DOTD Chapter 10- 11

Skinweavers attack, the stranger appears, Lucien's story unfolds

Chapter Ten


Pearl squealed, bucking me from the saddle. My body slammed into the mossy floor with a heavy thud. The creatures closed in, more colerless legs and arms swarming into view. Wild-eyed. Breath knocked from my lungs. I hysterically gasped for air, fumbling on all fours in the grass.

“ Silence it,” the larger one snapped to the rest, like their leader. I watched in horror as one of the ghostly beings swiftly dropped to the floor and sank its teeth into Pearl’s ankle, cracking the hoof and splintering the bone. She bellowed in pain as the other flanked to her side and dragged a long talon across her hide, slicing through the thick skin and muscle like water.

“ NO!” I screamed, my voice piercing the air with a cry. “ NO! STOP!”

The horde howled with a chilling laughter, their many voices one.

“Pretty coat, this one will be,” the leader said, bouncing its head from side to side like a curious hound. “ Finish it,” It hissed again.

A wracking sob broke free from my chest as I watched them slice her magnificent white fur into squares and peel the skin from her tendons, unable to look away from the nightmare unraveling in front of me. Body trembling uncontrollably with shock, I fumbled for my dagger, my eyes blurred with flashes of red and white. I seized the weapon, the cold metal hilt tightly squeezed in my palm.

Pearl’s whinnies had stopped. I flung my head round to witness the remnants of her throat dangling in the mouth of a third grotesque beast. Her heavy body swayed and then fell into the dirt with a mighty crash. Steam rose from her bloody corpse, wafting the smell of death into the muggy air. My chest vibrated with the wild beating of my heart, my breathing rapid and sharp as all eyes locked on me.

“ LUCIEN!” I half shrieked, half sobbed. “ LUCIEN!” I screamed again, my shrill voice echoing off the trees.

Their ringleader stalked closer, its feral grin growing wider. “You, heir of curses, have a greater purpose than becoming my next shrivencape,” it creaked at me, the distance between us growing smaller by the second. “ Although it is very tempting. Your fair skin is threaded with fate. I should like to try it on.”

I could smell the rotting flesh reeking off the patched cloak it wore, its thin, hollowed shoulders protruding out of the sides. It would be mine, it wore next, my skin wrapped around itself! I knew death would find me eventually, but not like this. I refused to be skinned bare and draped on the back of this vile, appalling demon until it took its next victim.

“ Get away from me!” I cried, positioning the dagger to strike, arms above my head.

It let out a twisted chuckle, amused by my desperation, feeding on the smell of my fear. It breathed it in, tattered chest rising and falling unhurriedly. An obsession, an insatiable, crazed need was fixed in its eyes, as if it had already ripped me limb from limb and torn off the desired patches to use to its satisfaction. I had no doubts, this hideous monster would relish in every tedious moment, every pleading scream.

“ You think a mere blade can do anything against m-”

The words were cut off as blinding silver flashed into my eyes, forcing me to turn away. Cold, oily liquid sprayed my face, pelting into my skin. I blinked open my eyes urgently, only to behold the creature’s head decapitated at my feet and Lucien’s strong blade covered in black, oozing blood.

His golden eyes shone brighter than the stars and moon combined as he hoisted me to my feet with his strong arm, my body crashing into him. He’d heard.

“ Run. Now,” his deep voice commanded over the commotion of raging howls growing behind him.
Cold, numbing shock froze me in place. Eyes wide, watching with terror. Feet glued to the floor. Legs leaden, dead weight. Lucien swung his mighty sword through the air with practised ease, his blade carving arcs of death through the monsters’ thick skins. It was a fatal dance of steel, claws, and blood, each deadly move woven into the very fragments of his being. He was the weapon, dodging and delivering powerful blows like he was kin to the wind. A predatory roar shook the ground beneath me, as Lucien sliced clean through one of the creature’s wrists, sending the black- smeared hand flying.

“ Fluer!” his muffled voice yelled, panic rising in his tone. Another shriek. A flash of monstrous talons slicing through the air. Everything was blurred.

This isn’t real.

“ Fluer, you need to move! Now!” he pleaded, his words finally piecing through the thick veil of shock. “ Get to the cabin!”

My spirit dropped back into my body, snapping my senses back into reality. My surroundings focused once more, nightmares coming back to life in front of me. My head whipped towards him. Fear flashed widely in his eyes as he beheld me, just standing there, desperately trying to keep the ravenous creatures back.

“Wha- What about you?” I screamed, my words shrill and panicked.

“ Just GO!” he roared.

I sprinted with all my might towards the cabin, forcing my legs to pump harder, faster—muscles burning, heart pounding like war drums, mud stirring beneath my feet as the shadows closed in behind me.

“ The door, the door is….” I could barely make out his words, wind thrashing fiercely against me, ears numb with raw dread. All I could hear was a shroud of ravenous screams and the sound of Lucien’s blade slicing through flesh again and again. I willed my limbs into overdrive, my back slick with sweat, till I reached the green stretch before the cabin.

Flying onto the porch, my hands went straight for the handle, yanking on the bolted metal. All my efforts got me nowhere. It was locked.

Great.

A fresh wave of fear washed over me at the realization, and I frantically went after the lock, hands shaky and trembling. It was useless, so I flew into the door, shoulders slamming harshly into the wood. It didn't budge. I tried again. Using all my might, I rammed myself once more against it. Still nothing.
Footsteps sounded behind me, and not the kind that would be carrying safety or the key to the cabin. I whirled around in fright, still clinging desperately to my dagger.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“ Thought you could get away, huh?” it said, its boney frame towering over me even below the steps. It hauled its long arms on the ground, limping towards me with injured effort.

It appeared Lucien had made his mark. A long gash trailed down the side of its ribs, obsidian fluid welling and dripping down the white leathery hide beneath. I recognized this one’s hideous face, the same beast who’d bitten Pearl’s throat out. Anger rose inside of me, fierce and determined, wrapping its hot hands around my fear and strangling the life out of it. I was going to kill that filthy, mutant scum. It would taste the metal maw of my blade down its wretched throat, until it sliced clean through the neck and sent its head rolling. My fingers twitched for a sword, sharper than death’s sweet kiss.

I needed to get to Lucien’s armory but the damn door was still barred shut. I scrambled to the window, still keeping an eye on the creature behind me. With every fleeting second, it was closing in on me, one wounded step at a time. The only way in would be to break the glass and shuffle in through the small opening.

“ Your death is inevitable, Sweet Meat,” it crooned from below, dragging its deadly talons along the railing. “Why fight it?”

Nerves shot, hands numb, I frenziedly searched for a stone, a brick, something weighty enough to shatter the glass. The dooming clicks of its long nails trailing along the wooden posts were getting closer. I started to panic, nothing but straw and rusty nails in sight.

“Look in the reflection of the glass,” the voice whispered in my ear.

I startled at the faint murmuring but obeyed nonetheless, turning my face back towards the window. An all-consuming, all-confirming, shocking sensation flooded my senses in a matter of milliseconds. When I peered through, my reflection was not my own. It was not my familiar raven hair or my light eyes that peered back at me. Not a face with my lips, nose, and jaw structure. No, the face that stared back at me was one I’d only seen once but had been branded into my memory. One I had spent weeks searching for, scrounging for answers without cease.
White frost peered into my soul, reading my every thought, every feeling, every secret I'd tried to bury in the dark.

It was him.

“Hello darling,” he said, his voice only audible in the chamber of my mind. “ I hoped we’d meet again.”

How?..... How did you?

My head spun violently with confusion as I stood there frozen, legs refusing to move as if they were bolted to the ground. He was here. I was staring right at him in complete disbelief, while the beast behind me slithered closer, now halfway up the steps. Daring to glance away from his reflection, I hastily pushed a wooden rocking chair in front of me and then a small table, creating a barricade around me to hopefuly slow it down.

“There’s no time for questions. There’s only one way in which the door will open,” he murmured, his ethereal face nodding towards the dagger coiled in a death grip in my right hand. “ You know what to do.”

My blood, the lock… How could I have been so stupid?
I only hoped it would break just as the lock to the cabinet did. It was risky, but it was my only shot. A blood-curdling screech came from the stairs, the foul creature cracking large holes in the deck, splintering wood underfoot with each labored step.

“ Your time is now,” he urged.

“I can’t get past it! It’s blocking the whole door—completely—and I have nothing! No weapon, no way to break through!” I cried, voice cracking. The dagger pressed into my palm like it knew something I didn’t, its weight unbearable with expectation.

“ Leave that to me,” he replied, offering me a fox’s sly grin.

Out of thin air, a dark fog formed and trickled onto the porch, heading towards the creature. The pitch plumes grew heavier and climbed higher, clouds of thick black vapor obscuring the monster’s path and impairing its vision.

“ What is this sorcery?” it shrieked, batting its long limbs in the air in an attempt to clear a path.

I watched in fearful awe, waiting for the opportune moment. The second the mist met its skin, a soul-piercing wail ripped free from its lungs. Gorging, puss-filled blisters formed on every inch of skin the thick moisture grazed. The creature shrieked and flayed, each movement causing the reaction to occur all over again.
“Now,” he said softly, his enchanting eyes finding mine, holding me close in his gaze. “It won’t hurt you, I promise.”
I gathered every ounce of courage in my body, sucking my resevoure bone dry and forced my feet towards the door. Fear of the unknown, of the raging hideous beast, of what all these things put together meant, nipped at the back of my heels as I charged for the lock. I came in contact with the murky haze, wincing as the cool moisture kissed my skin. Nothing happened….just like he’d promised.

I dropped to all fours, maneuvering around the creature with careful precision. The midnight fog continued to sear and burn its skin, ravenous screams clawing their way from its throat. A throat I would soon slice clean through.

“ I can smell you, you little rat!” it bellowed, voice guttural and raw. “ Cleaver trick, Treat, but no match for my keen senses!” Crazed aggression poured off each word, hot as the consuming flames burning in Hadies.

I steadied my breathing, crawling the last few grueling inches to the door and reaching a trembling hand for my dagger. Without hesitation, I dragged the small blade across my palm, inky blood welling along the incision. Teeth bared in pain, I shoved the bloody skin onto the cold metal handle, heavy magic pressure pulsing through my veins. The door gave way.

It worked!

I hurled myself inside, wasting no time, the rush of adrenaline fueling my steps. Sweat coated my brow, sticking to my entire body like syrupy glue, suffocating and hot.

“That was a grave mistake,” the beast snickered from outside, “ You smell ripe, Bleeder.” A low, vicious growl echoed through the door frame, and the dreadful sound of it breaking free from the holes in the porch had me flying towards the cabinet containing weapons. I flung open the doors, immediately spotting the sword I’d practiced with and hoisting the steel blade in my hands.

The fog had cleared, and in its wake, I beheld the pale demon before me once more, its cracked flesh now mutilated in festering, bloody blisters. Endless rows of black fangs glistened in the moonlight, a sinister smile peaking on each corner of its large mouth.

“ Hello, Welp,” It whispered, the slimy words carrying through the stuffy air inside the cabin walls.

When I stared back into its fever-bright eyes, I braced myself for fear to barrel down my limbs and freeze me into place, but all I felt was a molten wrath swelling inside me. It was a kind of lethal calm that wouldn’t hesitate to take, wouldn’t waste a single second. One that scorned mercy and only promised death, slow and merciless. Sword gripped in hand, a delicious, feral smile curled on my lips, eyes flashing with challenge.

“ Hello, Filth,” I purred.

The creature lunged at me, arms stretched, talons barred. An ear-splitting roar raked out in savage breath as it flew into the armory, splintering the wood into a million pieces. I ducked, rolling along the floorboards with swift, practiced movements.

Left, right, side-lunge, down…..

“That’s it? Pathetic. I’ve seen worms put up a better fight,” I taunted from across the room, raw power surging through my blood like heroin. I spat forcefully at its filthy, wet feet.

Shaking off remnants of splintered wood and loose bullets, it locked eyes with me, blazing with a heat that threatened to melt me to the bone. It stalked towards closer, breath rapid and broken, a coarse growl scratching its way from its throat. The low rumble continued, as it hissed out its next words.

“ Foolish girl. I’m going to scalp you and use that pretty little hair of yours to floss my fangs once I’m finished devouring your spleen,” It seethed, long tongue tracing the lines of its mouth.

Good. It was pissed.

“I’m hardly impressed,” I drawled, sarcasm dripping like acid from every word. “You’re less a nightmare and more a leeching pest—pathetic and barely worth my time.”

Plumes of hot breath shot from thin slits in it’s face, taking the bait with ease. At least the hideous thing was predictable.

“ Such pitiful last words,” It exhaled, each syllable like a curse. In a flash, the creature thrashed forward, mouth wide, teeth ready to sink themselves into my tender flesh and fulfill its sadistic vow.

I scrambled to my position, propping the point of the blade up in strategic placement. Its heavy shadow shrouded the small space where I crouched in wait, beckoning the darkness with it as it collapsed on top of me.

“ DEATH WILL COME TO YOU! DEATH-”

Its piercing screams were silenced in an instant, as the point of my sword shot clean through its throat, puncturing out the other side. I heaved in breaths, teeth gritted, the muscles in my arm straining with sharp pain against the impossible weight. The sword remained plunged deep into its trachea until I witnessed the light drain from its repulsive eyes and felt the last puff of warmth leave its lungs.

“ No, Scum,” I whispered, spit flying from my mouth and splattering onto its lifeless face,
“ Death will come to you.”

I released my sword in one rapid motion, flinging streams of black blood spraying across the room. It was done. I stepped back, heaving, my lungs rapidly rising and falling. I was trembling all over, hands shaking uncontrollably with shock as the adrenaline started to wear off.

I’d just…
I’d just killed it.

“I knew you could do it,” the stranger whispered once more. “ This is goodbye for now.”

“ Wait!” I called out, my voice echoing through the room, desperation bouncing off the confining walls. “ Don’t go!” But I could feel the emptiness inside me as his presence left.

A twisted knot clenched tightly around my innards as I beheld the bloody scene before me. The creature’s mangled neck oozed at a steady flow, black oil pooling beneath its limp body. The rancid smell of death filled the small cabin and coated the inside of my nose, eliciting a sharp nausea. I was going to be sick, violently sick. I braced both hands on my stomach and leaned over, bile rising from my gut and erupting onto the floor.

“ Holy shit,” I breathed, wiping my mouth with my trembling sleeve.
Stomach acid rose again and purged savagely from my mouth. A hot, frenzied tear welled in the corner of my eye and rolled down my cheek.

Lucien.
Where was Lucien?

I barreled out the front door, flying back into the night in desperate search of him, dragging the sword behind me. It was quiet, a stillness that had my heart threatening to escape my chest. Where the hell was he? Panic wrapped my entire body in its cold, blanketing grip.

“ LUCIEN!” I shrieked, running further into the thick woods. My head darted frantically from side to side, straining to see anything in the black. “LUCIEN, WHERE ARE YOU?”

No. No. No.

Fresh sobs tore through me, racking my body with desperate, uncontrollable shakes. My breaths came jagged and shallow, tears burning my skin as terror twisted deep in my gut. Through the dense shadow of the trees, a figure emerged, trudging along at a swift pace. My heart rate increased as I watched the shadow close in on me.

“ Not again,” I cried, my voice high and broken. “ No, no, not again,” I sobbed.
I gripped the sword tightly, hoisting it above my head in defense of my life, and swallowed hard. I struggled against the heavy weapon pulling me down, gravity yanking the steel blade to its level.

A familiar face emerged racing into the moonlight, and with it, eyes like twin lanterns burning gold in the dark.

Lucien.


A shattered cry of relief escaped my lips, and the sword fell from my hands, dropping at my side into the dirt. I took off sprinting towards him, pumping my legs forward with all I had left. Tears flew from my face and joined the winds whipping around me, blurring my eyesight. He was standing in the clearing, covered head to toe in smudgey black stains, an intense emotion I couldn’t read washing over his face, when he finally saw me.

I crashed into him, head thudding into his broad chest, sobbing relief cooling my hot skin. His strong, muscled arms wrapped around me, squeezing tightly like he would never let me go. I tucked my head underneath his chin, broken gasps choking out of my lungs.

“ You’re alive!” I croaked out. “ Oh god! You’re alive!”

He pulled me back, bracing my shoulders with both hands. He searched my face and then raked his eyes over my whole body, lifting my chin and turning over my arms.

“ Are you hurt?” he thundered. “ Are you alright?” His voice was raw, concerned.

The crying didn’t cease, the shuddering tears of ease streaming down and washing away the weight of fear. “I'm fine,” I breathed out. “I'm okay.”

He pulled me into his embrace again, holding on with a fierce, unyielding grip, as if he let go for even a second, I’d be torn away. His stance was solid, shielding, as though his body alone could keep the world from reaching me. We stayed that way for a long, uninterrupted moment. Two souls alone in the dark wood, clinging to a single silent moment of safety.


After a long, much-needed pause for relief and crying had calmed to quiet sniffles, I pulled away to look at him. Millions of unanswered questions twisted on the tip of my tongue, threatening to spill out at once in one jumbled mess of words.

“ What the hell were those things?” I asked, my breathing still ragged and uneven.

“ Skinweavers,” he replied, the heaviness of his words slamming into me like a brick.

My palm connected with his cheek, sharp and forceful. “ Where the HELL were you?! What took you so long? I could have died!”

Lucien stood there stunned, a red handprint creeping to the surface of his skin. He touched his fingers to his cheek gingerly and stared at his hand with outrage as he brought it back down.
“ Bitch!” he said, spitting into the grass. “Are you psychotic? I just saved your life!”

“ Barely!” I heaved, chest rising and falling rapidly with feelings of abandonment, “ A second longer and I would’ve been skinned!”

His face closed in close to mine, breath hot, golden eyes molten. When he spoke, his words were a low growl, full of animosity. “ I have you know, little girl, my timing is perfect,” he snapped. “YOU were late! I was waiting behind the cabin when one of those foul creatures crept up on me from behind. You might try a little gratitude, it’ll work that ugly strain out of your face.”

Oh...

My ears burned with wounded pride as his piercing eyes unwavered from mine. Of course, there had been a reason why he’d taken forever to get to me. He was right. The only reason I was still standing here was because of him, but pettiness had the words “ thank you” chained and shackled to my tongue.
“ Asshole,” I mumble under my breath.
He backed away, brushing off my feeble insults, the night air cooling my face and my temper.

My eyes darted around the forest. There had been six of them, seven including the one that attacked Lucien behind the cabin. I had only taken down one, and it hadn’t been easy. That meant he’d defeated six enormous, horridly vicuous beasts with his own two hands. Six!

Holy Hell.

“ We need to get inside,” he said, shaking off frustration and pressing a hand to the small of my back in the direction of the cabin. “ I counted seven of them, and I only killed six. It's still not safe out here.”

“ The seventh is dead,” I whispered to him in horrified remembrance. “ It came after me on the way to the cabin…I killed it.”

He stared at me in quiet disbelief, soaking in my words. And in that moment, despite the graphic horrors that had unfolded before us tonight and against his very nature…Lucien smiled.

“ I guess I was wrong,” he said quietly, amusement dancing across his lips.

“ About what?” I prompted, confusion threaded through my tone.

How could he possibly find anything funny at a time like this?
What the hell was wrong with him?

“ About you,” he huffed out, shaking his head down at his feet. “ I guess I can be surprised after all.”

My own smile caught contagiously on my lips, refusing to submit to the harsh environment surrounding us or the petty grudge raging against him inside of me. I had actually impressed him. A man who had been chisled from basalt himself and tempered by time and magic combined. Even with my throbbing pink handprint tattooed on his face….. I had made Lucien smile.















Chapter Eleven




We burned Pearl’s body.

Lucien was adamant her scent would draw more creatures towards the cabin. In some ways, it felt right to let her sweet spirit release into the smoke that curled high into the night sky to join the stars. Maybe it was stupid to wish for a proper burial for a horse, but in some ways, Pearl had been a friend when I had none. Her soft hide and warm body had been my sprawled-out pillow in the sunny meadows while I lost myself in the pages of a new book. Her thunderous hooves had been an escape from my hostile environment, giving me a sense of freedom, even if freedom was only a few miles from the manor grounds. It was considered unladylike for me to choose riding bareback on a Camarillo White instead of inside the lavish walls of a carriage, but that's made me love her all the more.

We stood side by side and watched her body burn to ash, her memory now free to join the soft wind in the trees, the hushed chirping of nightlife and dance amongst the pale moonlight, its color that of her own exquisite coat. I let a silent tear fall, my eyes lost in the flicker of the flame.

Goodbye, my sweet…

“ We should get inside,” Lucien murmured next to me.“ Morning will be approaching soon.”

“Just one more minute,” I whispered into the night air.

Rough, calloused fingers brushed ever so slightly against the back of my hand, his rough skin snagging softly at mine. My body tensed, surprise freezing my senses, my heart unsure what to make of it. The movement was brief, delicate enough that I wasn’t certain if it was an intentional touch or an accident. I didn’t move an inch. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

Choosing to dismiss it, I turned to him, my face worn with exhaustion and the weight of death. “ We can go now,” I said, confirming my final goodbye to another lost companion.

The walk back to the cabin was void of conversation, the sudden silence deafening after all the chaos. My steps were clumsy, occasionally tripping over a tree root or small stone in our path. We walked alongside one another in the stillness, neither one wanting to rehearse the horrors that played out before us tonight. I felt strange, my world off-kilter. I’d killed a skinweaver, spoken with the reflection of a man whose name I still did not know, and I’d burned the body of another consort to my heart.

“ Hell of a first day, huh?” Lucien chimed, his deep voice breaking into the silence.

At that and against all odds, a sleep-deprived, delirious smile met my lips, shaking my head at the sheer lunacy of tonight. He probably would have had me blindfolded, balancing that stupid sword again for hours, not bringing down a hellbound demon five times my size all on my own. I laughed softly under my breath at the thought.

“ Back to basics then?” I teased, “ Let me guess, next time we meet we’ll raid an entire coven of witches together…blindfolded?”

He huffed out a low laugh, the comforting sound vibrating through me. “Actually, I had planned on letting you take them down on your own, with my dagger, of course.”

A flush immediately rose to my cheeks.
Damn it, he knew!
Of course, he knew.

“ Oh yeah, don't think I didn't notice,” he continued. I could hear his smile growing as he spoke. “ Although I’m still trying to figure out how you broke into the cabinet. That lock was welded and forged to a custom design in the hands of a wardsmith I met overseas. And yet, the daughter of high society has bypassed its magical bonds and its loyalty to only me.”

Embarrassment rolled off me and was replaced by a fox’s playful grin. “ Well, you said it yourself, Hallowbane,” I drew out the name, mocking him. “ I have my secrets.”

“ I don't suppose I’ll be getting it back then,” he scoffed, as we scuffed up the damaged porch steps together.

I turned to face him, a smug expression irresistibly released across my face. “ Not a chance,” I replied, tossing him a small, arrogant wink.

He rolled his eyes as we crossed the threshold, filing in through the door one at a time to behold the royal mess of skin and black blood consuming the ground beneath us. Lucien struck a match and lit a few taper candles who’d managed to survive the fight.

“ Well, Slayer, you did a hell of a job,” he scolded, “ Next time, try not to redecorate my walls while you’re at it.”

I snorted at his sarcasm and the stupid pet name. “ Yes, well, I love what you’ve done with the place. The holes in the porch and the smashed shelves really give it character.”

He shoved my shoulder hard, effortlessly with one hand, making me trip and stumble into the small table to my left. My hip smacked into the hardwood, both hands flying out in front of me for balance.

Lucien roared as I made a fool of myself, tripping over my own long legs. I exhaled through my nose like a bull ready to charge, frustration and annoyance climbing to a peak.

“ What was that for?!” I protested, heat rising to my cheeks.

“ Pay back,” he stated, a satisfied pull tugging at the corners of his mouth.


I groaned in annoyance, rubbing my aching hip with the base of my palm in circular motions.

“ Go wash up you little shit, I’ll clean this mess up myself,” he said, shooing me down the hall to a small room. A sad-looking tin tub was station in its center.

“ You want me to get in that?” I said, pointing at the small, miserable object with disgust.

“ Unless you prefer smelling and looking like death, you don't have another option,” he replied, golden eyes raking over me with judgment. “ Soap’s up there,” he said, pointing to a rickety shelf on the far wall and closing the door behind him.

I stuck my tongue out at him as he clicked it shut, as if it would do anything to change my current situation. I was tough to be sure, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t accustomed to aristocratic living. In that moment, I wished with all my heart for my floral bubbles and fragrant luxury oils. I suppose there were benefits to simple living but Lucien was a damn cave man.

It felt wrong stripping down naked with a male just a wall away, but he was right, I did smell like death, maybe worse, and I desperately needed to scrub tonight’s horrors from my skin. I began to peel off the tarnished layers of linen, pulling my shirt over my head, the motion nagging at my sore muscles. I proceeded to do the same with my trousers, slowly stepping out of each pant leg with stiff, aching pain. The cool air kissed my bare skin, settling on the dimples of my lower back. Chill bumps surfaced across my forearms and trailed down my body, protesting the lack of layers.

Stripped bare, I moved toward the tub to run the water. My steps halted when I got a thorough look at it, rudely surprised by the lack of a faucet. I’d just assume, thanks to my upbringing, that every home possessed running water.

Where the hell does he get his bath water from then?

A sturdy knock sounded at the door.
Shit!

“ Just a second!” I yelled, scrambling for my clothes, for anything to cover me.

It was too late. The door swung open, and Lucien entered with a steaming kettle of hot water and a fresh stack of clothes.

“ I’ve got your wate-” his words were cut off the moment those golden eyes beheld my naked figure, raking over every rinch of me. Red bloomed up his neck and heated his cheeks, matching the color of the fierce smack I’d given him moments ago. His eyes darted to every corner of the room, but in front of him, where I stood…barely covered by the torn, filthy shirt I’d worn just moments ago.

“ Get out!” I hollered, clinging to the scrap for dear life.

“ I ah- I'm sorry,” he said, swiftly setting the kettle and clothes on the floor and flying for the door. “ Excuse me.”

The door clicked shut, leaving me alone, smothered in hot, sweaty embarrassment.
Oh my God.
Oh…my…God.

“ That did not just happen,” I whispered to myself, burying my face in my palms. Humiliation hit me with a blow, sharp, sudden, and burning. I wished in that moment with everything in me, I could crawl out of my own skin, fleeing from the clinging weight of what had just happened. I might as well have plastered a sign to my forehead that said “ Sorry! I’m only the idiot who doesn’t live in the real world.” How did I not put two and two together? Of course, he would be coming back in with water for the tub! And more importantly, how would I ever show my face again, knowing for the rest of my life a picture of my naked body would be burned into his memory?

I waited until I heard his footsteps disappear down the hall before I hesitantly dropped the piece of clothing and reached for the searing kettle and Lucien’s soap. The steam hissed into the tub like a whisper of fire meeting ice. Bracing my slender arms on either side, I eased myself into the water, shame still rolling off me like heavy raindrops. The hot water bit at first, but then relaxed into a comforting warmth as my body slowly submerged. Steam rose from the surface, curling like ghostly fingers, the sweet vapor coiling around my jaw and caressing the tendrils of hair surrounding my face.

I tried to let the water blur the striking image of Lucien’s pink face when he saw me, but I couldn’t shake the film of mortification still slick to my skin. I took it out on my body, scrubbing furiously at my limbs, hair, and underneath my nails, removing the ghastly stains of dirt and dried blood. The soap dispersed lingering scents of pine and warm woody notes as steam climbed higher, fogging up the room.

By the time my skin was raw and rubbed pink, the water had chilled. I stepped out of the tub, soaked to the bone. I wrung out my hair and drip-dried the best I could before slipping on another one of Lucien’s enormous shirts. The garment fell all the way to my knees, swallowing me into a worn, soft cotton. A faint musk still clung to the fabric, warm and masculine.

Completely clothed and stripped of my dignity, I opened the door and pittered barefoot down the hall to the living room. Lucien was sifting through the pile of rubble, his armory now was. He was stooped down, removing his weapons one by one from the wood-chipped debris. It looked like he’d dragged away the skinweaver's corpse based on the faint stain trailing toward the door and mopped up the remaining bodily fluids left behind. When he heard me, he stood to his full towering height and scratched the back of his head sheepishly, fingers tousling through his dusty blonde hair.

“ Your turn,” I said, avoiding eye contact entirely.

“ I, uh-ealier, I'm sorry,” he began, stumbling shamelessly over his words.

I interrupted him before he could utter another syllable about what happened. “ We don’t…. need… to talk about it,” I stated, heat rising to my cheeks with a fresh flush of embarrassment.

A confirmed grunt was all he gave me, as he set down the blade he’d finished dusting off. I took a seat on the animal-skin rug by the hearth, ignoring his presence. The crackling of the fire drowned the noise in my head and warmed the ends of my wet hair.

At least that was out of the way.
And I was hopeful we would never mention another word about it.

He stalked in the direction of the tub, heavy boots thudding on the floor. “ I’ll be back in a moment,” he said over his shoulder. “Oh, and don't worry about bringing me my water, I can fetch it myself.”

There was a hint of humor in his tone that had my cheeks burning wildly again. “ Wasn’t planning on it,” I shot back, my tone quick and sharp.

A low chuckle rumbled down the hall, disappearing with him.
“ Bastard,” I mumbled under my breath, chin resting on my knees.

I used the period of uninterrupted silence to rehearse my conversation with the stranger, playing back our supernatural interaction again and again in my mind. There was so much to unpack. Still, so much I didn’t understand, holes that refused to be filled by realistic rationalization. Our conversation had been the longest and most fleeting moment of my life, time seeming to lull and cease as we spoke. And that was just it, we didn’t even speak, it had been his voice in my head this whole time. His voice that warned me about Edwin, his voice that had alerted me to watch my back on my way to the cabin. Was it possible he’d been looking out for me this whole time? And if so, why? What tied him to me, to my ability, to everything?

Impossible questions swarmed my brain like hordes of moths to a flame. How was it possible for him to speak to me through my thoughts? Was he accessible all the time or only when he deemed it important? When would I hear from him next? He’d said for now…how long was for now?

The floorboards creaked from behind me, jarring me from my swirling thoughts. Lucien stood in the arch of the hall, drying his hair with a tattered dishrag.

“ Didn’t steal anything while I was gone, did you?” he said, walking over to where I sat and plopping down into his worn leather throne.

“ Only a couple of hand grenades to throw at you the next time you piss me off,” I spouted back, stretching my legs out so that my toes could catch the warmth of the flames.

A low rumble escaped his throat, lifting off his lips.“ I would expect nothing less from you,” he scoffed, eyes focused on buttoning his last button.

I watched him while he fiddled with the loose collar of his black shirt. Even without all the layers of leather armor, he still wore the same dark color and carried an air of guarded reserve with him. I watched as his fingers flipped the fabric down, my eyes trailing off onto his tanned neck, muscles twitching beneath the skin like coiled ropes. They dragged along his jaw next, studying the sandy stubble that grew along the defined edges and strong bone structure. Finally, they landed on his lips, usually pressed in a harsh, thin line, but now were soft and relaxed like his lounging posture.

His eyes crashed into mine, molten gold glowing softly in the dim light, seeing straight through every haughty comeback to the tangled mess of my soul and heart.

“ What is it?” he asked, noticing the way I studied him.

“ Nothing,” I replied, “I'm just trying to figure you out.”

“ What have you come up with so far?” he prompted, leaning back further into his chair and propping both arms behind his head.

“ Well for starters, you’re a complete ass, you send women to do your fighting for you, and are strangely attached to your armoire of weapons,” I began listing off, sarcasm threaded through my words.

He chuckled, twining a small piece of his hair at the base of his neck in circular motions.
“ Very good. What else?”

My tone shifted, carrying more of a seriousness to it as I recalled Lucien’s identifiable qualities. “ I know that you’ll defend something with your life….” I said, my voice trailing off.

He shifted in his seat, leaning forward and propping up his elbows on his lap. His eyes locked with mine once more, silent words exchanged across the crackle of the fire.

“ Truth be told,” I continued, “ I know very little about you.”

“ What do you wish to know?” he asked, his gaze still and unwavering.

“ How did you become a Hallowbane? Why choose this life?” I ventured, the mystery of his identity yanking on my curiosity without cease.

He cleared his throat, eyes breaking from mine and losing themselves in the flames.
“ I didn’t choose this. It chose me.” His words were heavy, laced with emotions I couldn't read.

“ Tell me,” I prompted, hopeful in this small, quiet moment, I would hear more about the man who’d saved my life twice now.

He raised a skeptical eyebrow, as if I was asking him to lasso the moon and stars down from the sky for me, hesitancy written across strong features.

“ Please,” I pleaded, “ It’s the least you can do after ambushing me in the washroom.”

“ Fine,” he relinquished, rolling his eyes at my blunt comment.

He began to unravel his story, the words tumbling out slowly at first, as if the vulnerability was a strain for him. “ A long time ago, I was forced to sell my soul… to Nymireal, the goddess of light…..”
Each of his words sank into me like stone, and I sifted through their meanings in silence.

“My mate…she was brutally taken from me by the Velmira, used as a sacrifice in one of their sadistic rituals.”

The foreign term met my ears, stirring my need for understanding.
“ Who are the Velmira?” I asked cautiously, angst coiling inside of me as the words left my mouth. I was asking him to describe the group who’d murdered his mate….

He looked at me with a raw and tangled pain, the amber light of his eyes dimming slightly.
“ Blood suckers,” he replied, the name dropping like heavy tungsten.

Holy shit. Vampires…..
Fear prickled down my spine as the thought settled in. I’d read about them, but again, never once thought the cold-skinned, blood-hungry beasts actually existed. I’d heard they were breathtaking, their perfect, ethereal features a seductive lure to draw in their prey. Eyes the color of a blood moon and skin as pale as bone, it was no wonder his mate had fallen into their trap.

Tucking my legs into the large shirt, I listened to him continue speaking, each new discovery of the darkness adding to the unease pressing constantly in the back of my mind.

“ Nymireal promised to bring her back to life if I swore my services to her to purge the lands of filth for the rest of my days as her Hallowbane…” he paused, thumb trailing against his chin, mindlessly lost in the painful memory. “ This seemed like a worthy cause at the time, and I was thirsty for vengeance, foolishly ravenous for a chance at revenge. What she failed to tell me was that when I took the living vow, my aging would cease…. I became a Timeless One, never aging a second longer, never gaining a wrinkle or growing a white hair. The rest of my days were suddenly infinite.”

My eyes widened with dumbfounded stun, my mouth gone bone dry, I stared at him in complete astonishment and awe.

Oh my god….
I recalled his words to my mind… “mostly human.”
Lucien was….he was…immortal.

The confirmation of what he said fell around me like fresh, sparkling snow, all at once and full of wonder. I was casually sitting across from a mystic being, not a man, not a human…a highly trained immortal hunter. Now that I knew, it all made sense: his abnormal height, miles of thick muscles, eyes that shone like the sun itself. He knew about the blood sigil, happened to possess spellbound locks, and took down six skinweavers on his own with ease. He must have had years upon years of training, fighting, and slaying foul creatures all in fulfillment of his vow. With Lucien’s abilities, I was now convinced there would be no other teacher more suited to train me.

“ What happened?” I asked eagerly, hoping this rare moment of vulnerability would last.

“ My mate….,” The words clawed out of his throat, scratchy and rough. “ She grew sick with age. I watched her grow older and more frail with each day…until she….” he trailed off, voice distant, his words lost somewhere else. “ There’s always a cost. The torture of watching her fade was mine.”

My heart grew achy as I listened intently, picturing the heavy weight of grief Lucien must’ve carried with him every second of every day and probably still did now. Imagining him as anything other than cold and secretive was difficult. She must’ve been special.

“I'm sorry,” I whispered, eyes searching for his. He would not meet my gaze. “What was her name?” I asked quietly.

His shoulders sagged slightly, as if the question itself slammed into him, weighing a million pounds. “ I think that’s enough questions for tonight,” he replied, his voice husky and low.

I didn’t push him. I knew what it was to lose someone, the pain, the guilt, the what-ifs. If he wished to keep her behind the high walls he resided in, I would respect it.

Lucien stood from his chair, looking down at me curled up next to the fire. “ You should get some rest.”

“ I can't stay here,” I replied, remembering the sting of Father’s ring biting into my cheek.

“Don't worry. I'll wake you,” he said simply and trudged towards the rubble mess of weapons and wood that still needed sorting through.

It was temping, if I was being honest, and a few hours of protected sleep could be the difference between smiling or snapping someone’s head off tomorrow.

God, there was such a mess waiting for me at home!

I still had yet to deal with Rune, his insufferable attitude, and his blinding ignorance. I smiled to myself. If he thought James was a problem, I couldn’t imagine how furious he would be about Lucien. The irony of his jealousy was practically laughable. I never once stalked him down and berated him for sleeping with any courtier, barmaid, or waitress he happily indulged in. I think a little competition would do him good. Besides, it was incredibly amusing to watch him flail over absolutely nothing. My only regret was that we were still committed to attending the masquerade ball together and scouring the Duke’s study for the ledger. More than anything now, finding the stranger’s identity was urgent, and as much as I resented the very air Rune breathed, I still needed help discovering it. I had toyed with the idea of asking Lucien about it, he was knowledgeable in the ways of the supernatural. But I still didn’t know what any of it meant. I didn’t know….What I was. Lucien hunted the darkness in the world…what if I was part of that darkness? No, Rune was my only option. Rune and that rutting masquerade.

Ah…the ball. I pictured the surprised look on Aurelia’s face when she saw a woman gliding into her party wearing white, a color only meant for her. I hadn’t even thought about Ly’s and picking up the masterful creation she’d most likely put together by now. These things just seemed so small now, so insignificant compared to what I’d endured in the past few days. My world had broadened from petty schemes and lace to monsters and the lore of an otherworldly presence. It was astonishing how much it had changed…how much I’d changed.

Vengeance and discovery were what fueled my steps now. The only thing keeping me from sliding down a slippery slope of bloodlust was the ever-expanding spellwoven world unfolding around me. There were parts of my heart that still clung to the wonder of magic and gazed in awe at its beauty. The parts that had lain my small head on Ewoyn's chest and listened to her warm voice weave tales of dancing pixies and kisses that promised a love greater than the heavens. I hoped those portions would bloom in the tears instead of drown.

A balmy weight settled over my brow, my eyelids heavy with exhaustion. The hearth was too warm, and sweet memories of Ewoyn had my mind drifting into a serene stillness. I nestled further into Lucien’s shirt and the tender nostalgia of childhood memories, soaking up the fleeting moments of safety. An amber haze fell, blurring my vision into a lulled rest, the words thank you, on the tip of my tongue as I slipped from consciousness.


( THERE IS A BREAK IN THE TEXT HERE)


Tenderly, I scooped her delicate body from the floor by the hearth, her thick lashes heavy with sleep. She didn’t stir, a peaceful blanket stretched across her beautiful features, strands of raven hair tangling gently across her face. She was nothing more than a feather in my arms, her slender legs dangling off to the side as I carried her out into the crisp night air.

Nightmaw was waiting, obedient to where I placed him. I mounted the saddle, gently laying her over my shoulders. To my surprise, her willowy arms instinctively wrapped around my neck, making me go stiff. I hesitated for a moment, tangled, confusing emotions beginning to rise within me. I quickly stuffed them down, locking them in the cage where they belonged. Ice filled my veins once more, and my face returned to stone as I secured my boots into the stirrups.

Flicking the reins, I settled into the familiar rhythm of thunderous hooves pounding into the earth below. We flew along the road, a fleeting shadow carrying an ivory bloom in the night. As time passed us by, she remained still, hands tangled around my neck in an unconscious, sleepy effort. Her small figure rested against me, the strange feeling of her chest rising and falling on mine a foreign entity for at least the last two hundred years. Why the gods chose me, I wasn’t sure.

When we arrived, pulling around the back of the grand house, I slipped down with careful ease, returning her to my arms.

“ Wake up, Slayer,” I said to her, easing her down onto her own two feet. “ We’re here.”

A sleep-heavy, annoyed scrunch formed on her nose, brows furrowed in disoriented frustration.
“ A true gentleman would’ve carried a lady up to her rooms,” she mumbled groggily

Even half asleep, she was still running that mouth.
“ Well, I'm no gentleman,” I replied, “ And you are certainly no lady.”

She smiled, fatigue still heavy on the corners of her mouth, eyes blinking half open.
“ Yes, well, that does present a problem.”

I shook my head. “ Will you get inside already?”

“ Fine,” she said forcefully, and turned on her wobbly heels. I watched as she staggered towards the servants' entrance in the long grass, still barefoot in my shirt. After I was sure she’d made it successfully through the door, I turned and mounted Nightmaw once more.

“ Psst.”

I turned my head back to find her waiting in the doorway.

“ Thank you,” she whispered.