Chapter 9
Dark, grabbing trees dug into my flesh. A howl chased me, but my legs moved as if through deep sludge. I whipped my head around, seeking the source of the sound.
White flashed.
I slammed my eyes shut.
The whoosh of wings clipped my ear.
I tried to turn, tried to run, but every exertion was weighted and heavy.
“Sylaira,” the Issaraeth crooned, his voice warping through branches and reverberating in my skull.
My fingers curled into my palms.
His sinister laugh came from nowhere and everywhere as I finally managed to pound my feet against the earth. I opened my eyes, trying to see a way out of the forest, away from my fated mate.
“I’m coming for you.”
“Run, Seer, while you still can.”
“You’ll be my prisoner soon enough.”
Taunt after taunt slammed me from all directions. My heart thundered against my ribs. I didn’t know which way to go. Only that I refused to break under the Issaraeth’s torment.
A dark figure thudded to the ground in front of me, large and looming like an omen.
And when I skidded to a stop, his hand closed around my throat. He brought me closer no matter how hard I thrashed. I turned my head to the side, because he couldn’t look me in the eyes.
His hot breath ghosted over my ear.
“All mine now.”
I woke with a start, light just beginning its gentle caress of the skies. My throat ached as if the Issaraeth had been here, in this thicket, pinning me down. Chest heaving, I collapsed backward, wiping the sweat from my brow.
The Issaraeth had pursued me for days, disappearing for hours, allowing a bud of hope to bloom inside me that I’d gotten away—only to reappear within shouting distance and kill the delicate flower.
He hunted like a predator toying with his food; I was the prey he intended to devour.
Exhaustion claimed every one of my muscles. I hadn’t even managed to sleep for more than a few minutes at a time through the night for fear of him sneaking up on me.
Vaels?r Temple was close. So fucking close I could almost taste it.
I only needed to find the holy stream that led to it.
Easing through the forest on silent feet, I sniffed the air, praying for a whiff of moisture. I cocked my head, listening for the trickle of water. Or the telltale footsteps of the male’s approach.
I didn’t doubt he had lost sight of me.
It was only a matter of how far he was willing to let me get ahead of him.
I had considered, for the briefest of moments, surrendering my life by diving into the icy ravine.
But I wanted to live. My life didn’t deserve to end in such a senseless way.
Someday, I would stop running.
Someday, I would face them head on like a rising storm.
Someday, I would wield power and they would fear the lightning I would bring.
Darkness crept on the edges of my vision. It had been too long since I’d taken virelthorn. While the years I’d consumed it had built up some reserves in my body, the last thing I wanted was to See while I was running from the Issaraeth.
With my luck, I’d have a prophecy of something that would help the war, and he’d report it to his sister straight away.
And then, I’d be no better than the other murderers out there. Blood would be on my hands whether I swung a blade or not.
I would not let them taint me.
Blinding incandescence flooded my senses. Pressure built behind my forehead. I halted, sucking in a sharp breath. Trembled as I waited for my spine to snap straight. For my power to surge from deep within me.
Please, not now. Please.
The feeling dissipated like smoke in the wind.
And when my eyes adjusted to the forest once more, a snowberry bush appeared…along with the scent of water in the air.
This had to be it.
Heart leaping, I rushed forward, curving around a bough, and found the thick, steaming stream.
“Thank you,” I choked out, nose stinging as I glanced skyward, toward where the Goddess watched over us.
She’d given me this cursed bond, but She’d also given me a way out of it.
I turned, following the flow uphill at a jog. Vaels?r couldn’t be far now.
My lungs burned from the effort. From the altitude. From the lack of air.
But I kept pushing toward safety. Nothing else mattered.
A laugh rumbled from above, and I snapped my head up, finding the Issaraeth and the auravane perched in a tree overhanging the water ahead.
“You were so close, little fugitive. What would you have done if you’d made it?” he crooned, branch creaking like the warning before a storm breaks.
A scream shredded my throat, and I jerked my gaze away before it could accidentally collide with my mate’s. Snatching at my magic, I shoved light into my ears, blocking all sound.
Heavy thuds shook the ground beneath my feet as I raced back into the forest.
I knew, I fucking knew, he hadn’t lost me.
Arms pumping, legs striking at a frantic pace, I tried to weave around him and snatch haven from the temple.
But crashing footsteps closed in on me.
I couldn’t look. Not with the risk it posed.
The trees thickened around me, like a cage closing in. A sob wracked my chest. Even the forest worked against me, thick, hanging vines dropping and threatening to entangle me.
I had been so, so close.
Stop it, Sylaira. There is still time.
Determination gritted my teeth. I shoved down the pain, harnessed my terror to push my body to its limits. After all the Vaela? I’d done, I was no stranger to it.
I sensed movement from my left and shrank right, hitching my steps at the last moment. The bird sailed past me.
I ducked under a low branch, leaped over another, stuck out a hand and spun around a trunk. Years of dancing had made me agile, able to turn on a moment’s notice.
Because if he touched me…
I refused to even consider it. Refused to give the possibility breath. Refused to let it live.
A presence pressed down on me, malignant and preternatural. My ribs cinched tight as I saw him between two trees ahead. The Issaraeth stood, arms crossed and waiting, looking like he’d barely exerted himself.
Why wasn’t he using his magic on me?
He didn’t need to. To him, I was already caught.
Anger flared white-hot inside me.
His underestimation would be his undoing.
I broke right, back toward the stream. There, the ground was even, and I didn’t risk tripping over a root. Calling on my light magic, I held what little remained just beneath the surface of my skin, readying to throw up a shield the next time he attempted to snatch me.
The Issaraeth burst from the treeline behind me. My next step upward revealed the carved stone of the temple.
“Help!” I called out, risking a breath on the chance someone inside would come to my aid.
The hairs on the back of my neck raised as he closed in. Even though my legs were long and graceful, they were nothing compared to a trained warrior’s.
White magic tangled around my limbs. I yanked on my own and pulled my wings into existence.
I would not let him have me.
Three wingbeats got me airborne. Three wingbeats made the outline of Vaels?r visible through the canopies.
I had to beat fate. I had to do something.
But it was too late.
More power encased me. I squeezed my eyes shut.
Because as the scent of stormwood enveloped my nostrils, there was no denying that I was about to be the Issaraeth’s prisoner.