21. Chapter 21
21
Chapter 21
Bronwen
My breath caught in my throat, and for a moment, I couldn’t move. The sight of them—bloodied, bound, and kneeling—sent a wave of unease rippling through me. My eyes darted over the soldiers, taking in their injuries: the gash across one man’s temple, the bruises blooming along another’s jaw, the way their shoulders sagged under the weight of defeat. The emblem on their cloaks gleamed faintly in the moonlight, a stark reminder of who they were and the danger their presence brought.
I forced myself to take another step, the damp earth cold beneath my boots. “What is this, August?” I asked. My fingers curled into fists, tension knotting in my stomach.
August crossed one leg over the other and leaned against a sword—a sword I hadn’t noticed him holding before. “Two options here, Winnie. You kill them, or you let them go.”
“What?”
“You said you’d never killed before. I want to watch you do it for the first time.” His eyes gleamed with a manic light, his grin stretching wider than it should have. He shifted his weight forward, almost bouncing on his heels like an excited child waiting for a show to start.
“I am not killing them.” I walked to them and pulled the blade from my arm.
“Oh Winnie, I didn’t know you had a heart.”
“I am not a cold-blooded killer like you.” Without a second thought, I ripped through the ropes and freed the first man. He didn’t move. Didn’t react to me freeing him.
“Three bound for Winnie to choose,” August began, his grin widening like a madman savoring a private joke. “One free. Two bound. A game of balance, isn’t it, Winnie? Every choice tips the scale. I wonder . . . can you keep it steady?”
I ignored him as I moved to the second soldier.
“Two freed. One bound.”
“Do you ever stop talking?” I shot a glance at him, my patience already worn thin.
He tilted his head, feigning innocence. “What? I’m merely admiring your technique. It’s almost like . . . you enjoy it.” His tone dipped into something darker, something taunting. “Doesn’t it feel good, Winnie? To hold their lives in your hands?”
“Stop calling me that,” I said through gritted teeth.
“But it suits you,” he said with a soft chuckle. “Winnie. It’s endearing, really. Don’t you like it?”
I shook my head, the anger at a tipping point as my knife ripped through the ropes that held together the last man’s wrists.
“Three freed. But Winnie may still lose,” August whispered.
The men stood in unison and rubbed their wrists, looking around like confused animals.
They now knew August was a vampire. If they saw him during the day, what would they do? And me? What did they think I was? One looked oddly familiar, but I couldn’t place it exactly. If I recognized him, did he know me? Did he know my name?
I shook the thought away. August would not risk himself. He would handle it. And whatever he did with them, well, that wasn’t my concern.
It wouldn’t be on me.
The men paced around in complete delirium.
“One last thing, gentlemen.” The men stopped and stared at August. “She’s a witch.”
I turned and glared at him. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Woah, Winnie, I didn’t know you had such a dirty mouth.” August’s face lit up in fascination.
The men, as if blind to the fact that a vampire was only a few feet away, drew their swords and pointed them at me.
“So you want to watch them kill me? I would’ve expected you to do it yourself.” I took a step back, glancing between August and the Legion soldiers that seemed to stare straight through me.
He shrugged his shoulders. “You’re a witch. Use your magic to kill them. Unless . . .” August let out an exaggerated gasp, covering his mouth. “You can’t do that.”
I glanced back at the soldiers who were inching their way closer. “August.”
“ Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, Winnie .” The words came quick.
“I can’t,” I said through gritted teeth.
A sinister smile grew on his lips. “Can’t what? ”
“I can’t practice unless I have a source.” The words tasted bitter on my tongue, like a confession I never wanted to make. Admitting it to August felt like a defeat, a crack in the armor I had carefully built around myself. My magic had always been my power, my secret edge, and now, laid bare before him, it felt like a vulnerability he could exploit. The hollow ache of not being able to access that power without a source gnawed at me, a reminder of how dependent I was—and now he knew it.
August let out a satisfied moan at my confession as if he had known all along. “Here. You might need this then.” He tossed me the sword he had used to prop himself up, causing me to drop my satchel and the journal to fall out. His eyes widened when he saw the journal lying in the dirt.
I swore at him under my breath as I pulled the strings on my cloak to allow it to fall on the ground. I turned my attention back to the three men in front of me . They were significantly larger than me, each with muscles in their arms that were larger than my thigh. It would be a useless fight if they all came for me at once. I would have to be swift, and even then, my chances were slim.
“We had a deal.” I glanced at August as I stepped back again, only for the step to be matched by the men.
“The deal was that we didn’t kill each other until we found Carrow. Nothing was said about others killing you.”
“Fuck you, August.”
“Winnie. What would Odelia think if she knew her precious daughter just asked to fuck me?”
Before I could respond, the first man advanced, as the other two stood frozen in place. Their eyes seemed to be glazed over like they were waiting for a signal to take them out of the state they were in.
The soldier swung his sword low, but I met it with mine. The sound of metal clinking together filled the air, sharp and jarring. Our swords met each time, and I strained to match the force that was given to me. My arms ached from the weight of his strikes, and my breaths came short and quick. I wouldn’t last long playing defense.
Thank the gods Adar taught me the Legion’s techniques. I knew how to spar with them. But I had one thing on them.
They didn’t know my techniques.
I feigned a swing high, my eyes intentionally marking a spot, before slicing much lower, straight through his stomach. His grunt of pain was drowned by the sound of steel against flesh. He fell, but I didn’t give him a moment to recover. I pierced his chest before he hit the ground. Blood sprayed over me, warm and metallic, the sharp scent filling my nose. My hands trembled as I pulled the sword out, my mind screaming at me to process what I’d just done.
The first human I had ever killed.
But there was no time.
The second soldier lunged, his sword slashing down toward me. I ducked and rolled to the side, reaching for the fallen man’s sword to even the odds. My fingers closed around the hilt just as the second soldier’s blade crashed down where I had been a moment ago. The ground shook beneath the force of his strike.
I sprang up, gripping the second sword tightly. He swung again, but I parried with one sword while driving the other into his leg. His scream echoed through the clearing, raw and guttural. He stumbled back, his leg buckling as he reached for the blade embedded in his flesh. I didn’t wait. Lunging forward, I drove my sword into his chest, the force of the blow knocking him off balance. He crumpled, blood pooling beneath him.
My breath came in ragged gasps as I turned to the last soldier.
The man I thought I recognized hesitated, his sword trembling in his hands. His eyes darted between the bodies of his comrades and my own blood-streaked form. Fear radiated from him, and for a moment, I thought he might flee. But then he lunged, his swing wild and untrained. I sidestepped easily, using his momentum to disarm him. The clang of his sword hitting the ground echoed like a death knell.
I pressed my blade to his throat, the sharp edge biting into his skin.
“Please,” he whispered, his voice trembling.
My hands shook as I hesitated, my breath coming in shallow gasps.
August’s voice cut through the moment, low and menacing. “Finish it, Winnie.”
My mind raced, the weight of the blood already on my hands pressing against my chest. My fingers tightened on the hilt, but I couldn’t bring myself to push the blade forward.
August stepped closer, his presence a suffocating shadow. “If you can’t do it, I’ll gladly help,” he whispered in my ear, his voice dripping with mockery.
Before I could respond, August moved swiftly, stepping behind the soldier like a predator savoring its prey. “I’d hate for all of this blood to go to waste,” he murmured, his voice low and almost reverent. His hand gripped the man’s shoulder with deceptive gentleness, tilting his head to expose the vulnerable curve of his neck .
My breath caught as August’s mouth brushed against the man’s skin. The soldier’s trembling form froze, his wide, terrified eyes locked on mine. I couldn’t look away, even as August’s fangs pierced flesh, the sound a sickening yet intimate whisper that seemed to echo in the clearing.
The soldier’s body jerked, a choked gasp escaping his lips, but August held him firmly, his fingers flexing like he was savoring every moment. My stomach churned at the wet, visceral sound of feeding, yet a part of me—one I couldn’t name—was transfixed. It was grotesque and hypnotic, the way his muscles tensed and his eyes fluttered closed, as if the act brought him something more than sustenance.
His gaze flicked to mine, crimson streaks smudging his lips. He didn’t speak, but the challenge was clear: watch. I should have looked away, should have turned my back on the horror unfolding before me, but I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
August exhaled sharply as he pulled back, his chest slowly rising and falling. His lips glistened with blood, and his tongue darted out to catch a stray drop, the motion so deliberate it made my breath hitch. The man in his grasp sagged, his skin pale, his eyes glassy as the last shreds of life left him.
August let the body drop unceremoniously to the ground and straightened, the dark amusement in his expression giving way to something I couldn’t quite place. His eyes flicked to my neck, lingering just long enough to make me feel exposed. My heart raced as his gaze returned to mine, sharp and knowing.
For a moment, the clearing felt smaller, the air thicker. I wanted to move, to run, to do something, but my legs were heavy, rooted to the ground beneath me. If he chose to attack, I wasn’t sure I’d stop him .
But he didn’t.
He let out a quiet, satisfied sigh, his lips curling into a faint smile as he turned and disappeared into the shadows.
The clearing was silent, the moonlight casting an eerie glow over the blood-soaked ground. I fell to my knees, my hands trembling as I stared at the bodies around me. My chest tightened, the enormity of what I’d done crashing down on me.
And yet, beneath the horror and exhaustion, a small, shameful part of me reveled in the chaos. In the power.
In the sight of August feeding.
I sat there for what felt like hours, the moonlight illuminating the crimson streaks on my skin. Finally, I forced myself to stand, my legs unsteady beneath me. I went to grab my cloak and satchel, only to find the journal gone.
Panic surged through me as I frantically searched the ground around me. My satchel lay open, its contents scattered, but the journal was nowhere to be found. I froze, my mind racing. My stomach churned as realization dawned.
“August,” I hissed, my voice low but filled with venom. Of course, he had taken it. I should have known the moment his gaze lingered on it earlier. That smug, infuriating bastard. My hands clenched into fists as anger coursed through me.
The cold night air bit at my skin, but it did little to cool the heat rising in my chest. I stumbled back toward the woods, my thoughts swirling with frustration and determination. The clearing and its ghosts faded behind me, but one thought remained clear: I would get that journal back, no matter what it took.