8. Chapter 8
8
Chapter 8
Bronwen
With Adar back with the Legion, I could leave during the night without anyone knowing. Not that I was sure he’d have tried to stop me if he were here.
But now that I had seen him—August—and he’d seen my mother, knew my name, or at least the pet name my parents have always called me, I had to end this. End him. Before something worse happened.
Too bad it had been days since I saw him at Market. Days of restless searching and finding nothing. Physically, he remained absent, but every time I closed my eyes, there he was. His voice played tricks on me, his words filled with riddles that always left me utterly confused.
Every night before I attempted to sleep, I spent hours scouring the surrounding woods, hoping to find him. The night after Market, I returned to the place where he had marked me. Nothing. The next, I wandered toward town. Still nothing. Last night, I ventured farther than ever, ending up at a quiet pond under a canopy of stars. Still no sign of him. Just disappointment. He had bested me again, haunting my nights as I returned home, exhausted and defeated.
But tonight would be different. It had to be.
Every step felt heavier than the last, the weight of sleepless nights and constant failure pressing down on me. I hated him—his smugness, his power—but most of all, I hated the fear he had carved into me. I wasn’t going to let it win. Not tonight.
I waited until my parents were fast asleep, their breathing soft and steady through the walls of our home. After dressing in my leathers, I strapped a wooden stake to my thigh—one of the few Papa had trusted me with—and a small knife to my forearm. I avoided the sword. My brother would have demanded I carry it, but it felt too clumsy for this kind of hunt.
Finally, I tied my spelled cloak around my shoulders. The enchantment hummed faintly against my skin, a subtle reminder of the magic woven into its threads. It wasn’t as sturdy as Papa’s, but it carried my own touch. A regular cloak wouldn’t suffice; I learned that lesson quickly. A witch’s blood was potent, an irresistible lure for vampires. If I wanted to hunt, I had to mask my scent. The spell was born of necessity, a small act of defiance against my own vulnerability. The magic felt like a part of me now, born from desperation and determination alike.
Fortunately, my abilities with magic made the process easy. I hadn’t been taught the specific spells for cloaking, but it didn’t matter. A touch of stolen magic and the right intention, and the enchantment was mine.
I wanted to spell my cloak to hide my scent, so I did.
With the hood pulled snug over my head and my hair tucked away, I slipped out of the window and into the cool night air.
Tonight, I headed toward town again, though I stayed off the main path, weaving between trees until I found a small clearing with good cover. My heart pounded as I crouched low, knife in hand.
The plan was simple: bait him.
I pricked my finger with the knife, wincing as a bead of blood swelled and dripped onto the ground. I quickly tucked my hand beneath my cloak to hide the scent and moved several feet away before pressing my back against a large oak.
The minutes stretched long, the stillness of the forest sharpening every sound. My pulse thundered in my ears, but I held my breath, scanning the darkness for any sign of movement.
The night went on, leaving me disappointed and ready to accept another night of defeat, until the crunch of leaves shattered the silence.
I turned just in time to see August crouched over the spot where my blood had fallen. The moonlight turned his pale, icy blonde hair into a silver halo, a cruel contrast to the darkness in his crimson eyes. Just as I had expected, gone was the human man from Market and in his place was the vampire that had consumed my thoughts. He brushed his fingers against the ground before lifting them to his lips.
I pressed my back tighter against the tree, willing my breath to still, but my heart thundered louder with every passing second. He inhaled deeply, his chest rising as though he were savoring a long-forgotten memory. The silence of the forest seemed to press in around us, broken only by the low, guttural hum that escaped his throat—a sound that sent chills rippling down my spine .
His lips curled into a slow, satisfied smirk. “Oh, we’re playing games now, are we, Winnie?” His voice cut through the quiet, low and mocking, each word a taunt that seemed to echo in the stillness.
I fought to steady my breathing as his head snapped up, his movements precise and unnervingly sharp. His crimson eyes swept the clearing, unseeing yet searching. He tilted his head slightly, as if listening to the rhythm of the forest itself, and my pulse quickened further, betraying me.
The corner of his mouth twitched. “You may have masked your scent,” he said, his tone light and almost playful, “but you didn’t quiet the sound of your heart.
Before I could react, he was on me. His speed was inhuman, a blur of movement too quick to track. One moment, I was hidden in the shadows; the next, his iron grip pinned my wrists above my head with a precision that spoke of years spent honing his hunt. His other hand clamped over my mouth, silencing the scream that tore from my throat.
Without a free hand, he brought his mouth down, gripping the tie of my cloak between his teeth and pulling it loose. My cloak shifted and exposed my body to him.
The scent of my blood hit him like a storm, a tide that drowned every hint of composure. His head snapped back, his chest rising sharply as he inhaled. His red eyes burned brighter, flickering with a hunger so visceral it felt like the air around us thickened with his need.
Dark veins webbed under his eyes, then receded, only to return again, deeper and more pronounced.
Frantic. He was frantic. My blood was driving him mad.
He shuddered violently, every muscle in his body coiled like a predator holding itself back from a fatal strike .
When he finally stilled, his lips quirked into a dangerous smile. “A witch without her mouth is like a carriage without its horse,” he whispered, his voice a low, mocking purr against my ear. His breath was cool, sending a shiver down my spine. “Useless.”
I squirmed against his hold, but his grip only tightened, his strength unyielding.
I let out a scream, but it was muffled by his hand. If he squeezed any harder, he would snap my wrists.
“And you without your hands?” His voice dropped into a dark, feral growl as he dragged his nose along my neck, savoring every tremble that coursed through me. His breath was hot and unnervingly steady. “Defenseless.”
His teeth scraped against my skin, and I thrashed harder. Desperation gave me clarity. My mind raced as I adjusted my stance, aiming with precision. I slammed my knee upward with every ounce of force I could muster, targeting the vulnerable spot I knew would cripple him, at least for a moment.
His growl transformed into a strangled gasp. His body folded as he crumpled to the ground, his hands instinctively clutching the point of impact. The brief sound of pain he made was both satisfying and chilling.
I lunged for him, ready to grab his magic, my movements fueled by the adrenaline surging through me. But just as my hands grabbed his shoulders, Papa’s warnings echoed in my mind.
I’ve had visions of you covered in darkness, Winnie. And you’ll take your brother with you.
For the briefest moment, I hesitated.
And that was all he needed.
With a flash of movement, August vanished into the shadows, leaving me breathless, shaken, and alone. My hands trembled as I pressed them against the rough bark of the tree, my mind racing to steady itself against the chaos he left behind.
I wanted to collapse, to let the fear finally overwhelm me, but I couldn’t. Not now. Not when he was still out there. Each shaky breath I drew only strengthened my resolve. He was faster, stronger, more calculated than I had imagined, but he wasn’t invincible.
This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.
I straightened, the cool night air chilling the sweat on my skin. The hunt would continue, and next time, I wouldn’t let him escape. Fear still lingered in my chest, but it was a fire now, feeding the determination that coursed through me.
I would find him again. And next time, I would end it.