19. Broken Wings – Elias
Broken Wings
ELIAS
A white-hot spike of pain shot through my skull as I jolted awake.
My stomach lurched as I turned wildly, searching for any sign of her.
But the space where she had slept was empty.
No warmth. No movement. Only the shredded remains of her bedroll, torn to ribbons like the aftermath of a predator's feast.
A ragged cry ripped from my throat, raw with fear. My wings flared even as agony ignited, feathers bristling as my talons scraped desperately against the damp moss. My wing wasn’t broken as I’d thought, but sharp pain throbbed along the fine bones as I bent it.
I pushed through the pain, forcing myself to ignore it. The werewolves had taken her, and I hadn't been strong enough to do a damn thing about it.
I ripped through the hanging vines, bursting from the cave into the cold embrace of the night. The sting of my twisted wing was immediate and vicious, but I shoved the pain aside. Rosemary. I had to find her.
The damp, cold earth bore the deep imprints of heavy paws, a path carved by the creatures that had stolen her away.
With a furious beat of my wings, I launched higher into the air, my body screaming in protest. Every movement sent bolts of pain lacing through my bones, but I gritted my beak and forced myself forward, gliding low, tracking their path.
Then I saw them. Snapped branches littered the ground, a violent trail of her struggle. And there, dark droplets glistening against the dead leaves. Blood.
I forced my battered wings to carry me faster.
The winding trail pulled me deeper into the forest, where the trees stood like silent sentinels.
The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and crushed lavender, but none of it soothed me.
Not when every instinct in my body screamed that I was running out of time.
Then, I saw them.
Four massive wolves, their fur rippling like shadows under the silver moon, circled a still figure on the ground. Their eyes burned a hungry, feral yellow, gleaming like candlelight through stormy glass.
And there, Rosemary.
She lay motionless, her strawberry blond hair spilling like ink over the earth, her pale dress stark against the night-stained ground.
Something in me snapped.
Rage surged like wildfire, burning away the last of my hesitation. My talons clenched, my wings flaring wide as a shrill cry ripped from my throat, echoing through the trees like a war cry.
The wolves' heads snapped toward me. The wolves watched me, their snarls curling through the cool morning air, but before I could reach them, the whistling snap of bowstrings cut through the quiet.
Arrows.
One tore past my head, so close I felt the wind of its passing. Another struck my already mangled wing, and pain exploded through me, white-hot and searing. My vision blurred, my balance wavered, and I tumbled through the sky like a withered leaf caught in a storm.
But then, a flicker of gold.
The first rays of dawn stretched timid fingers over the horizon, painting the treetops in hues of pale amber and dusky rose. Usually, the light had to fully claim the sky before I could shift, but I wouldn't wait.
I twisted my body, forcing myself into a steep descent, plunging into the tangled embrace of the trees. The moment my claws scraped against the mossy earth, I reached inward, grasping, pulling, wrenching the change from within.
My bones cracked and splintered, the shift brutal and raw. Feathers tore away as my limbs stretched, talons lengthening into fingers caked in damp earth. My spine arched, twisting, until I was no longer something winged and weightless but something whole. Something fae.
Gasping, I crouched behind a thicket of wild brambles. The wolves wouldn't see me coming. Not this time.
My fingers ghosted over the broad, waxy leaves of the bush, my magic weaving through their veins, coaxing them to surrender their form to me.
Their essence shivered beneath my touch, twisting, melding, until soft fabric wrapped around my skin, trousers spun from the forest's embrace.
As I took from the earth, my veins darkened beneath my skin.
To take from the earth without giving in return cost a steep price, but that was the unseelie way, and for her, I would do anything.
My sharpened gaze cut through the thicket, locking onto the clearing where the wolves had gathered. Where they held her.
Rosemary lay motionless at their feet, her brassy blond hair fanned over the crushed grass. Four wolves prowled around her, their hulking forms shifting with restless energy, their eyes sweeping the trees and sky in search of me.
I raised my fingers, tracing delicate patterns in the cool night air, calling on my illusion. The scent of damp earth and morning mist curled around me, masking my presence, dissolving me into the undergrowth.
Then, I saw him. The alpha in human form.
A lone figure among the wolves. Broad-shouldered, bare-chested, his skin marked by the sharp lines of a claw tattoo.
He didn't search the sky like the others.
His gaze remained on her, on the fragile weight of Rosemary's unconscious form at his feet as he tucked something back into his pocket.
He bent without a word, lifting Rosemary's limp form as if she weighed nothing. Her hair tumbled over his bare shoulder, a golden river against his skin, and a deep growl rumbled in his chest as he adjusted her, settling her like a prize.
I followed.
A patch of wildflowers brushed against my fingertips, their petals trembling as I passed.
I let my magic reach for them, coaxing their essence into something more.
The softness of petals hardened, their delicate stems twisting into something stronger, weaving together until a scabbard formed against my hip, strapped tight around my waist.
A gnarled root jutted from the earth at my feet, twisted with age, rough with time. I stooped, curling my fingers around it.
My magic sank deep, whispering to the wood. Twist, sharpen, become.
The root pulsed in my grip, reshaping itself beneath my touch. The coarse bark peeled away, its hardened veins bending to my will until it gleamed, not as wood, but as bronze. A blade, born from the bones of the earth itself.
I held the blade up before me, studying the blackness of my irises in its reflection as the darkness in my veins consumed even more of me. Narrowing my gaze, I dropped the blade, turning my attention instead on the wolves ahead.
The lead wolf halted at the cliff's edge, where jagged rock gave way to the gaping maw of a narrow cave. One by one, his pack slipped inside, their hulking forms vanishing like phantoms into the abyss.
I watched, heart hammering against my ribs, as the last of them disappeared. Until only him.
He turned, blocking the path. Blocking her.
Rosemary was somewhere in that darkness, and this beast was the barrier between us.
A slow, seething heat unraveled in my chest, my grip tightening around the bronze blade still warm from the touch of my magic. I could end this creature, tear into him with the full, merciless force of my unseelie nature. But if I did, the queen would feel it. She would know.
My fingers twitched, the smallest motion, and the air around me shifted. A hush spread outward, swallowing sound, weaving a cocoon of silence around my form.
The wolf didn't hear me move.
Didn't see the way I gathered every ounce of strength.
Didn't sense the moment I lunged.
Until it was too late.
He snarled, a savage sound ripping through the air, and in a blur of motion, he reared back onto his hind legs.
My blade swung wide, cutting through the space where his head had been just a moment before, the arc of bronze missing by inches.
But before I could adjust, his form twisted.
A violent shift, bones snapping and reshaping within a single blink of my eyes, as he dropped to the earth, now towering over me on two legs.
In his hand, an axe gleamed, as though it had always belonged there.
How had he moved so fast? How had I lost my advantage so quickly?
We clashed beneath the pale light of dawn. His axe met my blade with a violent clang, sending sparks flying, bright as fireflies in the thick, cold air.
His grip was unyielding. One hand locked tight on the axe, parrying my every strike, while the other shifted. His fingers elongated into claws, sharp as shards of obsidian, slashing at me with the ferocity of a beast in the throes of rage.
I recoiled, my heart hammering as his claws raked across my sword arm, the force so powerful it almost made me lose my grip on the blade. Blood welled from the gash, slick and warm, dripping down my arm in rivulets, painting the earth beneath me.
The pain was white-hot, but I couldn't stop. I swung desperately, every movement frantic as I put distance between us, the fight becoming a blur of metal and fury.
"I just want the female back," I snarled, the words leaving my mouth like a promise of blood. The blade between us gleamed, my stance firm, every muscle coiled.
The man chuckled darkly, his nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air around me, his teeth flashing in the dim light. "Not yours."
A chill slithered down my spine, but I didn't flinch.
I dipped my chin, locking my gaze onto his with a seething fury that matched his own.
"She is mine." My voice was cold, flat, cutting through the tension between us.
I lifted my sword, the tip aimed straight at his chest. "And for touching what is mine, you will die. "
Every time my blade met the gleaming edge of his axe, a shockwave rippled through my muscles, reverberating deep into my bones. Without my magic, I was barely more than a mortal warrior.
The bite of steel cut across my side, a searing line of pain that tore through my defenses.
I barely twisted enough to avoid the worst of it, but his axe found its mark, the jagged edge slicing into me with brutal force.
The wound tore a ragged gasp from my lips as I stumbled back, my legs wobbling beneath me.
A scream, raw and desperate, ripped from my throat, the frustration and helplessness crashing over me in a wave. I wanted him dead. I needed him dead. He had to be dead.
I sidestepped, forcing my movements to betray the exhaustion clawing at my limbs.
Feigning right, I pivoted, swinging left with every ounce of strength I had left.
The impact was quick, a flash of bronze across his broad shoulder.
He roared in pain, and before he could recover, I twisted, using the momentum to disarm him.
His axe flew from his grip, clattering to the ground as he staggered back, his expression a mix of disbelief and rage.
This was my moment.
A vicious grin curled at the corners of my lips, a predator's grin, and my eyes burned with the cold fury of someone who knew no mercy. "Where. Is. She?"
His teeth ground together, the amber fire of his gaze burning into mine as the tip of my bronze blade pressed into the bare skin of his chest, a threat sharp and undeniable.
"An unseelie fighting for a seelie. How strange our world has become.
" His voice, low and strained, dripped with disdain. "But no matter. She belongs to us now."
The blade inched upward, its edge gliding up the curve of his throat, the pressure building until I could feel the faintest tremor in his skin.
My gaze never wavered from his, each word soaked in venom.
"If she's harmed, I'll make your death slow, agonizingly painful.
Mark my words." My voice dropped to a harsh whisper.
"You'll beg for death, but I'll make sure it never comes quickly.
You'll suffer in ways you can't even imagine. "
His eyes, hard and defiant, never flinched from mine as he spat at my feet. "Fucking unseelie trash. You never know when to quit, do you?"
But then, in a movement so quick, so deliberate, his gaze slid from mine, flickering over my shoulder, an almost imperceptible shift in his focus. My heart skipped a beat, a cold rush of fear washing over me as something hard slammed into the back of my skull.
Darkness spiraled in, swallowing everything whole, until all that was left was the deafening silence of my fading consciousness.