Page 10 of Tales of a Deadly Devotion (Tales of a Monstrous Heart, #2)

Chapter Seven

Kat

Tauria, guardian of the North. Who sang to the heavens and wielded the fire to cleave the earth.

Tauria who showered the world in chaos when she fell. She who burnt first. Teaching her blood that magic holds a price that the divine must pay.

The Ode of Tauria – Unknown

Tauria .

I hadn’t given much thought to my death but I never thought I’d have to endure it being mocked by my own name.

There was no peace in the darkness of my dreams. Just that name, haunting me. In the blackness of that abyss came the short smears of colour bleeding through the gloom like an unfinished painting. Too much bitter, sour rot down my throat. Packed too tightly as if I was buried in a grave.

My own.

I could hear the rattling creak of wheelbarrows. Feel the wet press of mud beneath my fingers. Flashes of pallid, grey skin from the bodies hidden beneath Daunton Wood. The icy stiff flesh pressed against my own.

Live, my mother’s voice commanded. Turning me to the brush of breath against my ear, only for agony to claw at my body once more – trying to drag me back.

The screeching scream of foul things followed, making me flinch away, only to be comforted by the sharp scent of beasam bark. The cool relief of his magic against my burning skin.

Emrys . I dragged in a breath, wincing as it scraped at my raw throat. Trying to find him in the abyss, curling towards the barest dim flicker of silver, demonic light. A weak grey smudge out of the corner of my eye.

Kat . He called my name so softly, like a blessing or a curse. The phantom brush of his magic around my wrists, weaving between my fingers. Holding on.

The ghost of a caress against my cheek guided me, made breath slip easily through my lips but too swiftly it changed into a vicious agonising bite. Sharp teeth scraping bone that sent an excruciating fire through my veins. My throat too dry to scream.

The copper tang of blood heavy on my tongue, sliding down my throat as I choked and gasped for air.

Live for us, Tauria. My mother’s words found me. Joined by distant searching voices, calling my name.

I’m here. I’m here. I wanted to beg but nothing came from between my lips.

Beg. That monster’s voice hissed into my ear, the stench of burning flesh so potent I could taste it in my mouth.

A razor-sharp blow came across my back, a horrid animalistic sound filling my ears as pain raced up my spine – making my back bow as I lurched into waking, forcing myself to open my eyes.

Live . That command came again as I panted, eyes scanning the dim room. My fingers curled into the damp sheets beneath me. Desperately clinging to consciousness.

Nausea rolled through me as the room span and twisted. Murky smears filled my vision. The dark wood and navy fabric of the bed I lay in.

I rolled to free myself from the covers, only to tumble to the ground.

The jarring pain of the impact shooting down my spine, muscles stiff and aching, but the cold polished wood was a relief against my burning skin as I gasped against the floorboards.

Digging my nails into the cracks between the boards.

I glanced up through the tangled curtain of my hair, seeing the door blur in my vision. Hearing the muffled taunt of those voices. The gleam of light beneath the door too distant.

Searing heat rolled through me. My magic rising from its slumber with fury. Threatening to engulf me. To crumble me to nothing but ash, slipping easily between the floorboard cracks. Lost for evermore.

Sweat dripped from my temples. Every breath scraped against my lungs painfully. Darkness creeping into the corners of my vision.

I dragged myself forwards desperately. Tangled in my own damp nightdress, anything to reach the door.

Please. Barely a croak escaped my lips, my fingers fumbling with the turning of the doorknob. Needing to escape the nightmare. The door swung free on the third try, taking me with it. I tumbled forwards. Only there was no hallway.

No William or Alma waiting. No Emrys. Nothing but the endless foggy chill of night air. My hands pressed into marshy ground, muddy water sliding between my fingers as a rainstorm hammered down in relentless strikes. Small icy pinpricks against my burning flesh as I knelt in the boggy grass.

The darkness of Blackthorn Forest beckoned in the distance as I tipped my head back to the thunderous sky.

I greedily gulped down the night air. Pressing chilled fingers against my breastbone, letting the rain drip down my front, opening my mouth so the frigid drops could chase away the bitterness of blood and ash on my tongue.

Forgive me. My father’s voice whispers against my ear, brought by the harsh winter wind. Then came the memory. The roughness of his beard damp with tears as the mud and grass beneath me shifted to wet sand.

The world broke apart before me, a mix of storm winds, dark smoke and memory. The trees in the distance shifted, bending and bowing like great waves. Until their silver bark became grey sea foam, briny salt thick on my lips.

The north sea. The shores of Tauria.

How viciously the rain pelted my skin – just as it had then, filling my bones with a coldness I’d never lost.

I saw the tall shape of my father in the distance, broad and bold. How effortlessly he moved through those thick waves to the small waiting boat. His hair drenched. The sharp point of his ears visible through it.

‘Come back,’ the words rasped from between my lips. I tried to get back to my feet but there was nothing but the curtain of rain as it pounded into the earth.

Tauria! The ghost of my mother’s voice called behind me, broken with sadness, but I didn’t listen as I ran, the sand wet between my toes just as it had been that day, only to stumble on weak legs and fall to my knees.

Tumbling back into reality, cold mud biting into my flesh, plastering the fabric of my nightgown to my legs.

Panting, I turned. Wildly looking for him through the downpour.

I needed to go back. To tell him not to go.

To stay.

A king’s blood, for a king’s awakening , came a dark, hissing voice inside my mind. A scream slipping from my lips as agony bit into my neck, making my wet fingers clutch it. I jerked around, waiting to see fangs and claws, yet there was nothing but the house behind me, and the dark night.

Blackthorn Manor was an imposing shadow in the distance with bright yellow light cutting a path through the gloom towards me like a clawed hand reaching out with spread fingers.

How far I’d run. How awfully my limbs ached. No beast from the pit lingered there. It was in my head. It was madness.

My nightmares had followed me here.

‘Wake up,’ I begged helplessly. Uselessly. Trying to pinch my own skin, but the rain made it too slick, the icy chill freezing me in place.

Then that rainwater simmered as it gathered in my muddy palms.

Murderer , screamed though my head, a sharp ache against my temples. Making me clutch my hair as I lurched backwards. Trying to escape, but the long-wet grass suddenly became charred hands that grasped and curled around my limbs. Pulling me down to the earth, trying to bury me whole.

I kicked and fought, rolling myself to dig my fingers into the mud. Only for a horrific weight to press into my spine, fingers gripping my hair to wretch my head back. The burning agony of the skin on my back from his brutality.

Foolish little troll.

A half-sobbed scream slipped from my lips as I fought to be free of that weight. Free of Daunton’s grip. The phantom lash came against my spine, making me cry out like an animal. A sharp kick to the side rolled me across the wet earth until I landed on my back.

Kat! A voice shouted through the agony but there was nothing before me but darkness and the reek of demonic breath as the galmoth loomed over me in that pit, the press of that claw against my heart.

Kat! Emrys’s voice screamed, desperate and real. I wanted to roll towards it but lead filled my veins, pressing me into the soggy earth as I choked on the taste of my own blood. Screwing my eyes shut, willing myself awake.

Tauria. The name came playfully. Soft and filled with the warmth of her love.

My eyes opened to the wooden beams and the thatching of the roof. No charred hands but the heavy warm covers of a bed weighed me down.

My head fell weakly to the side – and there she was.

Her smile soft and playful as she lay next to me, book open in her hands, waiting. Her hair a chestnut disarray. Thick lashes casting shadows against her cheeks. The orange light from the hearth illuminating her beauty. Sharp and inescapable as it made her eyes seem umber.

My mother.

‘You’re here.’ The words were a croaked whisper between my chapped lips, smelling the lavender and healing herbs of her. She was real, she existed for the merest of moments.

She didn’t answer. Yet she leant closer, her calloused fingers gently tipping my chin to lay a kiss against my cheek. There was a slight tremble on her lips. As if I’d broken her heart too.

You’re not finished yet, my love . Her breath was suddenly as cold as the icy wind against my skin.

Live . I tried to curl my fingers into her hair, but all I met was grass and, in a blink, there was nothing but the bitter night before me.

Alone. The last place I ever wanted to be was alone. The vast bruised sky endless above me, illuminated by white flashes of lightning as the storm raged above.

I choked on a sob, rain running down my throat, thumping ruthlessly against my bruised skin. My neck burnt as if the fangs were still buried deep, the old scars down my back a searing torment of all my mistakes.

‘Kat!’ came my name again. The prince from beneath. But I couldn’t see him.

Pain feasted on me as I curled onto my side, trembling as I gathered my knees to my chest. The barest movement stealing my strength until I became limp and still. That wishing stone before me tangled in the weeds, flickering weakly like a heartbeat.