Chapter 36 #2
I fought back a sob, my entire body trembling with grief as voices drifted toward me through the trees, two males arguing in low tones. The scent of charred wood mingled with pine needles and sweat. I forced my head up and took in the totality of my surroundings.
I was in a clearing ringed with sharpened stakes and makeshift tents made of patchwork hides and tattered canvas.
Torches sputtered in iron sconces driven into tree trunks.
There were maybe half a dozen soldiers, all masked or hooded and dressed just like the ones who’d attacked our envoy.
They moved in and out of the firelight, some sharpening blades, others eating aged meat and stale bread.
A bootstep crunched behind me.
I dropped my head, feigning unconsciousness as someone approached, knelt, and checked my bindings. Their breath hitched when they swept my gown away, exposing my legs, checking what appeared to be makeshift bandages that I doubted had done anything to help my wounds.
“That’s strange,” the voice whispered. “Both her legs were snapped. How is she almost healed?”
“It’s not our job to ask questions,” another barked. “She’s the Frost Prince’s pet. The Iron Crow simply wants her alive. He doesn’t care what condition she’s in.”
Iron Crow?
Shit.
I clenched my jaw so hard that my teeth ached.
Seemed my enhanced healing hadn’t been a one-off situation.
My legs still hurt, but the pain was…different now.
Duller. No longer the raw, searing agony of shattered limbs.
I shifted slightly and felt the unnatural stiffness of bone knitting itself back together, muscle fibers stretching, regenerating.
I couldn’t move to look at my injuries without alerting them that I was awake, but I didn’t need to see to know there were no jagged protrusions, no blood pooling beneath me.
What in Náldrún’s name was happening to me?
I lay still, forcing my pulse to slow. My senses felt strangely heightened, picking up the subtle sound of a shifting blade, the faint snap of twigs, the rustle of canvas as someone stepped out.
“She’s more trouble than she’s worth,” a voice muttered from beyond the tree line. “I say we gut her and be done with it.”
“You’d defy the Iron Crow’s orders?” another spat.
“I don’t give a piss about orders. That illegitimate prince murdered my brother in that alley. You think fifty lashes was justice for an innocent boy turned to ice?”
A murmur passed through the small camp.
“That’s right,” the boy’s brother growled. “You all stood by, applauding while they paraded the prince through the square like he was a martyr. But what about us? What about our dead? Did anyone honor them? Did the queen really offer us any retribution for the atrocities committed by her son?”
Someone muttered, “He’s right. If we want to hurt the prince, hurting her is our best weapon against him. Everyone knows he worships the ground that bitch walks on.”
A twisted laugh erupted from the boy’s brother. “I’m not just going to hurt her. I’m going to take my time. Break her. Use her. Then I’ll gut her and string her from a tree like game meat. Leave her for him to find.”
Voices rose, snarling in agreement, some gleeful, others drunk on rage and years of buried pain.
“She dies tonight.”
“No one will question it.”
“The Iron Crow doesn’t need to know. We’ll say she didn’t survive the raid—”
“That pampered courtier,” a new voice uttered, piping up from a man crouched near the fire, “provides the coin that funds our rebellion. Without him, we wouldn’t have the weapons or means to strike back at the crown.
So do yourselves a favor and leave the captain alone.
Save that rage for when we raid the capital.
I’m sure the Iron Crow will see to it that she’s used to our advantage. ”
Oh gods. The Iron Crow and leader of the rebellion was someone in the queen’s court?
My body tensed, a gasp escaping before I could swallow it down.
Every head turned toward me.
“Fuck, she’s awake,” one hissed.
Rough hands grabbed me and hauled me upright. My body screamed in protest. The half-healed ache in my legs throbbed, but I forced myself not to cry out.
They dragged me toward the center of the camp, near the roaring campfire. Smoke and ash burned my nose. My knees scraped against ice-crusted dirt as they shoved me to the ground.
“What do we do with her now?” someone sneered, circling me like a predator. “She might’ve heard too much.”
“She’s a spoil of war,” another said, voice trembling with excitement. “I say we have ourselves a little bit of fun.”
The male who’d tried to warn them about killing me stood and dusted his hands on his trousers.
“I’m not going to stay around for this. You want to dig your own graves, by all means.
But I’m not having any part of it. I’m going for a drag.
Try not to make her scream too much; there are things that lurk in this forest you don’t want to wake.
” He disappeared into the shadows without even a glance back.
My chest caved. He’d been my last chance of hope.
Before I could take my next breath, a hand yanked my head back by the hair. Two males gripped my ankles, pinning me flat on the ground. A fourth one tore at my gown.
I bucked and kicked, thrashing, but it was useless. I tried to scream, but every sound I made was muffled by the gag still wrapped around my mouth.
My heart pounded, terror surging through me like a raging river.
But that terror turned into fury. They didn’t have to do this. There was no need to punish my body other than because they wanted to. Four against one. I didn’t even have use of my hands. Fucking cowards.
My nails dug into the earth beneath me, tearing through it like claws.
My gums ached. My jaw throbbed. I bit down so hard I tasted blood.
And that’s when something inside me snapped, a roaring pain that tore from within my core. A violent surge, primal and dark, rushing through my blood like wildfire in dry brush. My body arched as if something ancient and monstrous that had been caged inside my bones had just shattered free.
My vision was suddenly bathed in shades of crimson.
I snarled as I yanked on my bindings, the ropes around my wrists disintegrating to threads, my muscles expanding faster than I could comprehend. Bones cracked, warping into something that didn’t belong to the person I’d been moments before.
Startled, the males stumbled away from me. The one who’d been planning to defile me stuffed his tiny cock back into his trousers, eyes growing wide, lips trembling.
I rose to my feet, a creature reborn from blood and war. The corners of my lips twitched, and I tore off the cloth they’d bound around my mouth.
Him.
The word was a whisper, a command into the mind of the beast that had crawled out of me.
He would be our first kill, I told it.
My fingers extended into claws, curved and black and hungry for vengeance.
My legs steadied beneath me, impossibly strong, the memory of my injuries nothing but ash in the wind.
My spine stretched. My hearing sharpened until I could hear every breath, every heartbeat, every step shifting in the dirt behind me.
My teeth ached, lengthening, my canines slicing through my gums.
What the Hel was I becoming?
It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.
This beast was something older and stronger and wilder. And it had risen to defend what was left of me.
They tried to run.
A grin split across my face. Marvelous.
Let the hunt commence.
I lunged first for the male who’d been too gleeful to take what was not his to claim, claws raking across his throat, opening it like a slaughtered pig. Blood sprayed in an arc as he gurgled and dropped, his body convulsing.
Another swung a blade. I ducked low, my new senses anticipating the strike before it came. I twisted behind him, grabbed his head with both hands, and slammed it into the trunk of a tree so hard the bark cracked.
He slid down, twitching, skull caved in.
I turned toward the others.
Two more tried to charge together, shouting commands.
It was useless. I was already in the air, tackling them to the ground, slashing one across the chest so deep his ribs split open. The other tried to roll free, only to catch my claws in his side. I ripped flesh and muscle with an animal roar, then tossed him into the fire.
The camp lit up in chaos. Screams. Blades clattering. The sharp stink of urine flew up my nose as one of them pissed themselves while scrambling for a weapon.
One came at me with twin daggers, whirling fast and low like he’d been trained. I grinned and dodged his first strike, then caught his arm mid-swing. The bones in his forearm snapped in my grip, and I wrenched the blade from his hand, then stabbed it through his throat.
He didn’t scream. He choked and fell.
Another tried to flee, but I gave chase on all fours, faster than anything born of this world should’ve been. I leapt onto his back, sank my teeth into the crook of his neck, and tore his spine open with a single slash of my claws.
Blood dripped from my lips as I tipped my head to the heavens and howled, a cry of fury and freedom, daring anything, anyone, to face me next.
But only silence answered, the forest holding its breath.
My vision blurred and then cleared, the feral red fading from my gaze.
I blinked, panting, claws still extended.
Around me, bodies lay mangled and burnt, twisted and dead.
The snow was painted in ash and gore. My limbs trembled, the scent of blood thick in my nose, iron and smoke clinging to the back of my throat.
Thwip.
An arrow hissed past my cheek, and I spun with a snarl, claws lifted, but the shot hadn’t been meant for me. It struck a dissenter creeping up behind me, right through his eye—the same coward who’d abandoned me to his pack. He dropped with a twitch and went still.