As I tug on his sleeve Zaiden reluctantly follows.

“Come on Zaiden! We only have a little bit longer at the carnival before you make me do boring stuff.” I roll my eyes and he stops. His expression falling stern as whispers, “You think I _want_ to do this?”

I don’t let my smile falter. “I don’t think anybody wants to be a part of a gang thats wanted throughout the entire kingdom but here we are!” I throw out my hands in exasperation before continuing to push through the crowd.

When I turn and around and notice that he is still standing where I left him I stick my tounge out at him in a teasing manner. _That_ gets him walking.

I laugh over my shoulder as I start running away. Weaving inbetween the crowd, my layered skirt gets caught on a vendors cart. When I finally manage to untangle my dress he is right behind me. He scoops me up by waist, cradling me in his arms.

“You,” he pants, “are exceptionally fast in heels.” I laugh, trying to push him away and let me down. As soon as my heels hit the softened grass the entire crowd goes silent. As I look around I realize that they are still talking yet, I can’t hear them.

“Over here sweetie.”

I turn around to find an old lady draped in beads standing in front of a tent. Her darkened skin looks like she has spent her years wandering through the dessert.

“Whats happening?” I wonder aloud, not daring to step closer.

“Quinn.”

My attention spikes as she uses my name.

_I’ve never seen this woman before. How could she know my name?_

“I’m a fortune teller and there is something I think you should know.” She doesn’t hesitate before turning back into the tent.

As soon as she is out of sight the sounds of the lively fair return.

“Quinn?” Zaiden waves a hand in front of my face. “Are you okay?” His brow pinched with concern.

“Yes I’m fine. I would like to go talk to that fortune teller though.” I point to the tent only to realize the booth is unlabeled.

_How strange._

“Would you like me to come with you?” Zaiden asks, handing me my purse that he had grabbed off of me a moment before.

“How about you go grab us some candy apples instead!” I offer, trying my best to sound like I didn’t just turn down his company. He nods and walks away, but not before offering me one of his heart winning smiles.

I slowly walk towards the tent, pushing through the beaded curtain.

“Hello?” I call out nervously, fidgeting with my bag strap.

“Ah! Quinn! Sit down would you?” The lady motions to a tassel covered pillow on the ground.

“How do you know my name?” I ask, plopping my skirts down around me.

“Wrong question my dear.” She states flatly, mixing some sort of concoction in a nearby bowl.

“Oh well.. uhm… who are you?”

She turns abruptly, her sharp eyes cutting into mine. “I am Aleina. Renound fortune teller.”

“Renound? I’ve never heard of you.”

“I come only to those who need it.” She sits opposite of me. “Now I get to ask _you_ a question.”

I nod slowly.

“Who is that man you were talking with.” Aleina didn’t make sound as though it was a question. More of a demand for answers.

“Oh Zaiden?” Worry seems to melt out of me. That wasnt a very hard question.

“Yes yes.” She waves her hand as though dismissing the answer. “What is he to _you_?”

“Oh.”

_That_ was a tricky question.

“Well technically he is my boss.” I whisper, fidgeting with the beaded mat next to me.

“Quinn.”

Her voice echos around me and I dare to meet her eyes. “You need to stay away from him.”

“But-“

“No buts!” She snaps. Her eyes which before seemed to be blue faded to black. “He will be the death of you Quinn.”

“Why would you say that!” I yell, standing to leave.

“He is not who you think he is.”

With that comment I freeze. “Then who is he.” I sneer over my turned shoulder.

“He is the one you will end yourself for. The one who will make you want to follow his every command. He will give you _death_, and you will love him for it. Quinn. You’re different. You’re like me.”

I finally turn around to see that she has moved the beads around her neck to reveal a birthmark in the shape of a skull on her collarbone.

“We arent made for love Quinn.” She whispers sadly, staring longingly at the mark. “If you don’t run now,” she looks up, blood soaked tears staining her cheeks, “he will be your downfall.”