Page 12 of Heirs of the Cursed (A Curse for Two Souls #1)

11

Dawnfall

The moon had always been her faithful companion, showing the way ahead in the darkness.

She hadn’t been able to sneak out to see Caeli after the big show, the profits of which were more than a hundred gold vramnias. Apparently, the illusion she had created the night before—which involved exotic dancers—had pleased the king’s soldiers enough to buy another ticket for the following week.

It was the next day when Darcia made her way to her girlfriend’s hut.

Caeli didn’t deserve such mistreatment from Conrad. She knew the smart thing to do would be to break up with her, but if she did so, her girlfriend would know it was out of protection and find a way to convince her otherwise. She was too smart for her own good, and Darcia loved her too much to let her go.

She plunged into the autumn evening, the dry leaves crunching under the weight of her feet. Darcia tilted her head back to admire the moon and stars that greeted her, crossing her arms over her chest to shelter herself from the cold. The fabric of her green dress was so thin that she regretted not bringing a cloak. If she fell ill, Conrad would see that she paid dearly for it.

Darcia spun around and turned her back on the tall houses to admire the darkness of the forest. The smell of wet earth intertwined with the soft wind that stirred the branches of the trees, as she climbed up one of the steep slopes to the market street. The echo of her footsteps was accompanied by the distant rumble of thunder. With an uneasy heart, she continued walking until she crossed into one of the alleys, feeling something watching her sibylline.

She turned right, a shiver running down her spine. It wasn’t because of the cold or out of fear, but because of something else.

There was a wolf .

Darcia remained still in the darkness; the shadows that embraced her were her greatest allies and protectors. But the animal became aware of her presence within seconds. When their gazes met, the wolf tipped his head to the side and Darcia held her breath.

Time stood still.

Unfazed by her presence, the wolf proceeded to lick his paw nonchalantly. She crouched down to observe him in admiration as the moonlight and the small oil lamps illuminated his coal-dark fur. His sharp gold-rimmed eyes glowed so brightly that Darcia thought it was an illusion . . .

By the Triad, he was so beautiful it hurt to look at him.

The wolf rose swiftly, startling Darcia. Yet, he didn’t attack her; instead, he softened his gaze as if welcoming her. She remained still as the wolf circled her, feeling his warm breath brushing against her cheeks.

Darcia closed her eyes to prove she posed no threat, and a gasp of surprise left her lips when the wolf set a paw on her hand.

Distant whispers echoed in her ears. Not whispers, but a forgotten melody. Although Darcia tried to push the voices away, they grew louder and louder until they blurred into reality.

The wolf insisted with his paw, urging her to follow. For some reason, Darcia obeyed without hesitation, moving forward. She stumbled on the wet cobblestones and muddy remnants of her shoes as she tried to keep up. With each step she took, the chanting enveloped her in its embrace.

It wasn’t long before she spotted the jewelry store that Caeli’s mother owned: The Enchanted Petal. It was small, but Ghana had managed to set everything up nicely. Both the racks and the shelves were arranged as if each piece of jewelry were a work of art kept with affection.

Her breath turned icy at the sight of the wolf stopping just outside the open door. How had he known where she was headed in the first place? Darcia looked at the wooden structure and then at the animal in search of answers.

A thud alerted her, urging her to step inside the store.

She sharpened her eyes, trying to make out a glimpse of Caeli’s wavy mane, or the sparkle in her mother’s blue eyes. What she found revealed that it wasn’t a female figure, but someone else.

Anyone driven by reason would have run for help, but Darcia was impulsive and the goddesses hadn’t endowed her with great survival instincts. That was what made her slap Conrad, what made her sneak out from her home that night . . . And what made her walk inside without a second thought.

The thief was so focused that he didn’t hear the faint creaking of the hinges as she pushed the door open. Darcia made sure to leave it just like she’d found it, slipping into the shadows and taking a thin metal rod from a shelf, which resembled a fire poker.

When she was close enough, she raised it over her head.

As she was about to strike, the thief spun on his heels and caught the metal rod with one hand. Darcia gasped in surprise at the speed of his movements. Despite her best attempt, she couldn’t see beyond the black mask he wore, aside from the emerald glow in his eyes.

“That was very disrespectful of you.”

She didn’t let that soften her heart. Darcia raised her free hand and slapped him in the face, nearly knocking him to the ground. She cursed under her breath at the tingling sensation that spread through her palm, but a deep, melodic laugh made her frown.

He was laughing .

There was little she could do before he pushed her to the ground and threw the metal poker away from them.

A deep pain shot through Darcia’s bruised back.

“Bloody bastard!” she spat.

“Such elegance, my lady.”

“You’re stealing.”

The thief gave a bitter laugh before grimacing wryly, “What gave me away?”

“You have five seconds to get out of here with your pockets empty if you don’t want me to call the Royal Army.”

“You can try,” he defied her. Darcia couldn’t see him, but she knew he was smiling by the tone in his voice. “By the time you open your mouth, I’ll be gone.”

She gasped. “Who in the Akhirat are you?”

“I can be whoever you want me to be, gorgeous. Or no one, if you prefer.”

Darcia’s neck reddened with hate. Driven by such dark emotions, she raised her arm one more time, but he was faster and dodged the punch aimed at his face.

“Too slow.”

“Leave or I swear to the goddesses . . .”

Horses hooves, metallic clashes of armor and hoarse sounds of rustling warned Darcia of the arrival of the soldiers before she saw their shadows in front of the store. The thief moved with great speed, dragging her behind a shelf, where darkness shielded them from the approaching oil lamps and eyes. She tried to pull away from his grasp, but his strong hands held her in place, preventing her from moving a single muscle.

“Stay still.”

Darcia shifted uncomfortably. “Don’t touch me.”

“Oh, I’m all in for some personal space. But if I do, we’ll be in big trouble.”

The thief’s gloved hands were as cold as ice. She had to press her lips together to keep from letting out a gasp.

“Let me go or I’ll scream.”

He arched an eyebrow, challenging her to carry out her threat. His green eyes drifted to her neck, to the boreal hue radiating from her pendant.

“Would you rat us out?” he questioned.

“If that keeps you away from me? Yes, I would.”

He let out an amused laugh. It was so soft that Darcia thought she’d imagined it. The king’s soldiers stood in a circle just in front of the stores, giving no thought to the ajar door.

The thief’s voice grew even darker as he whispered to her, “I’m sorry to have met you this way, gorgeous. I would have tried so much harder in courtship if we were under different circumstances.”

Darcia struck his arms several times with her fists and opened her mouth to let out a curse.

“It’s a shame it has to be this way,” he whispered next to her ear, kissing Darcia’s neck with the edge of his dagger. The hilt clashed against the many rings that decorated his fingers. “One sound from your mouth and I’ll slit your throat.”

She waited a couple of seconds before mumbling, “You’re a dirty, bastard of a thief.”

“I like dirty things very much. Now, please close that pretty little mouth of yours so I can hear what they’re saying.”

Darcia turned her attention away from the dagger and focused on the soldiers. The Chaser jumped off his horse and Darcia shrank back in his presence. No matter how much mortal danger there was inside the store, she’d rather face a petty thief than a skilled assassin—even one that had been so polite in her abode.

“Do you have anything for me, gentlemen?” Harg voice reached her ears beyond the glass.

“Nothing for the moment, General,” replied one of the soldiers. “We have been investigating the city thoroughly. There’s no sign of strange magic. Not even the stones from the Fallen Kingdom have undergone any change.”

“And physically?”

“We wouldn’t know, sir,” replied another. “There are many women in these lands who are the same age as the Dark Twins. None of them have given us any reason to suspect.”

“Such an interesting subject,” the thief whispered in her ear. “I bet they have put a very juicy bounty on their heads.”

“And how much money will they pay for yours?” she mumbled.

“I’m sure you’d love to know.”

Darcia wanted to respond, but Harg spoke again.

“We have less than three months to find the Dark Twins and deliver them to the king if we don’t want to become food for his crows. So I advise you to be cautious and not get carried away by vices.”

They all nodded in unison.

“As much as I like to be in this position with you, I must leave. I’m not going to risk my neck for jewelry of questionable value.” He stroked her hair seductively. “I hope we meet again.”

“If I ever see you again, I’ll kill you.”

“That impulsiveness will destroy you someday, you know that?”

His last words reached Darcia’s ears like a drowned out whisper, fading in the gloaming shadows of the jewelry store before he vanished completely.

Darcia’s heart raced with dread, placing a hand around her neck where there wasn’t even a single wound from the dagger the thief had held to her neck moments before. Her uneven breathing made her dizzy, and she soon realized she had to get out of there.

She needed to get some air.

She needed to run.

But she couldn’t, not when the Royal Army was only a few feet away.

A stabbing pain pierced her head, and Darcia stifled a scream. A myriad of thoughts and emotions hit her like arrows. She covered her ears with her hands, trying to maintain control, to make her power respond to her . . . But the threads of her own mind were slipping through her fingers.

She didn’t scream, nor did she call for help.

Darcia just lay there, on the floor, begging the goddesses to soothe the pain before fainting.