Page 17 of Unraveled (A Kingdom of Beasts and Ruins #1)
“Stop.” His breathy voice echoes in the room, breaking through the loud growling of the white beast. My feet obey, even though I’m not sure if he’s talking to me or her. What did he call her? Nera?
Each time Ash’s fists connect with the marble beast’s body, a harsh clack reverberates in the chamber, mixing with the rasp of his labored breathing.
I look through the rubbish on the ground around me, trying to find something to use as a weapon to help him.
Ash isn’t using his magic like he did with the other beasts.
He seems slower. Like he isn’t giving this fight his all. Like... he doesn’t want to hurt her.
Ash tackles her to the ground, drawing my eyes even as I crouch and pull at one of the desk’s legs. The wood groans as I yank and twist to remove it from the fragments of the old desk. It’s heavy, and just what I need.
Ash hisses in pain and grips the beast by the shoulders, pushing her away from his body as she continues to struggle inside the cage of his arms.
“Fuck, Nera. Come back to me.” His voice holds an edge of panic as the lunargyre snarls at him. She’s rabid. Whatever he’s trying to see in her face is gone.
The white beast pushes him back, tearing one of her hands from him, and her sculpted wings unfurl, even crushed under both her weight and his. She lets out a bone chilling screech before her already-sharp claws elongate slowly.
Even in the dim light, her red irises burn bright with hate. She pushes him off, and leaps onto him with the same speed as before, but now golden magic trails her movements, so similar to Ash’s that I’m taken aback.
A guttural roar tears from Ash’s throat when her pointed nails dig into his chest, piercing past black feathers and coming out bright gold.
Blood?
A scream shakes the room, louder than theirs combined.
It takes me a moment to realize it’s me.
I’m the one who’s screaming. I don’t pause to analyze why my skin feels cold and clammy.
Why my mind detaches from my body as I jump over the fallen desk, carrying the desk’s leg like it weighs nothing.
Why I swing it at the white beast, power singing through my veins.
Why I can’t see anything in the moment before it makes contact with her face, before she even looks at me.
Crack .
My weapon hits her chin, hard, and her eyes roll to the back of her head. The stone in my necklace shines brightly against her skin. Glowing faster and faster, matching her heartbeats—or my own. I can’t be sure.
Swirls of my power wrap around her like ropes right before she hits the ground.
My vision sharpens on Ash as he clutches his chest and gasps for air.
I let the shattered wooden leg fall to the ground. He’s staring up at me from the floor with those beautiful pools of gold he has for eyes.
I kneel by him, pressing my hand tightly over his, staving off the flow of blood that stains his pale fingers. Pale, because right now they aren’t covered by feathers or claws.
I don’t know why I’m so scared. “Tell me what to do.”
He swallows and slowly sits up, groaning in pain. His lips have turned a pale shade of mauve, and he looks sickly, unlike the days before. He stares over my shoulder, where the white beast lies, still struggling with the magical bindings that I put around her.
“Go to my—room. Mia.” He points to the door with gold-stained fingers. I never knew the fae bleed gold. “It’s not safe here.”
I open my lips to tell him I won’t be leaving him here to get carved up by that beast. His words register in my mind, and the whys become heavier.
Too many questions, and too few answers.
I clear my throat but keep my distance from him. “She has my amulet,” I say, glancing at the white beast pointedly.
Ash stills. “Ah—you tied her down?”
I shrug, because frankly I don’t know what the fuck I did, but I won’t let him know that. “You need help. Perhaps Finley can?—?”
“He’s not here.” His throat bobs and he moves to stand.
I knew Finley isn’t here, and was wondering where he keeps his medical supplies, but I couldn’t tell Ash how I learned that without getting Morgana in trouble.
Ash’s brows wrinkle and he glares at me, like I’m the one who tore a hole through his chest, not the one to save him.
“My office is destroyed.” He waves at the surrounding mess. “You shouldn’t have left your room, Monster.”
Ungrateful bastard.
“A thank-you for saving your life would suffice...” I snarl, crossing my arms. How stupid would it be to get my necklace now? I could leave while he’s injured, but then again, whatever magic my amulet has, it’s what’s holding the dangerous lunargyre to the ground.
Ash is silent, and just when I think he won’t say a thing, he whispers, “Thank you.”
My heart rate doubles in speed when I meet his gaze. Now that the adrenaline pumping through my veins is gone, and the impending doom of a beast killing us has passed, I notice what he’s wearing.
A loose white shirt with puffed sleeves that gather around his wrists. He clutches his shoulder, and blood stains the fabric, spilling way too fast for comfort. Ash flicks his wings, as if he’s testing that he can still move them. Then he takes a tentative step toward the white beast.
“It’s not safe here right now. Go to my room. The beasts won’t enter. It’s the first door to the left. Wait for me there.” As he steps away, he leaves a trail of blood behind him.
And I shouldn’t care. If he dies, it will set me free of whatever has tethered me to him. I should celebrate on my way out of here.
I stare at the torn fabric where his shoulder meets the wide planes of his muscular chest, and I know I can’t. He’s hurt because of me .
“You’re losing a lot of blood,” I say. “Do you need me to do anything?”
Being a librarian in Penumbra means dealing with magical books, which sometimes leads to accidental injuries. Basic healing skills are part of the coursework and some of the first lessons we go through.
Ash’s pale lips quirk into a half smile.
His eyes dance with amusement. “Are you worried about me, Monster? It takes more than this to kill me.” I can see the clear pain in his features, even as he turns away from me and back to the white statue.
He’s wearing black trousers that skim his toned legs, and his bare feet leave bloodied footprints over the polished marble floors. Feet, not talons.
Perhaps he isn’t as injured as I thought.
“Is that statue spelled to protect your office? Because that seems a bit excessive if it hurts you as well...”
“She isn’t spelled by me.” There is clear annoyance in his tone, but I’m not sure whether it’s directed at me or someone else.
“Is she a lunargyre?” Her eyes are red. I shiver as I follow him when he kneels beside the beast. “But I thought they were bald and only went feral during the blood moon?”
“Not all lunargyres look the same, or hold the same patterns. Some snap back into a more coherent state during the day, even during the three days of the blood moon?—?”
“Like Alaris?”
He nods. “Alaris usually comes to his senses during the day, though nothing is guaranteed.”
“But there are others who remain feral?”
“Yes.” His hand shakes as he touches the white statue’s stone cheek. A careful, loving gesture. “You almost became breakfast for one of them the other day.”
Oh, I remember that too well. “What about her?”
“She’s been stuck in a slumbering state for weeks now, since days before the blood moon arrived.”
There’s so much sorrow in his inflection that I hold my breath and swallow my other questions. Was this beast a lover? A friend? A sister?
“Why did you leave your room?”
I could say I knew about twilight, and that I was determined to escape him. That I thought the halls would be safer somehow, now that the blood moon is gone. But instead, I remain quiet.
His gold eyes pin me down. He looks far too pale and so unlike the strong fae from before. “A week ago, you talked about saving the people you love back in that dumpy city of yours. How are you going to save your sister from me if you’re dead?”
The lunargyre blinks rapidly, her milky irises slowly transitioning from red to a bright rose gold. They shine with the same unnatural intensity as his. “Ash?” The voice coming from her lips is sweet, and it quakes with panic. “Did I—hurt you?”