Chapter 43 – Rowan
ROWAN
The raiders form a semi-circle around me, hemming me against the tree at my back. So I have to move fast, swinging myself tightly around the trunk and slipping between the two large idiots behind me.
I sprint toward the sound of running water.
I’ll never outrun them, but if I can make it to the river…
maybe I can take my chances in the water…
The roar of rushing water grows louder as I burst through the trees and down the steep embankment.
The river stretches wide below me, the white water churning over dark rocks. I’m halfway down the hill when—
Abruptly, someone’s hand wraps around my arm, wrenching it back roughly and cutting off the fleeting burst of hope.
Pain explodes through my shoulder, and I cry out. A second later, a fist tangles in my hair, ripping my head around. A scream tears out of me at the searing pain in my scalp.
“Got you,” the raider grunts, proud of himself. He holds me up by my hair like I’m some prized fish.
My fist connects hard with his side, and he curses, shaking me hard, but unfortunately, he doesn’t let go.
I fight hard, but he’s more than twice my weight. I can’t stop him from dragging me forward until I find myself once again face to face with the blonde fae leader.
I might’ve considered him to be handsome, if it weren’t for that oily smile of his—and the way it doesn’t reach his eyes.
He straightens slowly, as if he has all the time in the world, making a show of fixing his hair that my sudden dash for freedom must have mussed up. There’s a knife in his hand, but I don’t flinch when he suddenly points it in my direction, clicking his tongue.
“I told you to behave.” His gaze trails over me. “I’m disappointed.”
“My specialty,” I snap, smiling coldly at him.
“We have orders, Noz.” My attention flicks to the dark-haired fae standing next to him; I hadn’t noticed him a second ago.
A wicked gleam flashes through Noz’s crystal blue eyes.
“Orders can wait a day—or two.” His eyes drop to my chest, and the interest there sends my stomach roiling with disgust.
But alongside it—anger. Red-hot, furious rage boils deep inside. I feel my magic rise up venomously, and the burn of the rune tattooed on my wrist when it flares, forcing the power back.
I am so tired of being at the mercy of cocky, arrogant, asshole males. Both fists tighten at my sides.
Noz steps forward, a smug smile on his face—convinced he has me cornered. His hand reaches out for me, but I draw back, staying just outside his reach.
“Don’t touch me,” I warn, my eyes darkening as I feel the rage inside me converge.
The look of defiance in my eyes displeases him, and his smile fades to a frown.
“Sweetheart,” he clicks his tongue again. “Allow me to educate you on your new reality.”
The male who caught me is still at my back; he grabs both my shoulders, shoving me roughly forward. I stumble right into Noz’s grasp. He wraps his fist in my hair, forcing me closer.
The scent of him is nauseating. Sweat, blood, and something else—something sour.
Holding me still with one hand, he traces a finger down my cheek with the other, and when he reaches my mouth, he swipes his thumb along my bottom lip.
“Let’s get something straight: I’m going to touch you wherever and whenever I want.
” His eyes drop once more to my mouth, and darken with desire.
“I’ll have you on your knees before I’m done with you. ”
Smirking victoriously, he lifts his chin back toward his buddies, all of whom snicker in agreement.
But I’m done playing the mouse.
I reach for my knife, and once it’s in my hand, I ram it hard into the soft swath of skin between his ribs.
Noz’s breath catches, his blue eyes flying back to me, his pupils blown wide in genuine shock.
His goony friends are still too busy laughing at my expense to realize what’s happened. They are still completely unaware of the dire shift that has just played out right in front of them.
Noz’s grip loosens on my hair, and I rip the dagger out, a rush of blood spilling out with it. He stumbles, a choking sound escaping from his throat before he falls to his knees.
“Or perhaps,” I flash the pearly whites of my fangs, looking down my nose at him, “I’ll have you on yours.”
My blade flashes again when I slice it clean across his throat.
Blood pours out, and Noz collapses fully to the ground, his grunts and gurgling growing quieter until there is only silence.
I smile at the raiders circled about. None of them know what to do; they just stand gaping at me while I spin the bloody knife in my palm.
“Who’s next?”
One of them roars and charges at me, but before I even have time to brace myself, he drops—an arrow jutting out of his skull.
Shouts ring out as panic scatters the group. All of them scrambling, frantically scanning the area… looking for the shooter.
I’m curious too, but I seize the opportunity to back further away—inching closer to the raging river on my left.
The familiar zing of another arrow cuts the air, earning my attention. I look up just in time to watch another raider drop.
My head whips to the right, tracing the black arrow back to—
My blood goes cold.
Ayer.
The Kovari captain is a sight to behold in that black armour of his; his long dark cloak billowing out behind him as he descends the hill on foot. He already has another arrow nocked and drawn back, ready to loose.
The two remaining fae hesitate—freezing for a moment—glancing around wildly at both their dead companions and then each other before they split apart.
One charges uphill—toward Ayer, while the other lifts his sword, rage in his features as he comes straight for me.
“Shit.” I backpedal, my heart slamming against my chest, but my heel catches on a rock and I go down—hard.
The fall knocks the breath out of me. On the ground now, I scramble to get out of range of his sword, but I’m not fast enough.
The fae raider stops above me, raising his blade high above my head, a look of satisfaction in his eyes just before they roll back into his skull.
He falters.
I roll hard to the side as his body collapses, landing where I’d just been sitting—a knife buried deep in the back of his skull.
I stare at it.
At him.
And then up.
Ayer is still only halfway down the hill.
Too far.
Impossible. That throw—
I survey the carnage before me. Four males lay dead, three of whom by next-to-impossible shots, made within mere seconds of each other. I’m not the best shot, but even I know that for that level of accuracy—from that distance…
Impossible.
The last surviving raider freezes, his gaze snapping back to his fallen buddy. He takes one glance between Ayer and the body of his friend before he turns, high-tailing it for the tree line.
He nearly makes it, too. Ayer waits until he’s nearly reached the tree line before his arrow takes him in the back of the head.
Silence falls.
It’s just Ayer and me.
He starts toward me, but I inch backward—moving closer toward the river. The icy spray of the wild water hits my cheek.
My heart pounds violently in my chest as he quickly closes the distance, slowing as he draws closer. I still don’t know what Kovaria wants from me—why they kept me alive. Wherever this journey through the Wyldewood ends, it ends soon.
I’m alive for a reason. Purpose or pleasure—I don’t know yet. But I don’t want to find out.
I steal a glance back at the river raging below. Water crashes through the narrow gorge in a frothing wall of white, hurling itself over jagged boulders with enough force to shake the earth beneath my boots. The current tears at everything in its path, the sound of it nearly deafening this close.
I can’t swim.
I turn back.
Ayer has reached the bottom of the hill now, closing the distance between us with long, purposeful strides.
My gaze darts back to the river. Then to him.
The river.
Ayer.
The river.
His pace slows, understanding flashes across his face, and his eyes go wide. “No!”
I can barely hear the word over the crashing sounds of the water.
He promised me death. With Ayer, death is certain. An inevitability.
But this way… I look back once more at the raging water below.
I can choose.
“Rowan—” The sound of my name in his rough voice pulls my eyes back to his.
For one suspended heartbeat, neither of us moves. Then he reaches toward me, his mouth opening.
But I don’t wait to hear whatever order will follow. He won’t be able to use me, and my brothers will be safe. I make my choice, stepping backward.
For the briefest instant, there is nothing beneath my feet, and it’s as if I’m flying. Wind tears through my hair, stealing the scream from my throat as the river rises to meet me. The roar swallows everything: the pounding of my heart, Ayer shouting my name, even my own thoughts.
Then—
The river hits me.
Or maybe I hit it.
The impact is brutal, the freezing water knocking every ounce of air from my lungs. Water crashes over me with the force of a battering ram, driving me deep beneath the surface, darkness swallowing me whole.