Page 30 of Bound By the Beast Man

DIANA

I wake slowly, drifting up from a deep, dreamless darkness.

My first sensation is one of profound confusion.

I am warm. I am comfortable. The surface beneath me is soft, yielding, and a heavy blanket is tucked securely around my shoulders.

The air smells of old woodsmoke and clean linen, not the damp, cold earth of a cave.

For a moment, I am convinced that I have died, that this strange, peaceful warmth is some form of afterlife.

I force my heavy eyelids open. I am not in a cave.

I am in a small, rustic room, the weak morning light filtering through a single, grimy windowpane.

My last memories come rushing back in a chaotic flood: the battle in the snow, the terrifying surge of power through my veins, the feeling of utter depletion as I collapsed.

I remember the safety of Corvak’s arms, and then nothing.

He brought me here. He brought me to a real room, with a real bed.

I push myself up, my muscles screaming in protest, a deep, aching soreness settling into my bones.

And then I see him. He is sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to me, his broad shoulders slumped in exhaustion as he gazes out the small window.

I see the fresh, crude bandage on his forearm where I wounded him, and the darker, more serious stains that mar the back of his tunic from the wounds he took in the fight.

He is hurt. He is hurt because of me.

He turns as he senses me stirring, his bronze-gold eyes full of a weary relief.

It’s clear he has not slept at all, and spent the entire night watching over me.

Before he can speak, before I can even properly process my own situation, the words are tumbling out of my mouth, my voice a raw, raspy whisper.

“Are you hurt?” I asked.

A strange sound rumbles in his chest. It takes me a moment to recognize it as a soft, tired laugh, a sound of pure disbelief. He shakes his head, a faint, wry smile touching his lips.

“I am alive,” he said, his voice rough with exhaustion. “Thanks to you.”

I stare at him, confused. My memory of the end of the fight is a blur of light and terror and then nothing.

“The things you do not remember…” he begins, his voice gentle. “You saved us, Diana. Your magic… it was like nothing I have ever seen. You turned two of them to stone. The others fled from you in terror.”

I listen in stunned silence, my mind struggling to comprehend his words.

I did that? I, who have spent years as a helpless prisoner, wielded a power that made my captors flee in terror?

I try to reconcile the memory of my own paralyzing fear with his description of my immense power, and I cannot.

It feels he is talking about someone else, some powerful, mythical warrior, not me.

He tells me how he carried me through the snow, how he found this village, this inn.

He tells me we are safe, at least for now. The Purna are gone. I am free.

After Corvak finishes his story, a new kind of silence settles in the small room. It is the silence of an ended war, the quiet that follows a storm. I give thanks that I am not in a cage. I am not being hunted. I am not a specimen being observed.

I am simply a woman, in a warm room, and I am free. The feeling is so vast, so overwhelming, it is almost as terrifying as the imprisonment was. It is a wide, open space after a lifetime in a cramped, dark cell, and I do not know how to move in it.

Relief washes over me, it is intense beyond belief.

But right behind the relief, a new kind of fear begins to creep in.

Uncertainty. What happens now? Where do we go?

My old life, my village, my family—they are all gone, turned to ash and memory.

The Purna are still out there somewhere, and their hatred for me will only have intensified.

And the shadowy entity that commands them, the true source of all my pain, is an even greater, unknown threat.

My gaze finds Corvak. He is the only solid thing in my new, uncertain world.

My past is a graveyard, and my future is a terrifying, unknown path shrouded in mist. But as I look at him, at the steady, unwavering loyalty in his eyes, I realize that I am not walking that path alone.

My newfound freedom is immense, a burden that is both glorious and terrifying.

But as I meet his gaze, I feel strong enough to bear it.