Page 16 of Unraveled (A Kingdom of Beasts and Ruins #1)

The day crawls to an end as the dull light of a stormy sunset signals the magical hour of my escape. I reach for the double doors and open them to the dark hall.

The enchantment is still in place, keeping me locked in this room. I hum and study the emptiness beyond. The rain ceased, but it remains cool and gloomy, even for this time of year.

Can I unravel this bubble of magic without my amulet?

Ever since he stole my necklace, I haven’t felt magic—not unless I was touching one of those climbing roses. I freeze and slowly turn to the corner, where the creeping branches stretch over the wall and above the door.

Can I use the roses to harness magic?

I take a leaf and my heart booms in my ear. I feel its power fluttering like a bird’s delicate heart, humming under my fingertips.

“I want to leave this room,” I whisper.

The leaves move with a breeze I can’t feel, then the first threads of power emerge from the stems and reach for me. It tells me it’s dangerous, but slowly, it reveals the spell to me.

The bubble that keeps me inside is no longer invisible to my eyes.

I draw back, wheezing with the effort of unmaking the enchantment from where I stand in the corner, still holding the leaf between my fingers.

Free of the room and rushing down the halls, I keep my feet light over the rugs. My breathing is loud—too loud. I’ll call all the slumbering beasts to me if I can’t calm down.

I tighten my hold on the rose vine that guides me through the never-ending maze.

The stems are at least an inch thick, and the thorns shift away from my touch, leaving behind small traces of magic.

There is no time to obsess over something I can’t understand.

But the questions still swirl in my head.

Why?

Why could I escape my prison by asking this plant to help me?

Why are the roses turning red with my touch?

Why would an ancient spirit let me out when the result would weaken the wards around the castle?

The delicate petals of the rose shift from black to a bright crimson. The transition is smooth, leaving behind gentle trails of magic that appear light blue and yellow.

Closing my eyes, I force my thoughts back to my mother’s pendant and focus on the safety it provides me, the familiarity of its weight, the power it allows me to wield.

The rose cane drums under my fingertips, guiding me forward. Through the web of tightly wound magical threads that wrap around the castle walls and the roses, I can feel the familiar beating of my artifact.

I’m getting closer.

And Morgana was right, the beasts are slumbering. This almost feels too easy.

I don’t let go of the plant until the stems thin out and stop near the familiar study’s door, where Finley stitched my wounds.

That night I didn’t notice roses growing outside, which could mean they’re expanding—or that I was too traumatized to notice them.

As I push the door open, and I expect something to pop out of the shadows to snatch me.

After making sure the room is truly empty, I step into its darkness, closing the door behind me. The sun is peeking out, and I have fifteen minutes at most. I rush to the desk. It’s the most logical place to hide a magical necklace away and out of sight.

I fumble through the drawers, sifting through quill tips, old ink pots, and disheveled plumes. The amulet isn’t here.

My heart hammers in my throat as I pull a new drawer open, my eyes flashing to the door, expecting the beast to come barreling in at any moment.

My mother’s necklace hums at me—a warm energy in clear contrast to the chill of the morning. It’s close, but I’m not used to tracking magic across a room in this way and can’t place it clearly.

Shadows stretch through every inch of the study, and it looks so much darker than earlier in the week. I try to ignore the phantom ache in my ribs.

The air is heavy with the musk of old books and the distinct scent of pine that reminds me of Ash.

I yank open a second drawer and move its contents aside. Scrolls, leather ribbons, and a letter opener. My hand shakes as it hovers over the blade. I pick it up and slide it under the layers of my slip, right between my breasts.

The edges of my new weapon aren’t sharp, but it’s pointy.

I move to the other side of the desk and pause when the distinct sound of rock scraping rock pierces the dreary, silent space.

Jerking up, I inspect the study. It’s empty.

Everything appears the same as when I entered... right?

“Naheli?” My voice trembles as I glance at the shadowed corners, expecting the ancient spirit to morph out of one. Nothing happens. She’s not here.

I’m going mad.

Yet every single hair on my body stands on end as I stare unblinkingly at the sculpture in the corner.

Something is different. The beautiful fae is just as she was before, but there, behind the massive wings that cover her face, there’s a soft red light highlighting her stone feathers. My mother’s amulet.

But instead of relief, dread sinks into me, and I’m unable to move a muscle to cross the space to retrieve it.

The early evening moonlight rolls across the statue’s surface.

I attempt to push aside the irrational fear inside me, and my natural instinct demanding that I run away. I take a step around the desk, and then, the sound of stone scraping again. A shiver races up my spine, and I stare in horror as the statue comes alive.

Her movements are impossible. They defy reality. As if she were flesh instead of marble, a beast unfurls before me. Her massive white wings stretch outwards, framing a body of haunting beauty and a face of nightmares.

I stumble back against the wall of books behind me, gasping as the creature takes a hesitant step forward, as if testing the weight of her body and the limits of her mobility.

In the center of her naked chest, the silver of my necklace shines against her pale skin. The stone glows red with the rhythm of my heartbeat.

Thump, thump, thump .

With a trembling hand, I pull my small blade out of my dress. Red irises that burn through the milkiness of her eyes follow my every move.

A snarl leaves her throat, lips parting to reveal rows of jagged teeth protruding from bleeding gums.

Perhaps she isn’t rabid, like the beasts roaming the castle’s courtyard. Perhaps... she’s like Alaris in the kitchen, or like Morgana. I’m frozen, unblinking, while fear rushes through my body.

She lunges across the room without warning. Her movements are eerily silent and too fast for a thing of her size.

I scream and bolt. The desk behind me splits under her weight as she crashes over its thick wood to slam against the bookcase to my right.

It collapses on impact, wood splinters from the broken bookshelves raining down on us.

Artifacts fall and shatter on the ground, and I jump over them.

Leather-bound tomes hit my shoulders and head, no matter how much I try to duck on my way to the door.

The air shifts, warm and humid. The statue is far too close.

I reach with my empty hand for the handle, but a claw snags on the edge of my dress, yanking me back. I turn, barely keeping my balance, and swing my stolen letter opener at her face. She is undeterred and unharmed.

My eyes meet hers. Red is all I see right before she collides with me and my blade bounces off her smooth stone skin.

We tumble to the floor, and the adrenaline tingling through my body keeps me from fainting. I strike at her again and again. My knuckles split, and my blood stains her white face.

The scent of her sour breath fans over my cheeks, making my stomach churn.

I tighten my grip on the hard surface of her, fighting with all my strength to push her body off mine, but she doesn’t move an inch. The pressure of stone pressing down against every soft part of my body is too much. The weight of her steals my air.

The lunargyre snaps her jaws at my hands and my face, and drool slides down my cheek, blending in with my tears.

Pain radiates from my old wound as stitches tear open and my muscles strain to keep her vicious teeth away from my face. I’m barely holding on.

This is how I die.

Something deep inside my stomach stirs as my amulet, hanging from her long neck, swings closer to my heart. Heat flows through my veins with a familiar magic. A power that surges, making my skin tight and hot. It claws at my insides, demanding to be unleashed.

A cry leaves my lips, and my elbows shake with tension. Confusion clouds my panicked thoughts. I don’t understand where the pressure in my stomach originates from. The depths of my gut? Or is it from the amulet hanging so close, though still out of reach?

The power lurks hotter inside my body, but I can’t wield it—not unless I can snatch my stone from her.

“Nera!” A deep male voice booms from the hall outside, and the door blows open a second later.

A tempest of gold ink and black mist bursts into the room just before Ash’s body collides with the white-marble beast, sending them both tumbling to the ground and away from me. A pile of feathered wings tangles in a whirlwind of snarls and claws.

They move too fast for me to follow as I crawl back until my back hits whatever’s left of the bookcase behind me and then scramble to my feet, all without tearing my eyes from the beasts.

I should leave now. I only have minutes at most before one of them is dead and the other hunts me down.

With bated breath, I do my best to track Ash’s maneuvers. A blur of flowing, intricate movements as he avoids the marble beast’s attacks with impressive precision.

He weaves around her lunges, his own strikes aimed to slow her down but not kill. I press my lips together and edge along the wall toward the door. My heart drums in my ears.

What if I leave and he dies while saving me? It’s his fault I’m here—and I hate him. I shift toward the door with more purpose, but my muscles clamp down, refusing to move.

I don’t care . But the words don’t sound true, even in my head.