Gothikana

by RuNyx

Wind whipped through the car. “How many of them were there?” “Seven, I think,” he replied. “But there are fifteen unmarked graves,” Corvina pointed out. “I counted.” He smiled slightly. “Interesting, isn’t it? If you believe the local legend about those graves being theirs, then who else is buried there?”

I am here for this mystery. Gimme more scraps ! 🍽️

Corvina ignored the view outside for a moment, watching him, his muscled forearms exposed under the sleeves that were pushed back, his skilled, wonderful hands mastering the car like he mastered the instrument he loved so much.

"Mastering the car"? 😆 Girl, chill, lol. Corvina is thirstyy

“What’s your interest in the investigation?” she asked him quietly, needing to get a sense of his involvement in any of it. He smiled but remained silent, leaving her even more confused.

He's sacrificing students! 💀

a thick white cloud of fog blanketed everything below them. Above them, the skies turned an angry purple and gray, darkening everything enough to make the headlights seem like the only light. A loud boom of thunder rumbled all around them, and the skies burst open, pouring their wrath down on the earth.

She replied, worrying the nail of her index finger, “But why are you telling me this, Mr. Deverell?” “Vad,” he reminded her.

"I can't get attached," he says, while making her call him by his first name. 😆

He brushed one of her pebbled nipples with the tail end of her own braid, the feathery sensation sending a long shiver over her body. “This is the time we can succumb to your sorcery,” he stated softly, his pupils dilating, the braid in his fingers wreaking havoc on her sensitized nipple. “The one time I’ll allow myself to possess you.”

Oh, how magnanimous of you ! 🙈

He scissored his fingers inside her, eliciting a moan from deep within her.

"Fingers scissoring" is a reoccurring phrase in these kinds of stories, but I don't know wtf it means. 🤷🏽‍♀️

His response was to pull his fingers out and slap her pussy, stinging it enough to make wetness gush out, as though punishing her for saying that.

That's... not how it works? Maybe it's an exaggeration. 🙈

His grip on her hips tightened a split second before he thrust up, pulling her down simultaneously, lodging half his length inside her in one stroke. Corvina screamed and she breathed through her mouth, trying to adjust to his thickness and length.

No easing himself in with stimulation? What a douche.

“So, back to normal then,” she mused out loud. His response was a slight huff. It was over sooner than she’d expected. And she didn’t know what she’d expected afterward, but it hadn’t exactly been this.

Time to make the awkward, silent drive back to the college. 😆

Two weeks, and her soreness had disappeared. Two weeks, and things were normal to the point where she wondered if she’d imagined the whole thing. Corvina made her way with her sandwich to the end of the dining area, finally able to walk without even a twinge between her legs.

Soreness should have lasted a day at most 🙈

Mrs. Suki had told her one day about a special shelf where she’d stashed all her romances, unbeknownst to the university—vintage romances from her day, erotic romances, historical, and even some paranormal. Corvina was a sucker for those. Fingers skimming over the titles, she plucked out two small shifter romances, continued skimming, paused over Jane Eyre, and took that out as well.

Jane Eyre isn't a spicy romance, tho ? It's classic literature 😂

The scent was the first thing she noticed, amidst the smell of old books and musty library, that scent of crisp burning wood and brandy. Heart pounding, she tilted her head back, catching a glimpse of the silver eyes before his mouth crashed on hers.

Vad : here, let me kiss you forcefully in a place we might be caught any second.

“Why two tragedies, Mr. Deverell?” “I’m a tragic kind of guy,” he quipped with a straight face, and Corvina snorted, slapping her mouth with her hand when his eyes swung up to her, along with those of half the class. “You find that particularly amusing, Miss Clemm?” he asked her, his face expressionless.

Uh, *yeah*—You made a joke so she laughed. Gotta be weird about it, tho 🙄

“It doesn’t have a happy ending, Miss Clemm.” Corvina stared him in the eyes, knowing he would understand the subtext of her next words. “It has a devil in an ancient castle falling in love. What can be more interesting than that?”

Has anyone actually read Dracula, or did they all just watch the 1992 movie that made up their own shit?

Corvina gripped her elbows. “I don’t understand what happened with him. He wasn’t suicidal, at least not from what I knew of him. He was fine this morning, happy. It’s just … out of nowhere.”

That's just how it is a lot of the time. This was obviously some paranormally influenced act—but in real life people have chemical imbalances, they have deep depressions they can't handle, and hide their struggle to not be "a burden" to friends and family.

He took them around the side to what looked like a heavy wooden door with a huge brass knocker with a demonesque laughing face.

He knew. He knew. She didn’t know how, but he knew about her. She put a hand on her forehead to calm down, her heart galloping like an injured horse running for his life. A bead of sweat formed on her neck, dropping down in the scoop of her sweater in a journey that chilled her. Her breathing got choppy, blackness creeping around the edges of her vision.

Obviously a total creeper, who even warned her himself she should stay away—but you know that ~soulmates magnetism~. So did he get her a scholarship there? He said he saw another person with purple eyes before, so I'm assuming he knows her mom somehow.

Taking a seat by her hip, he pushed her hair back from her face with his other hand, tracing the curve of her jaw, his thumb caressing her nose piercing.

He's like a crow too, in that he fixates on and always goes for her nose piercing. 🐦‍⬛

“You already know,” she whispered, keeping her eyes on his neck. “Just the facts,” he told her. “I want your story. But later.” “How do you know?” She gulped in a lungful of air. “It’s confidential information.” His thumb caressed her cheek. “I have my ways.” So cryptic.

No! I want to know now 😬

“I’m going to work out for a while,” he told her, heading to the door. “Rest. Don’t try to leave. We’ll talk after I’m back.”

Oh, so he does work out. I was wondering how a dude in his position was supposed to be so built.

As her brain tried to process the new details, she became aware of the solid, warm weight against her side, a muscular arm around her stomach keeping her pinned to the bed. Corvina looked at the arm with ropes of muscles and a smattering of dark hair.

'Ropes' of muscle? I've never seen it described that way before.

Human contact was such a precious thing. Only people who had been starved of touch knew the value of it, knew never to take it for granted, especially something so intimate as sleeping beside someone. As someone who had always slept alone, even when she’d lived with her mama, Corvina hadn’t realized how hungry she had been for the prolonged contact that made her feel like she belonged. She’d always wanted to belong, to be loved, to be cherished by someone despite every piece of baggage she came with.

Hands trembling, eyes burning, she gazed at him, silently thanking him for giving her this, another beautiful first, another memory she would keep safe in a corner of her heart that would remain untouched by her mind.

What were the other "beautiful" firsts???

She didn’t understand how a man who was teaching part time and still studying could have accessed confidential records about her or her mother. Who the hell was he?

Or how he has time to *do* anything. He should be so busy on his work, but whatever. 🤷🏽‍♀️

Wild, pitch-black hair surrounded an unusual face, with natural sun-kissed skin, high cheekbones, a wide mouth, a silver ring glinting on a short, straight nose, a long neck, petite shoulders, and prominent collarbones above an ample pair of breasts. And tilted eyes, a shade of purple so odd to others who had never seen it before. They were her mother’s eyes and her father’s hair, from what her mama had told her once. “Hair the blackest of black like feathers of the Raven,” she’d said, telling her why she named her Corvina.

What makes her face unusual, tho? Her eyes are, but what about *her face* is unusual? This writing is so bad. Why am I still reading? Why can't I stop? 😵‍💫

Her eyes in the reflection slowly turned black, the whites dissolving into the black holes that expanded from her pupils and crept to the edges. Heart thumping, she watched, her grip on the towel tightening as her reflection stepped closer to the mirror with those terrifying eyes, a tear falling down the reflection’s face.

The reflection stepped closer to the mirror, and suddenly the whole thing cracked like something had smashed into it from the other side, the mirror bulging in the shape of someone’s hands trying to get out.

“Is there any news about Troy?” she asked the girls, turning her doorknob. “Nothing yet,” Roy informed her. “It’s truly a tragedy. He was a good guy.”

"It's truly a tragedy". That's quite a bland and impersonal thing to say about your friend killing themself. 😬

“He was always so chill.” Roy looked toward the stairs. “We can never really tell, can we? Everyone deals with their pain in different ways. He could’ve been in a lot of pain, and no one could have known.”

I like the side characters in this. Honestly, they're a big part of the reason I'm still here. I love lonely-outcast-finding-friends stories. Now if they could just be a scooby gang who solves the mystery !! 😑

“First Alissa, now Troy.” Her friend shuddered. “I’m scared one day Verenmore will have more ghosts than people. I just hope we don’t end up as one of them.”

Both people Jade was close to. Not a good time to leave her alone! She's probably going to be next 😰

A lone piano sat pushed against the wall with a wooden bench in front of it, the same piano she had seen in her tower. It had been moved. That’s why she couldn’t hear the music anymore.

So much moving around of heavy-ass pianos.

She’d come here to avoid him, she had meant to avoid him, but seeing the piano made her wonder if she should. Was this the universe telling her not to run from him? She needed a sign from the universe, just one more answer showing her some direction.

Looking for any reason to keep around someone she obviously shouldn't be around 😆

“You said we wouldn’t do this again,” she reminded him just as quietly, leaning her chin on the armrest. “That was long before I had a taste of you. Long before I woke up alone in my bed after the best sleep I’ve had in years.”

Does she make the nightmares go away? That magic ~soulmate~ balm.

“Can you just … not look at me while I’m speaking? It makes the nerves worse.” Vad nodded, putting his hands on her thighs and spreading them wider, his fingers playing on her knees. “I’ll be looking at something else. And if you’re good, I’ll make you come.” A jittery breath leaving her lips, Corvina looked up at the ceiling. “Isn’t that weird for this kind of conversation?” His fingers moved to the edge of her stockings. “It will keep your mind from hyperventilating. Now, talk to me.”

Lol, ok ! 🙄👍🏽

She glanced back one last time at the man who knew everything about her even as she knew not one thing about him, the imbalance of their power suddenly making her feel like the entire episode had been less an act of affection and more a deal she’d just made with the devil.

a gust of wind blowing over her face, the fog circling around her. The sense of foreboding came with the phantom ants scattering over her arms.

It's those damn ants again !

She would have told Vad about her suspicions and her meeting but she had neither the time to catch him alone, nor the inclination, not after realizing she had no idea about him. She didn’t know if he was involved in anything, she didn’t want him to be, but until she knew for sure, she was on her own.

I like how she's only thinking of this *after* he declared them a couple. 😆

“Here.” She shrieked, swinging her lantern up to see Troy’s brother waiting for her against a rock, still in the same coat from that morning.

It's the same day; why would him wearing the same jacket be worth mentioning?

“I have a professor who’s been here a long time,” she told him. “Really?” he asked, surprised. “Who?” “Vad Deverell.” His eyes flew to her, his eyebrows almost hitting his hairline. “I’ll be damned,” he muttered under his breath. “Fucking bastard found you.”

😯

Ajax gave a hard grin. “Verenmore has always belonged to the Deverell family. It’s not common knowledge, but legally, the castle and this mountain are both his.”

Ok, so that's why she was "accepted" there.

“Don’t touch me. Who the hell are you?” “I’m who I’ve always been to you.” “A stranger.” His silver eyes flashed. “A stranger?” Something pulsed in the air between them, an aura of danger wrapping around him that sent a perverse thrill to her lizard brain. She knew, just knew that if she ran, he would chase. And she wanted him to chase. She wanted him to catch her, conquer her, claim her, and reassure her everything would be okay, that their chemistry, their connection was still the sun while her world tilted on its axis.

“And I can’t give the truth to someone I don’t trust yet not to flee.” He pressed a kiss on her earlobe. “You earn my trust and I earn yours, and you’ll get all the answers you want.”

Kissed her *earlobe*? 😆

“You want to know who I am?” He punched his hips harshly against her.

'Punched'? Whut?

She felt different now, newer, feeling her way around herself. She liked when he took charge and took care of her.

Ah, I see—They're *that* kind of relationship.

“Sneak out on me again,” he murmured into her hair, his voice heavy with sleep, “and I’ll have you coming on my fingers in class.” A delicious shiver made her tremble at the forbidden thought.

🙈

“You’re taking all of my firsts, Mr. Deverell,” she whispered quietly as a confession. His arm tightened. “I will take all your lasts, too, Miss Clemm. Mark my words.”

Does he mean that as ominously as it sounds? Or is it just romantasy trope possessiveness? Probs the latter — but I *still* don't trust him! 🔍🤨

Heart pounding, she took another step, just as something cold and slimy gripped her ankles, locking her in place. Corvina struggled, trying to get to her, but the movements caused ripples. Whatever gripped her ankles dragged her down in the black water, taking her under. “We know you hear us.” The feminine voice came from around her, bringing that scent of decay underwater. Corvina looked around frantically, trying to see where the voice came from, trying to see anything in the utter blackness.

“What if he’s been evil all along, Corvina?” an insidious voice whispered in her head, one she’d only heard once before in her life. “What if he said the things you needed to hear to bring you here? You could disappear and never be found.”

Ok, it's starting to look like misdirection. Now I'm thinking he's just going to have been a killer of a killer, and his involvement with Alissa was sleazy and unprofessional, but not what led to her death.

Phantom ants crawled over her skin, the hair on the nape of her neck rising.

They're back! 🦟