Page 4

Ignatia

“What the fuck!” I shout as I look outside the dumpster. Adrenaline pounds through every blood vessel.

Shit! That was too close.

I jump out the dumpster, taking only a glimpse at the man I just punched. He's tall, blonde and has a black suit.

Not enough time to look.

I bolt down the alleyway. I must keep going. I can't stay. I need to get to Caelestia before someone knows who I am.

Or rather, what I am.

I almost turn the corner before my foot slips on a can in the alleyway. Damn it! My legs slide from under me and my ass lands on cement.

Pain throbs from my stomach, earning a wince. I have to keep going.

“Hey!”

I twist over my shoulder to see him sitting and looking my way, rubbing his temple. That took him thirty seconds to recover from. He's already pushing himself up on his feet, probably doesn't remember I hit him.

I scramble to get on my feet when I misstep and trip myself again. Fuck! I'm dead!

“Hey! It's okay.”

“It's not okay you fucking bag of shit!” I snap before I meet his eyes. Blue eyes. Beautiful blue eyes. A watercolor painting of a summer sky, only for a drop of black to blotch the piece, creating a gray ring around his pupil.

He's…

He's a backstabbing Amarian motherfucker! What am I thinking?

He’ll kill me if he knows what I am.

I swing my fist at him before he strongly grasps my wrist. I counter with my other fist to land the blow, but he stops that one too. It's so close to his cheek but can't move further.

“Easy,” he murmurs, with a soft gaze. “I only want to help.”

“To help?” It's not going to stop me from punching him.

“Yes. I'm sorry about the gun. I thought you were a dreamscreecher.”

“And what makes you think I'm not?”My stomach churns. Why the fuck would I ask that out of all questions?

The bastard smirks. “Well a dreamscreecher would've shifted and eaten me alive already. They wouldn't run and resort to punches.”

That's a stupid leap in logic. “You're saying I'm weak? Is that why you want to help?”

“No! You're injured. You got wounds all over you that look like they need stitches or something.”

He scans my black ripped apart shirt and jeans, as if he's really concerned about me. He's a good actor. I'll give him that.

But I'm not a fool. My father taught me better. “Why would you want to help me?”

His nose scrunches as if it's a ridiculous question. “Why wouldn't I? If I were in your shoes, I would want help. What kind of fool would I be to just let you stay out here bleeding in a dumpster all night?”

I quirk a brow. Does he… actually want to help? Is he telling the truth?

No matter how loving they are, never,and I mean never, trust an Amarian.

Father’s words echo in my head. I know his warning is true.

Does it still apply if he doesn't know that I'm a dreamscreecher?

Amias tilts his head. “Is helping others a foreign thing to you? Do you not do that in your own kingdom?”

“My own kingdom?”

“Well you have a slight accent. I don't recognize it though.”

I jerk my head in confusion. So he really doesn't know I'm a dreamscreecher.

He loosens his grip slightly. “So…if I let go of your wrists, can you promise you're not gonna punch me? And perhaps let me help?”

I hesitate. He doesn't know where I'm from, so I guess that means he doesn't think I'm a dreamscreecher.

He seems genuine for the moment and I do have wounds that need healing.

Maybe I should get help. With caution of course. “Fine. Just this once.”

He smiles before releasing my wrists. I pull them to my lap, refusing to keep my eyes off him. He isn't trying to trick me, is he?

I squint and observe his features. His sandy blonde hair is well kept. He's got a handsome jawline, not too sharp but not too soft.

My gaze falls to his chest that's just slightly exposed under that slightly unbuttoned shirt. So he's also…got a chest…

My cheeks must've been burned under Estrella's star. I shouldn't be checking him out. Now’s not the time for hookups!

“How did you get these wounds? They look pretty deep.” From the way he stares at me, it's almost like some sort of telepathy, telling me he really cares.

I bite my tongue hard just thinking about these wounds. I barely survived back there. I was just lucky enough to escape their claws and teeth.

“Tear her so she's nothing but scraps of meat!” Vasilisa yelled when I was escaping from my kingdom, her green eyes now glowing purple. “If you all want to live, you'll fucking kill her!”

I kept racing through the forest in my dreamscreecher form, leaping over bushes and scrubs. It helps having the body of a panther, but it's not much of an advantage when my chasers had the same form. Then, having dusty purple fur doesn't blend in well with the dark forest.

With my four legs numb, I threw myself at Amara’s protective barrier, diving in horns first. By chance, I had thrown my puma-like body into a weaker part that let me through.

I tumbled into the grass and looked through the nearly transparent pink barrier, only to see the dreamscreechers trying to break in.

They screeched as their dark eyes and claws searched for an opening, scratching the barrier and snapping their sharp jaws.Some rammed their horns into it, but it did nothing.

But the border had just been strengthened. A second later, and I would have been ripped apart.

How the fuck did I make it through?

I forced myself up on all fours and bolt, despite Amara’s deadly territory.

The Amara Kingdom is a death trap for dreamscreechers, since they think we're ruthless monsters that need to be killed.

My only chance of survival is getting through to The Kingdom of Stars and Fire, Caelestia, where they treat dreamscreechers like anyone else.

Which means, if I want to survive, I can't mention anything about my past. “I encountered a panther.”

He raises his brows. “Panther? In the city?”

I nod. It's not common to find panthers where there's a lot of humans, but it could happen. Besides I don't think he could tell the difference between panthers and dreamscreechers scratches, since they have the same claws.

He purses his lips before looking back down at my wounds. “How old are you? Do you have any family? Or friends?”

“I'm eighteen.” My heart beats furiously, almost pushing tears at my sockets. “I don't have family…or friends.”

“None?”

“Anyone I've ever cared for is now dead. Besides my mom…but I can barely call her that now.” Barely since she decided to make me suffer.

Images of who I've lost clear all other thoughts. My father, Kaius and Clarissa. Their cries. Their screams. Their trembling, knowing their ending was before them.

Fuck.

Amias sighs. “I’m so sorry.”

I look into those blue eyes again, my vision starting to blur. His eyes only reflect pity. I wipe away tears, my heart wilting in shame. “Don't say that,” I snap. “I'm not someone to have pity for.”

“Okay…” His stare doesn't change.

“I will pop you in the mouth if you keep looking at me like that. I'm not weak!”

“I still don't think you're weak.” He gives me a side glance.

“Just change the subject.”

He examines my wounds again. “I'll take you to the hospital. They can—"

“Hospital?” I spit.

He flinches back. “Yeah. What's wrong with that?”

The truth would be that I'm afraid. I don't know if doctors can tell I'm a dreamscreecher. What if there's a genetic marker I don't know about? Or what if they test my blood? They'd kill me!

But I can’t just say that to him. Who knows what he'd do with that information? “I can't go. It's not safe for me right now.”

He twists his lips. “Is someone following you?”

“I don't know.”

“If you're worried about being documented, I can get my personal doctor. No records, just checking on your wounds and stitching.”

I perk up. “Nothing else? No blood testing or anything?”

He chuckles. “Why would they? They aren't doing experiments on you like an animal.”

I consider the idea. It's better than the hospital but a risk nonetheless. I could still get exposed, though perhaps seeing his personal doctor makes it less probable.

Besides, I need to be healthy to make the journey. I won't be able to make it through the desert with these open wounds.

Maybe it's best that I let him help for the time being. I mean, my father didn't mention anything about when Amarians have no clue who you are. Maybe this is good for me.

With a last sigh, I give my final verdict. “Fine. I'll go.”

His eyes seem to twinkle, which takes me aback. “Great!” He stands before reaching a hand towards me. “You're fine with standing on your own right? I can carry you if you need me too.”

My cheeks get boiling hot. He doesn't understand but we're still enemies. “No way on planet Adoro I'm letting you carry me!”

His cheeks turn into a pinkish tint. “Sorry. Just trying to help.”

I shoo his hand away and push myself up. “I know. I'm still not allowing it.”

“You know, I never caught your name.” He looks down at me and I suddenly feel short. I'm not though. I'm taller than most men in my kingdom.

My thoughts scatter. Ignatia might be a familiar name to them. Maybe I could tell them considering most have only seen me in dreamscreecher form, but still. It's better not to risk it.

What name? What name….

Clarissa. No! Might be familiar too. Clar… Clar…

“Clara!” I flinch at my outburst, realizing how unconvincing that was.

Shit! He's going to know!

I clear my throat and hold my chin high to sound more confident. “My name is Clara.”

He squints at me for a second before nodding his head. “Amias.”

“Amias?” It sounds familiar.

“That's my name.” He grins. “ It's nice to meet you, Clara .”

I bite my tongue when it rolls out of his mouth. I'm ninety percent sure he knows I pulled that name from thin air. But he doesn't pry further, instead nodding his head towards the direction we're going. I follow him to the end of the alleyway and out of whatever festival this is.