walked through the small kids, who sat at the dining table and fought each other for every crumble of bread. Magnus’s heart squeezed in pity, and he was wondering why Ryan had brought the girl to such a dark place. But Magnus had already learned not to argue with the Spirit of Time when it made an important decision.

The managed walked toward a small redhead girl and grabbed her hand. The girl looked at her green-eyed friend who reminded Magnus of someone, and the boy smiled back in encouragement. The girl went with the manager, and the two approached Magnus, who was looking at the small orphaned girl with another pang in his heart.

“Here she is, Mr. Odin,” the manager said. She left Rosa’s hand and pushed her closer to him.

Magnus smiled at the girl, who looked at him cautiously. “Can I take her out to the yard?” he asked the manager without taking his eyes off the girl.

“S-Sure!” the woman said.

Magnus nodded and turned back to the girl, giving her his hand. The girl looked around hesitantly but when she saw he was immovable, she put his much smaller hand in his. Magnus took her to the yard, where he sat on one of the benches and helped the little redhead to settle next to him. “Rosa,” he said softly, “I’m Magnus Odin. I came to check up on you.”

Her golden eyes snapped to him, much more intelligent than a little girl’s eyes should be. “Why?” she asked in her small voice.

Magnus felt immediate rush of affection toward the girl. “Because I’m a friend of your family,” he said, and it wasn’t exactly a lie.

Her already-big eyes widened even more from shock. “Really?” she asked, hope and longing in her voice, and Magnus noticed she was closer to him now.

He couldn’t bear seeing her so small, full of hopes that would shatter as soon as helft. He put his arms around her little body and crushed her against him. She gasped in surprise, but didn’t resist the warm hug, but even basked in it. After a few minutes, he leaned away and cupped her head in his hand. “I’m going to do something now,” he said quietly, “so don’t panic, because it’s not something bad.”

She tensed, studying him curiously, and nodded. Magnus smiled a little sadly. “Close your eyes,” he said.

When her eyes were closed, Magnus put on hand on her forehead and another on her shoulder. She tensed even more, but didn’t open her eyes, choosing to trust the stranger. Maybe she remembers you from the past, Vadim suggested, his voice amused.

Perhaps, but it doesn’t matter now, Magnus responded. Now do what you need to do, Vadim.

With pleasure, Vadim murmured and Magnus closed his eyes, giving his Spirit the focus he needed.

Moments passed by, then minutes, and after about fifteen minutes where they sat there immobile, Vadim let out a curse. Tempest is still in slumber inside her, he said with annoyance. And I have a bad feeling she won’t wake up.

What do you mean? Magnus asked, something cold crawling into his heart.

It means an external source have to come and wake her up, Vadim responded, and by external source I mean -

A werewolf healer, Magnus completed. Meaning, we need to bring here Bastien and be done with it. We can’t let Tempest keep being asleep.

But Bastien is still young and doesn’t know how to control his healing powers yet, Vadim stated with logic that made Magnus’s hairs stand on end. Therefore there’s nothing we can do now besides leave the iglr be until Bastien get full control over his powers.

Dammit! Magnus said angrily. It would be too late -

But there’s nothing we can do about it, Mag, Vadim said softly, and if she falls into the wrong hands, then it means that’s what Destiny wants.

Magnus knew not to argue with Vadim where Destiny was involved. Destiny was something above Spirits, werewolves, humans, and even Seers, who could see Destiny but not change it. The only one who could do that was Ryan England and his Spirit of Time, who also had limits to his disastrous powers.

So we wait, Magnus thought in anger and helplessness.

Vadim sighed. Magnus took his hands off Rosa, and saw the girl looking back at him with burning curiosity. He smiled a little shakily and took out a little bottle with light-blue liquid from his jeans pocket. “Drink this,” he told the girl when she took the bottle, “it will make you feel better.”

The girl drank without a question. Magnus counted to five and saw her closing her eyes. He lay down her unconscious body on his knees and caressed her curly hair. “It’s for your own good, Rosangela Martinelli Wayne,” he murmured quietly, fighting the tears in his eyes. “If I could do anything else, I promise I would’ve done it a long time ago.”

With these words he left her there asleep, knowing that when she woke up, she would remember nothing of this encounter - and of him

2012

“Plumburg Orphanage, Arina speaking.”

“Hello, it’s Magnus Odin. I was wondering if Rosa Martinelli is present.”

“Rosa…? Oh! You must mean Angela. She doesn’t refer to herself as Rosa anymore.”

“Angela, then. Is she there?”

“You just missed her, sir - she left yesterday.”

Silence, and then - “Left?”

“Yes, she’s eighteen already. She got a scholarship for one of the community colleges in the central area at some city. Ah, forgive me, sir, but how exactly are you related to - “

Disconnection.

“Hello? Sir?”

Silence.