Page 6

Chapter three

T he smell of urine and feces polluted the room, forming a stench that I would not miss. The colorful bruises along the side of my face were gently pressed into the cold metal bar of the cell as I listened to the sounds of the other prisoners coughing.

Hugh had to hit me—I knew it from the moment we realized we were caught.

Not that I ever blamed him for the things he was forced to do.

It was clear he blamed himself enough. There was always a fleeting look of regret that washed over his face when he saw the wounds he inflicted—making my stomach flutter with guilt each time.

He had told me to be prepared to leave tonight, but we were caught before he could give me an exact time. And after what felt like hours of waiting, my eyelids were starting to droop. Each time startled me awake again until I ultimately gave up and decided to pace my cell.

It was well over an hour before the sound of hurried steps down the stairs had me rushing back to the bars. Hugh came barreling toward me with a bag stuffed to the brim, keys jingling, and beads of sweat forming along his brow.

“We have to hurry! The guards are changing shifts, and we have to get to the boats.” His tone was clipped as he unlocked my cell door—handing me a dagger.I didn't bother to ask any questions, didn't need to. We had one task, any questions could come later.

Both of us ran up the stairs, keeping our footsteps light, as we navigated through the keep that held so many nightmares.

The entrance to the basement was located in the center of the main floor, done purposefully for those who dared to escape.

But those people didn't plan like Hugh and I had.

After years of training and preparation, our only problem should be staying hidden enough on the beach to get to the dock.

The door at the back of the building came into view, and I felt a slight sense of relief at the thought of my freedom within reach. . . it was almost too good to be true.

“What do we have here?” Odian honeyed. My heart to plummeted into the floorboards beneath me as he and two armed guards stepped out to block our path.

He looked small compared to them, with average height and a narrower build that seemed as if he hadn’t done any actual work in years.

His dead eyes, shadowed by his long white hair, found mine with a wink.

Hugh’s face contorted into a snarl as he readied his sword. “We’re leaving.”

Odian’s jarring laugh filled the room, sending a shiver down my spine. “You truly thought you were getting away with it, didn’t you?”

“I won’t let you use her, she is still a child!” he growled.

Odian clicked his tongue and wagged his finger in Hugh’s direction. “That’s not for you to decide, Hugan.”

Hugh didn’t bother to hear anymore as he attacked, and I quickly followed suit, each of us taking on one of the guards. The man in front of me stood shorter than Hugh but just as bulky. His face was set in grim concentration, but his eyes gave way to the confusion of what he should do to disarm me.

His hesitation was a mistake that he would come to regret.

I surged forward, not giving him the opportunity to dodge or even blink before my knife sliced through his side.

The guards hand reached back before I could completely get away—grabbing my arm—but I sliced once again, this time along his wrist. He grunted in pain and released his hold, but his noise was followed by a grunt from another that pulled my attention.

I watched as Hugh sank to his knees in front of Odian, his hands clutched around the steel dagger that protruded from his stomach.

“ No! ” the floor began to sway from the liquid that instantly gripped the edges of my eyelids.

Blood pounded in my ears as rage consumed me.

Deeper than the disgust I felt when the rebels grabbed onto my body—full of the unsaid promise of what they would later do to me if I didn’t make it out. Stronger than the fear that would paralyze me when Odian had two men hold me still while he fucked a random woman and stared into my eyes.

I knew it was a matter of time before that stare was pinning me in place from above.

Odian stalked around the room, his two guards keeping Hugh from falling over while they pressed their free hands to their own injuries and waited for them to heal.

“He has to die sooner or later, Mira,” Odian said, trying to reason with me.

My vision of red shifted back to Hugh, and he nodded. Pulling the knife from his stomach, he plunged it into the space between the first guard’s legs before promptly stabbing the second guard in the face. The blade at last found its home in the head of the man hunched over.

As Hugh was taking out the guards, Odian ran towards me in a last-ditch effort.

I dove in between his legs, slipping right through his reach.

He couldn't even turn around before I executed the move that Hugh and I had worked on for hours, plunging my dagger through his spine.

Odian sucked in a breath, collapsing to his knees while his fingers tried to reach for the blade, but I pulled it back out long enough for me to slice it through his neck completely.

His body went limp, landing on the ground with two thuds. All the years of torture, humiliation, and belittling led to the pinnacle of this moment. I didn’t have a second to celebrate, to feel any semblance of relief, as I looked up to find my one solace lying on the ground—unmoving.

“Hugh? Hugh, wake up! We have to go!” I declared as I rushed to his side.

The corner of his mouth tried to lift in a sly smile but failed, and my stomach sank.

His eyes cracked open—enough that I could see the familiar chocolate.

“No. . . you need to go.” I shook my head, tears springing to my eyes once again, but this time they weren’t in anger.

“You are special, Mira, don’t let them have that,” he croaked as he grabbed Arimathair, the blue stone set within the pommel glinting in the moonlight. “Take this.”

I shook my head harder, trying and failing to not let his words reach my ears. “No! No! I can’t. . . y-you will heal, you just need to heal,” I reassured, more to myself than to him, as tears poured from my eyes onto his tunic.

He shook his head slightly, whispering, “I won't heal fast enough. . . Go, Mira.” Sobs racked my body, as I stared into his chocolate eyes, memorizing the way the rich, brown edges faded into almost black.

“Go!” he shouted with what seemed like the last ounce of his energy, breaking me from my stupor.

I stumbled, still crying, but I eventually grabbed his sword and bag before sprinting toward the boat.

—

Light spilled in from the gap between the window frame and the board covering the broken glass.

It displayed my small room, which only contained a bed, the bath, and a trunk for my things.

Even under ten layers of blankets, the cold from the night had seeped in through the window and found my bones.

If it wasn’t for the need of warmth and the chamber pot, I wouldn’t bother getting out of bed.

Over the past few days, it had felt like my need for revenge was dwindling, getting replaced by emotions that I couldn’t and didn’t want to decipher.

The bed creaked as I finally got up to relieve myself and build a fire, which heated the cottage to a pleasant enough temperature for me to discard the fur I'd covered myself with while I prepared breakfast. The morning was as dull as my mood, and I debated on whether I should sleep for the rest of the day or check the perimeter.

Sadly, the latter won.

I eventually dressed in a lighter change of clothes, this time opting for tan pants that stopped directly below the knee and a pale blue tunic that matched my eyes.

The pants, thankfully, had a built-in spot for my dagger—allowing me to wear one of my newer pairs of shoes that were supposed to be swifter and quieter.

The music of the air through my hanging trinkets intensified as I opened the door to the vast greenery.

Between these trees, the world used to feel safe, used to feel serene, and I actually enjoyed living here.

But ever since the change in the beasts; every time I left the cottage, I wasn’t sure I would be coming back.

The spring trap once again came up empty, proving even more that it was just a waste of money.

Twigs crunched under my feet as I made my way to the next trap.

Without the support of my boots, my ankles felt both weak and unsteady so I kept my eyes trained on where I took each step while my ears listened to the forest around me.

Before I knew it, I was stumbling upon the squirrel I had used as bait.

Or at least what used to be a squirrel. The little rodent that I’d hoped would be in the stomach of an even bigger animal laid in the center of the still live trap, charred.

Kneeling beside it, I carefully inspected the remains of the bait, running through the possible beasts that could have had enough control to burn this one spot without causing a spreading wildfire.

I leaned in closer ever so slightly, but froze as the sound of a deep, guttural growl rumbled off the trees around me. Every muscle in my body tensed. Slowly raising my gaze, I landed on the source of the sound.

My tense muscles were the only things that kept me from wetting myself as I looked upon one of the rarest beasts of Sedonia and knew that there would be no escape from it. An aufhocker.