Chapter 19 #2
The fog had rolled in thick off the Virellan Sea, so dense I could barely see more than a few feet ahead, swallowing the street around me.
The castle wasn't visible, not even a hint of it through the haze, but I knew the way.
I could picture it clearly enough in my mind, perched above the bay.
I turned in that direction and hurried on.
Behind me, the tavern door opened again. Laughter spilled out into the night, along with music and raised voices, then cut off as the door swung shut once more. I didn’t turn, but I heard them—boots hitting the street, uneven, careless. Likely males leaving for the night.
A broad avenue opened suddenly to my right, appearing so abruptly that I jolted in surprise. A shopfront on the corner caught my eye. I was certain I’d passed it earlier.
I turned. The road stretched ahead, quieter than the one I'd left, and I followed it, in search of familiar landmarks. The ground changed beneath my feet, the solid cobblestones giving way to gravel and packed dirt. My steps slowed. I didn't remember this road.
Behind me, boots crunched. More than one set. Then came a low, rough chuckle.
I quickened my pace. The footsteps quickened too.
My breath shortened, my heart kicking hard against my ribs as I turned down another street, then another, pushing faster, trying to lose them, to put any distance between us. The sound of them only followed, closer now, louder, gaining.
“Human,” a voice called out, slurred with drink and edged with mockery. “No use running. We can scent you.”
The sound of it sent a jolt of fear through me. It was him. The male from the tavern.
I ran.
My boots thudded against the damp ground as I turned into a narrow alley, its walls rising close on either side, the fog hanging thick between them. I pushed forward, my breath burning in my lungs—and stopped short.
Dead end.
I spun around, chest heaving, eyes straining against the shifting gray as I tried to see through it.
The footsteps slowed as they drew closer, shapes taking form through the haze. He stepped through the fog with a slow, satisfied grin, two of his friends falling into place at either side of him. All three were broad, thickly built males, their arms corded with muscle earned through hard labor.
I stepped back instinctively, but there was nowhere left to go. My back hit the brick wall.
The leader moved forward, his gaze fixed on me as his hand dropped to his belt and drew a blade free. It was short, curved slightly. The kind used for gutting fish. His smile spread slowly across his face, his eyes fixed on me with a satisfaction that made my skin crawl.
“Sharp mouth for human filth.” He spat a wad of phlegm to the side and advanced on me. “Think I'll cut your tongue out for it once I've had my fun.”
The two at his sides spread out just enough to block any escape. One cracked his knuckles, the sharp pop echoing off the alley walls.
“Me first.” The leader’s grin turned ugly.
They moved toward me at once, slow and unhurried, their eyes glittering with cruel anticipation, like they meant to enjoy every second of what came next.
The frigid air burned in my lungs as I glanced around for anything I could use. A loose stone. A broken crate. Anything heavy enough to swing. If I could drop one of them, even for a second, I might be able to slip through and run.
The one on the right let out a low, rasping laugh, like he could see exactly what I was thinking.
He reached for me, his hand opening slowly, fingers flexing as if he could already feel my arm in his grip.
I shifted my weight, my heart pounding as I braced myself. I wasn’t going down without a fight.
His thick fingers stopped inches from me, his eyes widening in sudden confusion as they met mine—
He was yanked backward into the fog. A short, choked grunt, a heavy thud out of sight. Then nothing.
The other two whirled around, staring into the swirling gray where their companion had vanished. The second man squinted into the fog, his mouth parting as if to call out for him—
His body snapped forward just as suddenly as the first, vanishing from sight. A loud crack split the silence, followed by a hoarse, pained yell that cut off almost instantly.
Sudden stillness. The fog closed in around us, dense and impenetrable.
The leader peered into the thick swirl, his shoulders rigid, his back to me. His grip tightened on the knife until his knuckles blanched. His breath came faster now, fearful, each exhale ragged in the cold.
“Who’s there?” he called loudly. “Show yourself.”
For a moment, nothing answered.
Then a figure stepped through the haze. Tall and imposing, his face lost in the shadow of a dark hood. The bond snapped tight inside me, that familiar, inescapable pull locking into place. And I knew.
I knew without needing to see his face.
Dread curled low in my gut.
“She’s mine,” he growled.