Page 20 of A Queen’s Betrayal (Legends of Worldbinders #1)

There was so much blood . It covered the floor and the walls . Their small home lay torn apart, wooden furniture splintered into tiny shards , glass shattered from the two windows , and cotton fluff scattered everywhere .

In the corner of a chamber , a girl cowered, her knees pulled tightly to her chest, blood staining her hands. She wasn’t crying. She wasn’t sad.

She was angry.

Her parents lay in heaps on the floor, her father’s body a protective shield over her mother’s. Beside them, a man in black—an assassin , her father had called him—lay still. He had killed her mother swiftly, a knife across her throat, before turning on her father.

Her father had fought back, managing to kill the assassin, but not before a blade had plunged into his own belly.

Minutes later, the girl’s father crumpled to the floor, arms wrapped tightly around her mother. His honey-colored eyes stared into hers, frozen in the grip of eternal death.

The girl heard hooves approaching, shouts echoing outside, and glimpsed flames from torches beyond her shattered windows.

She kissed each of her parents, her lips now smeared with their blood. Without looking back, she dashed through the back door and into the dark of night.

She didn’t turn to see her home burning; instead, she looked to the sky. The stars formed a dragon’s skull, and she let the fire breathing from its mouth guide her to safety .

* * *

Snap. Snap.

Arenna’s eyes flew open. Her head felt foggy, her heart pounding. She had been drowning in a hallucination when the unmistakable sound of breaking branches forced her awake.

She glanced around the dark space where she lay, feeling for her dagger tucked beneath the bunched-up cloak that served as her pillow.

They were still beneath the stars, resting on the cold, snowy ground where they’d chosen to stop for a few hours. After clearing the outskirts of Tolgan and crossing the river that split the city from the forest, their mare had needed water, and a chance to rest her legs.

Arenna looked at the commander’s bedroll, and Koltin was awake and alert, balancing on the balls of his feet as he slowly pulled his sword from off the earth. His blue eyes were wide, staring into the blanket of darkness beyond.

Snap .

Arenna’s blood ran cold, despite her fire flaring under her skin.

Both of them tensed, tightening their grips on their weapons. “You hear it too?” she asked, shifting to move closer to the commander, but he raised a hand—a silent command for her to stay put.

The air was cold and heavy, and snow fell from the dead branches above her. But the chill that raced down her spine didn’t come from the winter air or the snow beneath them.

Broken tree branches rustled, and twigs snapped. A low growl echoed from the depths of the forest, a sound so terrible it curdled the contents of Arenna’s stomach. “Do you think Jaksen sent the druque after us?” she whispered.

Koltin paused, then shook his head. At the sound of another set of ashen earth crunching, he stood, unsheathing another blade. “Get your back to mine,” he hissed in a low tone.

Without hesitation, Arenna stood and ran to him. With their backs pressed together, she felt better. Calmer. It felt natural to be there with him, ready to fight against whatever lurked in the forest.

Burwood went eerily still. There were hardly any sounds from the Rot that had devastated the once-lush forest, but this silence was different—heavy, lethal, and predatory.

Arenna looked right and left, finding only dark trees blanketed in snow and the starry sky above. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Another branch cracked in the distance.

Both their heads snapped forward, locking onto a pair of blood-red eyes staring back at them. Arenna wasn’t sure if her unrestful sleep had left her in a dazed fog or if she was truly seeing it, but the eyes glowed like rubies shimmering beneath the sun.

Neither Koltin nor Arenna seemed to be breathing. Her skin felt cold, but her blood roared within her—bubbling, bursting with energy.

Sweat trickled down her temple despite the chill in the air, every ounce of her strength focused on suppressing the flames threatening to erupt.

“Do not move,” Koltin commanded.

The beady, glowing red eyes rose higher, as if whatever it was shifted from a crouch to a stand. Antlers glinted in the moonlight, and at that moment, Arenna knew what loomed before them, just as Koltin did. “Vorgrith,” she whispered.

The beast let out a low snarl, its breath swirling in the frigid air. And then it moved like lightning. The vorgrith lunged from the shadows of the trees, claws slicing upward toward them. Its massive body propelled it toward Koltin in a single leap.

Arenna barely had time to process before the creature tackled Koltin to the ground, its snarling snout dripping with drool just inches from his face.

Its fang-filled maw clamped down on his shoulder, and Koltin bucked, a scream of pain tearing from his lips.

She thought of nothing but the urgency of the moment as she ran toward them, plunging her dagger into the loose, dripping fur on its side. The vorgrith screeched, its eyes burning like embers as it snapped its head in her direction.

Blood poured from its open wound, her dagger lodged deep in its muscle.

Unable to yank her blade free in time, Koltin seized the fleeting opportunity, shoving his sword upward through the beast’s lower jaw.

Red blood sprayed, dousing Koltin as he scrambled from beneath the fallen creature. Growls echoed from the trees, and the duo realized their fight had only just begun.

Arenna helped her friend to his feet, one of his arms draped across her shoulders. “Can you walk?” she asked, yanking her blade from the corpse of the vorgrith.

With a groan, Koltin nodded. “We need to find somewhere to hide. They travel in packs of at least five and won’t take kindly to the death of one of their own.”

Desperation rattled in her chest as she scanned their surroundings. The density of the dead trees obscured her view, and the moonlight—dim and wavering—was their only source of illumination.

Hooves pounded against the ashen earth, echoing through the forest. Panic clogged Arenna’s throat, but she focused on helping Koltin untie the mare near a shallow stream. The horse bucked and kicked, overwhelmed by her own terror.

Koltin struggled to calm the panicking mare, gripping her reins tightly with one hand while stroking her long snout with the other. “Easy, girl, easy.”

More branches shattered, and snow crunched underfoot. The remaining Vorgrith would be upon them any second. “Get on,” he demanded, pulling Arenna atop the mare.

Once they were settled, Koltin urged the mare forward, digging his heels into her sides and cracking the reins. They bolted through the trees, leaving everything behind at camp except for the packs strapped to their backs. There was simply no time.

Arenna’s hood flew from her head, her black hair whipping in the wind. The mare galloped at an incredible speed, but it wasn’t enough to outrun the creatures that finally emerged from the thicket. She dared to glance back, pulling a sword from Koltin’s belt.

Four beasts sprinted through the snow on their hind legs, red eyes glowing like beacons.

Steam huffed from their flaring nostrils, and drool dripped from their gaping jaws.

They were monstrous walls of muscle, screeching and snarling as they tore through the underbrush.

Their antlers stood tall and curved, sickeningly sharp at the tips.

The creatures surged forward, the lead beast lunging its vicious claw toward the mare’s swishing tail.

She cried out, veering to the right so abruptly that Arenna nearly lost her balance.

Had she not clung tightly to Koltin’s waist, she would have tumbled to the frozen ground, vulnerable to the slobbering jaws of the vorgrith.

Then, a blur of black—a thick pelt of torn fur—shot from the trees, encasing Arenna and Koltin in its powerful grip and sending the mare sprawling to the ground.

Her vision turned into a kaleidoscope of white dots, and the rising roar in her ears made her stomach churn. Arenna barely had time to react before the Vorgrith drove its thick claws into the back of her leg, dragging her through the snow toward its gaping, blood-slick fangs.

She screamed—sharp, raw—thrashing against the agony that exploded through her.

She kicked wildly, desperate to tear free, to escape the searing pain and the stink of its breath.

But the vorgrith held firm, its claws anchored deep, willing to endure her every struggle for the chance to taste her flesh.

Roaring through the pain, Arenna grabbed Koltin’s sword that she had dropped beside her and blindly stabbed at the rotting flesh of the Vorgrith. The creature didn’t stop, shredding her clothing and tearing at her skin.

She thrust her knee into its furred chest, pushing the beast back only inches. But that brief moment of respite allowed her to raise her palms, praying to whatever goddess of the Seven might be listening, if they were at all.

The vorgrith lunged back at her, a mass of snarls, blood, and hunger. Arenna brought her hands to its face, stopping its snout just inches from her own. A fang tore through the center of her right palm, and she screamed.

The creature growled menacingly in her face, its rancid breath curling into her nostrils. Desperation fueled her prayer, and with a cry ripped from her throat, she summoned flames to her hands.

To her astonishment, fire burst forth—wild and consuming—engulfing the beast in a torrent of heat and light. It shrieked, a high, grating sound that scraped at her ears, as the flames poured down its gaping mouth. Magic surged through its throat, searing up into its eyes, its ears, its nostrils.

Steam hissed from its flesh. Blisters rose and burst across its skin. Clumps of rotting fur curled and blackened, peeling away in strips as the fire devoured muscle and bone. Her flames licked between its ribs, then incinerated them altogether, collapsing its chest from the inside out.

The beast convulsed, its limbs twitching violently as if trying to claw its way free from death. But there was no escape.

Finally, with a choked, wheezing whimper, it collapsed. Its body crumbled to ash, disintegrating before her eyes, the remains drifting upward like snowflakes in the dead of night.

Coughing and gagging on the remnants that landed on her lips and tongue, Arenna quickly regained her composure, scrambling from her back onto her hands and knees. She thrashed through the thick snow, searching for her dagger.

Pain flared in her palm as she found and grabbed the blade, her open wound searing with fresh agony. She cursed and dropped it into the snow, crimson smearing across the white as the weapon fell.

Gritting her teeth, she glanced down—and froze.

The gash in her leg was deep, jagged, and raw. Blood poured in thick rivulets, staining her skin and soaking into the torn fabric around her shin. Flesh had been ripped apart, the edges shredded like torn paper.

Warmth started underneath her skin, heating the wounds on her hand and her leg. She barely breathed, staring as embers sparked to life, tiny flickers of light glowing just under the surface. Slowly, they began to move.

Those embers danced along the wound, golden and alive, stitching the frayed flesh back together with strands of fire. The pain changed, still sharp, but no longer unbearable. It became a burning pressure, like hot metal being pressed into her skin.

She trembled. Every nerve in her leg lit up as the skin pulled itself closed, layer by layer, until the gash was gone, replaced only by a faint, glowing line.

Arenna shuddered, finally exhaling the breath that burned her chest. She blinked rapidly, heart pounding, trying to make sense of what she had just done. Had just seen.

Then movement caught her eye.

Just beyond the trees, two vorgrith stood—half-shrouded in mist, their heads tilted ever so slightly, as if they’d been watching the entire time.

Koltin lay just a few feet away, clutching his bleeding shoulder, panting heavily next to a dead vorgrith with a blade thrust through its eye. She looked from him to the two remaining beasts as their eyes shifted between her and her hands, weighing their options.

With identical growls, the remaining vorgrith slowly retreated into the safety of the shadowed trees, disappearing into the night.

Relief washed over Arenna as she fell to her knees, exhaustion beckoning her to rest. Koltin collapsed beside her, crawling to pull her against his chest.

Darkness enveloped the former queen, pulling her into a sweet, sweet abyss.