Chapter 14
The world blurred at the edges as I raced away, my legs moving as if I were running through waist-deep sand. I pumped my arms harder in a desperate attempt to increase my pace.
I had to get away, get away, get away…
A horse let out a shrieking neigh behind me. Where were Zuriel and Heraphia? I chanced a glance over my shoulder, a cry ripping from my throat as I beheld the Issaraeth and a dozen others devouring the distance between us.
My friends were nowhere to be found. Had they been caught already?
Something pearlescent flashed off to my left, and I whipped my head to the side, finding Heraphia barreling straight toward me. The aquamarine of her irises had been swallowed by pure ivory.
Air lodged in my throat. She was mid-vision and galloping forward, arms outstretched, rather than collapsing. Unease dug into my marrow. Something was very, very wrong.
“Heraphia! You have to flee!” I called out, desperate to save her.
But she collided with me, sending us both tumbling down into a ravine. Limbs tangled, we came to a stop close enough to the river that the forceful spray dotted my skin. “Heraphia,” I said, shaking us apart and trying to rouse her from her vision.
The hoofbeats drew closer. We had to get moving or we’d be caught and dragged to Sivy.
“I See, I See…” my friend said, her lips forming shapes but no audible words emerged.
“What do you See?” I pressed, hooking my arms under her and hauling her upright. But my muscles were weak, and I scarcely lifted her off the ground.
I swore and tried again. Why couldn’t I move? Why were my limbs gliding water when I needed furious fire?
My entire body froze as a laugh—sinister, wicked, haunting—ghosted over the river. It scraped over my skin, leaving me raw and flayed. Heraphia continued to murmur unintelligible words.
The males encircled us, leaving us without routes of escape.
No, no, no, no, no…
I’d failed.
Pricks of pain flooded my scalp as someone yanked my head back. Ice-blue eyes stared into mine, and lightning lanced every fiber of my being. “No!” I shrieked, jerking against his hold but only succeeding in falling deeper into his embrace.
Air seared my lungs as I yanked in a breath and jolted awake. The hard base of the tree pressed into my cheek, rings bowing out in front of me, leading straight to the Issaraeth. I slammed my lids shut immediately.
Heart thundering against my ribs, I attempted to slow my breathing.
Just a dream. Not real.
Heraphia was alive and likely almost to Sivy now. My captor hadn’t forced me to look at him, and no circular mark branded the space between my shoulder blades.
As the blood ceased rushing in my ears, I noted a distinct breathing pattern. Slow. Soft. Familiar from nights forced to rest mere feet from my fated mate.
Is the Issaraeth asleep?
I cracked one eye, just enough to take in his form, before realizing he, in fact, had succumbed to slumber. The rain still hammered the world beyond, a tormented lullaby that had dragged us both under its spell.
I’d never seen him so…unguarded. The seriousness of his brow, one jagged and scarred, eased in the land of dreams. Iron-gray lashes lounged against his carved cheekbones.
He was infuriatingly handsome.
Shaking my head to clear the thought, I flattened my palms against the wood and eased upright noiselessly, careful not to let the bronze cuffs clink. He did not stir with the movement. Breath shallower than the shores of a lake, I crept toward the canvas covering the entry, peering into the storm.
Fog clung to everything. I could scarcely see the next tree, let alone Ilae.
I glanced over my shoulder at the sleeping hunter.
Is now my chance to escape?
A waterskin rested against one of the packs. Mine.
I’d shoved virelthorn inside before escaping Ithuriel’s estate.
Could I sneak a hand in the side pocket and grab it? Could I dash away into the storm and escape the Issaraeth?
I had to try.
I snatched the leather straps and lifted the waterskin over my shoulder so it hung across my body. Then, my fingers trailed along the outline of my bag, searching for the vials. My heart skipped a beat when I found them.
Attention fixed on the slightest twitch from the Issaraeth, I reached inside, careful not to jostle the buckles. When I’d successfully retrieved the herb, I shoved it into the still-damp bind around my breasts.
Then, I grabbed my shoes and slipped them back onto my feet, cringing at the cold sogginess to them. With agonizingly slow movements, I crawled closer to the exit, my focus on the rise and fall of the Issaraeth’s chest.
Fingers hooking the edge of the canvas, I tugged it wider and glanced around.
Bursting through would surely wake him. I wasn’t sure where Ilae was either.
But if I could find another spot to hide for the briefest of moments, they’d race away, leaving more opportunity to choose a different direction and put distance between us.
But the mist made it impossible to see.
A snort sounded behind me, and I whipped around, finding my captor flopping onto his back. But he was still asleep.
Thank the Goddess.
It was a sign I had no more time to waste, though. I rose to my feet, hands trembling with anticipation. I lifted the flap higher, wedging my shoulder into the now-open space. A cool breeze drifted in, and I winced, hoping that wouldn’t wake him.
I shimmied further, getting stuck at the juncture between my shoulder and neck.
Now or never.
Muscles tensing, I prepared to launch myself into the storm. A clap of thunder shot me into action. I leaped, clearing the stairs, and landed lightly on the sodden ground. The muck squelched beneath my shoes as I sprinted away, peering into the fog.
Where is another carved-out tree?
Unlike my dream, my legs moved with fluid grace, carrying me on as fast as I could manage.
My lungs burned from the effort, but the knowledge I was claiming a chance at freedom propelled me forward.
I cut right, hugging the trunk of a tree to slingshot myself around it, and headed back toward the mountains.
It was safer there than in the forest.
A steel-edged baritone voice sliced through the rain some distance away.
Fuck. The Issaraeth had awoken. Which meant I was running out of time to shake him off my trail.
The stakes were higher than they’d ever been.
This wasn’t a mere escape attempt, like I’d executed countless times before.
No, this was life or death for me. It was rebellion against the monarchy. Defiance of what the Goddess had gifted me.
And I wasn’t going to let anyone steal this moment.
A thick root appeared in my path, and I leaped over it, hitting the other side at a dead sprint. Rain lashed my face, plastering my hair to my skin. I blinked droplets off my lashes, risking a moment to wipe my face with the back of my hand.
Not like it helped.
I was soaked through yet again.
Boulders appeared like a beacon, and I careened toward them, praying for a place to hide.
Until a shadow emerged from the mist. A low hum reached my ears.
Ilae.
I skidded to a stop, making a quick survey of my surroundings, then dodged left, hoping he hadn’t seen me. The trees and brush were thick, and I dove into them, not caring if they scraped my skin.
The specter sailed by, seeming not to notice me.
My chest heaved from my exertion, but I couldn’t stop. Not if the auravane was that close. If he spotted me, the Issaraeth wouldn’t be far behind.
One minute.
I gulped down moist air, willing my heart rate to slow. A branch snapped as I shifted my weight. It tumbled to the wet earth, its sharp point sticking straight up. An idea sparked in my mind. I grasped it, twisting it in my fingers and shoving it into the lock on the bronze cuff.
If I could access my magic again, it would aid in my escape.
The angle was awkward, and my bound hands couldn’t contort enough. I brought the twig to my mouth and clenched it between my teeth. Neck muscles protesting, I wiggled it around until I heard a click.
The first cuff clattered away. I made quick work of removing the second.
Thunder rumbled overhead, masking the sound.
I have to move. Now.
I burst from my hiding spot, continuing onto the boulders. Their looming forms beckoned me, promising haven from my fated mate. Lightning cracked the sky overhead, briefly illuminating more than the fog allowed me to see.
And standing atop them was the Issaraeth, white teeth flashing in a predatory grin.
A scream shredded my throat. I spun, racing back toward the bushes to hide. His footsteps pounded behind me. I threw myself into the brush again, only to meet empty air.
My eyes widened as I remained suspended in midair for the span of a breath. My prior hiding spot had been obscuring a steep drop into a ravine. I tumbled down the embankment, leaves and twigs snapping beneath me. A rock punched the air from my lungs, along with a sharp cry of pain.
But it was nothing compared to the sound that escaped me when my knee slammed into the next set of hard stones.
Tears sprung to my eyes, and I finally halted against a row of lumpy river rocks. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I cursed, lifting my leg to clutch it to my chest.
But the pain was excruciating. I couldn’t bend my knee at all.
This was the type of injury dancers whispered about, terror in their tones.
And I wasn’t planning on performing the Sleeping Maiden.
I was running for my life. For my freedom.
The Issaraeth cannot have me.
In a last, desperate attempt to save myself, I flipped to my belly and yanked my wings into existence. The white feathers burst from my back as I shoved myself away from the ground, using the momentum to propel me forward.
Until the air beneath my wings shuddered.
The very earth sucked in a breath.
And one word rang out amid the storm.
“FREEZE.”
The Issaraeth’s Command halted me in midair.
No no no no no no…
I wanted to sob. Wanted to scream.
But I could do nothing.
I knew, then. There was no mercy for the wicked like in our prayers. They didn’t need it when they wielded power that could shatter all resistance.
Who was the Goddess compared to him and his might?
Rocks crunched beneath the Issaraeth’s boots as he approached. Slowly, of course, because this wasn’t torture enough. He had to drag it out.
My knee throbbed, the space between my foot and the ground pulling at the joint when it really needed to be wrapped and stabilized.
Iron-gray hair appeared in my periphery. I was powerless to close my eyes, to shut out the sight of him.
“Sylaira, Sylaira, Sylaira. You should have known better than to bolt.”
He rounded in front of me.
“There is no escaping me. Not now that I have caught your scent.”
He lifted his chin.
“You are mine, little fugitive.”
Ice-blue irises collided with mine.
Lightning arced through my veins, shattering the Command’s hold over me into a million tiny shards.
I collapsed to the ground with a scream.
The pain in my knee and ribs was forgotten, replaced by this jagged agony carving up my back.
My wings winked out of existence as the onslaught of the transformation overwhelmed me.
“No,” I sobbed as something solidified in my chest, right in the middle of the well of my power. I felt him there—the darkness of his soul, the depth of his power, the dominance of his fury.
The rotten vines of him wrapped around my ribs, never to let me go again.
Because our bond had been sealed. I was now officially mated to the Issaraeth. Which meant that the rest of my life was lost.
My limbs gave out beneath me, and I crumpled into the rocky river’s edge. Hot salt blurred my vision. The rain picked up then, as if the sky too cried for my fate.
It was the only sympathy I’d receive for this curse the Goddess had placed on me.
“You…” the Issaraeth started, a hand pressed over his broad chest. It heaved as he blinked, trying to process what I already knew. He cleared his throat, his velvet voice turning to scraping steel.
“You are my fated mate?”