12. Chapter Twelve #2
“Now, wait just one minute!” My father’s voice barked through the growing murmur of the crowd, sharp and indignant.
He stood behind the bar, his hands gripping the worn wood as he addressed the gathering.
“The doctor said the injuries were consistent with an animal attack—and what about those strangers in town?” He turned to look at the room.
“You think it’s more likely to be someone you’ve known since birth— or someone you know nothing about!
” He looked directly at me, his eyes pleading for support, begging me to back him up.
My heart lurched in my chest. My thoughts raced. I couldn’t let him—or anyone else—draw attention to Drake, Fen, and Felix. The room was a powder keg, and one misplaced word would strike the match.
I stepped forward and raised my voice to be heard above the din of the crowd.
“How about before we go throwing accusations around, we stop and think?” I said quickly.
Every face turned toward me. My pulse thundered in my ears, but I forced myself to stay calm.
“Mister Trebuie was just telling me about animal attacks in Castle City,” I continued, drudging up the first thing I could think of.
“Savage, unexplained killings. Maybe it’s related.
Maybe whatever did that traveled here,” the murmurs grew louder, the crowd shifting uneasily as they processed my words.
But Colin’s father wasn’t having it. He surged forward, his face twisted with fury.
“I know it was you, wench!” he spat. “You’re lucky my boy gave you more than a passing glance!
” The insult hit like a slap. Gasps echoed, and the room erupted once more, voices rising as accusations and opinions flew back and forth.
“You watch your damn mouth!” my father shouted, stepping out from behind the bar and pointing a shaking finger at Colin Senior. “You don’t get to speak to my daughter like that!”
“And what are you going to do about it, old man?” Colin shot back, his tone dripping with disdain.
Their voices clashed, the tension in the room reaching a fever pitch.
Others joined in, shouting their own opinions and suspicions.
It was chaos, pure and raw. And while they shouted, and blamed and postured— I slipped quietly toward the stairs.
My movements were quick but deliberate. My heart pounded as I climbed, every step taking me farther from the fray below.
At the top, I pressed a trembling hand to my forehead, trying to make sense of it all.
One thing was clear: Drake was right. We had to leave tonight.
If we didn’t, Colin Senior would bring in the Kingdom’s officials.
A formal investigation would follow, and it wouldn’t just endanger Drake and his companions.
It would expose everything—about them, about me.
The rebellion.
I entered my room and shut the door behind me, letting out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding—only to spin around and find Drake, Felix, and Fen already inside. I jumped, my hand flying to my chest.
“Gods, how do you do that?” I asked, my voice tinged with exasperation. I brushed past them, heading straight to the window. Peeking through the curtains, I watched as the townsfolk slowly filed out of the inn, their voices still carrying faintly from below.
“You get used to it,” Fen said flatly, lounging on my bed like she owned the place.
Her long, crimson-painted nails perfectly matched her full lips.
Her feline face wore its usual air of detached disdain, but her beauty was undeniable—sharp cheekbones and piercing eyes.
The contrast between her pale skin and jet-black hair was striking.
I paused, feeling a pang of envy. How could Drake not be interested in her?
Unless… he was . The thought made my stomach twist uncomfortably, though I quickly pushed it aside.
“What happened!?” Felix’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts, sharp but laced with warmth. He was already stepping toward me, curls bouncing, his golden eyes wide and worried. “Tell me everything.”
I took a steadying breath, glancing between the three of them.
“Colin Senior was here, along with the rest of the town. They knew he and I had a… a date last night.” My eyes flicked—against my will—toward Drake.
Heat crept up my neck. “One I definitely didn’t want to go on,” I added quickly, the words tumbling out faster than I meant them to. “Nevertheless, they’re suspicious.”
Felix groaned dramatically, throwing his hands up. “Perfect. Just what we needed. A grieving mob with pitchforks and nothing better to do than gossip.”
Fen grimaced. “Wonderful.”
“And then my father,” I swallowed— “ helpfully reminded everyone about our three mysterious guests,” my gaze lingered on Drake, who cursed softly.
“You just had to kill him, didn’t you?” Fen’s voice was sharp, cutting through the room like a blade. She shook her head, her eyes narrowing as they fixed on Drake.
He stepped forward. “He saw me, Fen. What would you have me do? Let him live and run to the Kingdom with our names?”
Fen pushed off the bed. “How about sticking to the original plan? Take the girl. Get back to the city. No games. No Delays. But no, instead, we’re lingering in this depressing little village, pretending she has a choice!”
Pretending I have a choice . Her words hit harder than they should have. I turned to Drake, searching his face for some kind of reassurance, but he refused to meet my gaze.
“That’s enough,” Drake snapped, his voice was thunderous. His expression was steely as he glared at Fen, his massive frame radiating tension. “I acted as captain of this unit and made a call.”
Fen’s smile was sharp as glass. “A call you made with your cock,”
Before the silence could curdle, Felix stepped smoothly between them, his curls haloed by the dim light.
“Fen,” he said softly, but his tone carried a rare firmness.
“That’s not fair. He saved her life. Yours too, indirectly, unless you fancy explaining to the King why someone saw a riftborn almost commit murder.
You don’t have to like his methods, but don’t you dare belittle them. ”
Fen’s jaw ticked. Her eyes flicked to Felix. For once, she didn’t speak. Just a sharp exhale through her nose before she shoved past me and stormed out the door.
I stood frozen, my mouth slightly agape, watching her retreat. Drake’s expression was unreadable as he moved to follow her. He paused in the doorway, his hand briefly clenching the frame, but he didn’t look back. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me and Felix alone.
I blinked hard, feeling tears welling up in my eyes, hot and stinging, threatening to spill over.
“Hey, hey,” Felix murmured, stepping closer.
He patted my good shoulder gently, then squeezed my hand with his smaller one.
His smile was crooked, apologetic. “Don’t take her daggers too deeply, darling.
She throws them at everyone. Complicated doesn’t begin to cover her.
” He tilted his head, his molten gold eyes softening.
“But you? You’re not the problem. Don’t you believe that for a second. ”
He lingered long enough for me to feel steadied, then sighed, releasing my hand. “Now, dry those pretty eyes before the Captain walks back in. If he sees you crying, he’ll tear the door off its hinges—and I’m the one who has to deal with the repairs.”
Despite everything, a weak laugh bubbled out of me. Felix grinned, satisfied, then slipped toward the hall. And just like that, I was alone again.
Absolutely everything that had happened in the last twelve hours had left me more emotionally and physically drained than I’d ever thought possible.
I now stood alone in my dimly lit room, the faint golden glow from the lamp on my nightstand barely keeping the darkness at bay.
The weight of it all pressed down on me, suffocating in its intensity.
I was a murder suspect in the eyes of my neighbors, an unknowing linchpin of a rebellion I hadn’t asked to be part of, and—of all things—a Riftborn.
Magic coursed through my blood, apparently, though it felt more like poison than a gift.
Oh, and I was nursing a stab wound.
I caught sight of myself in the cracked mirror above my small vanity.
My pale skin seemed even more ghostly in the faint light, my hair a tangled crown of red fire, and a tear-streaked face.
I carefully reached up with my good arm, tugging at the robe draped over my shoulders.
It slipped free, revealing the silk beneath and the faint pink scar— Colin’s final mark.
The sight made my stomach twist, a bitter cocktail of fear and anger churning inside me.
The sling on my arm looked pitifully out of place against the delicate silk of my nightgown, the fabric clinging to me in ways that felt both comforting and suffocating.
I didn’t have the energy to get beneath the comforter. Hell, I barely had the energy to stay upright. My body felt heavy, my limbs like lead, and the ache in my shoulder throbbed in time with the erratic beat of my heart.
With a weary sigh, I sank onto the bed, the cool fabric of the sheets brushing against my skin.
I stared up at the ceiling, tracing the faint lines of cracked plaster.
Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, unbidden and unwelcome.
I didn’t know who I was anymore. I didn’t know if I’d ever really known.
Was I Evandra, the quiet innkeeper of Winshire?
Or was I something more —something dangerous, something powerful?
I exhaled shakily, the weight in my chest pressing harder as I replayed the events of the day. Colin’s face in the shed—Drake’s growl in the darkness. I didn’t know what scared me more—what I’d seen or what I felt.