Page 1 of The Healing Dragon (The Red Book #2)

CHAPTER ONE

JANELLE

T he illusion of freedom is as borrowed as time. It’s impressive what life can make out of us. I went from prey to hunter in a matter of days. The fate I was eager to escape came to find me where I hid. I'm under no illusion it won’t find me again.

I hear the cracking of sticks as my target closes in.

“One,” I count under my breath.

I look over my shoulder, leaning against a tree, shielding me from sight. The creature is unsuspecting of my presence, heading exactly where I set my trap.

Crack. “Two.” Crack. “Three.” Crack. “Four.” Crack. I smile to myself and whisper, “five.”

The snap of the trap echoes in the forest. The creature thrashes violently. It fights to no avail as it hangs upside down tied by its legs.

“It’s not dead,” Ulysses says from my side.

I nearly jump out of my skin. He seems to have materialized out of thin air.

I give him a glare I exclusively use for him.

I met him at the small town I took refuge in a couple of weeks ago.

For some unknown reason, he has taken a liking to me despite my best efforts to avoid him.

Like a bad smell, he seems to have clung to me and is nearly impossible to shake off.

I’ve concluded that my persistence in keeping my distance might actually encourage him. So now I just hope he gets bored.

“The trap is not meant to kill it.” I take a step forward and pull a knife from my thigh strap. I throw it at an angle and it hits its mark in a breath. “Now, it’s dead,” I say.

The creature drops, hanging limp in the trap.

Ulysses doesn’t look impressed. Quite the opposite. I still have no idea what he does for a living. In my time in town, I’ve seen him everywhere but at a job. Yet, he has an endless amount of coins and time on his hands.

“Help me get it down?” I ask as I move to the creature.

Ulysses looks at the deer, then back to me. Disgust is clear in his expression.

“I am a vegetarian.”

I roll my eyes. “Since when?”

“Since you asked me to help you carve that thing,” he says with crossed arms.

“If you’re not going to help then you can leave,” I say.

“See you later, Janelle,” Ulysses says.

I pull my knife back and wipe it clean. By the time I cut down the trap, he’s gone and I’m alone again.

The fresh air of the forest chills the sweat on my skin. I look down at my bloody hands. Only more crimson will paint my nails before the Fates are done with me. I know it in my bones. No matter how far I run, what was written for me will always find me.

I want to believe it all started the night my father led an attack on the Black Castle, declaring war on our King.

The King took mercy on me and let me go when he read through the minds of my father’s men and found me ignorant of his plans.

But, that doesn't erase the blood that stained my hands that night.

My inaction was just as much murder as if I had lit the match myself.

A little voice inside my head fears I pushed the first domino that started it all many months before the attack.

I went to the Fate’s temple and pleaded with them.

I begged for them to intervene with my father’s plan to marry me off to Brandon Oscuro.

They accepted and I was punished. My soul was bound to a cruel man who saw me as nothing but a pawn.

I committed my last heinous crime that night when my blade ended his life and forever freed me from his grasps in this world.

A sinking feeling tells me none of this is over.

My father took the Red Book and his plans for it are a mystery to even myself.

My role in this will only end where it started.

The voices that haunt me in every dream remind me of it, like I could ever forget .

They are tattoos written across my skin in invisible ink, a color only my eyes can see.

My time is coming.