Chapter 20
Alora
Acarved mahogany wood door with intricate swirls and ravens stands before me. The details burned into my mind.
I’ve stood here for far too long with my hand pressed against the cool surface, too scared to open it and take in the devastation that waits just beyond. I’ve also noticed how my nails have been gnawed too short, a nervous habit I can’t seem to get rid of.
If time could stop, I’m sure it would feel like this. The in—between, distant feeling, where my breath falls short and my mind races.
As if time catches up with the motions of my hand, the door pushes open to reveal the outside torment.
My feet stop at the threshold, frozen in place as if I’m weighed down by mud.
The first thing that punches me in the face is the smell of rot. The sickening sweet stench of soured flesh riddled with smoke and sorrow.
The second thing to come is a torrent of hushed cries, whether it be from those mourning or those that lay broken and terminal. I’d wanted to help them all the moment we arrived, but many, if not all, insisted we let the veil take them.
The Devourer stands behind me. Heat from his body radiates, warming my chilled bones and shattered soul. Unknowingly or otherwise, his presence helps me to not feel so alone.
He could just be eager to verify my truths, to see if I lied again about the reality of this place.
I feel his gentle grasp on my arm as he oversees the landscape.
We’re somewhere in the middle of the courtyard, the gates of the entrance to our left, mangled and gnarled.
Before us lies a wreckage of stone and lumber, the walls that guarded over Treach blown and battered.
The main gate beyond recognition, it can only be described as if a molten pot of ore exploded and crumpled the inside structures in pure devastation. It’s horrific.
It all feels like too much, reminding me of Hanin and my parents. The sounds of burning flesh, the crackle of wood as it’s consumed, the popping of stones cracking from the heat of blazing fire…
The Devourer slides from behind me, keeping his hand around my upper arm. He moves to the front of me, as if shielding me from the horrors.
If he only knew the sights I wish to forget. The shadows that lurk in my mind. I may be haunted by the past, but it’s helped me to sharpen my claws and file my teeth.
I sidestep him, planting my foot boldly into squelching mud, the splatter landing on our black clothes.
I won’t run from the dread of this scene. I’ve faced nightmares and hounds at my heels.
Pushing aside the fragile thoughts, I morph into what everyone’s come to expect of me—I become the warrior I’ve been forged into and walk into the frey.
I’m not the same Alora as I was when Hanin was unjustly murdered, and I’m not the same woman I was a week ago. I’ll be long dead before I return to her. I’ll be my own savior, strong enough for myself when I once was the weak girl too afraid to leave the safety of her curled form.
“See what your king does, Devourer?” I don’t slow my pace, moving through the chaotic courtyard and round an alleyway.
He turns to me, his mask fallen away. Sorrow, other things, and pain are laced within his haunted gaze as his face contorts as though I’d slapped him. “I know what the king is capable of, Alora. I don’t need more evidence of that.”
He forces a step back, putting more distance between us. His bottom lip rolls between his teeth and I wait for him to continue.
His eyes shift away as he speaks again, “These people just want to live, without being hunted. They will never deserve this treatment.”
I spin on my heel, eager to run away from this conversation, because how could he understand?
His presence follows behind me, not too close, but close enough I can feel him stalking me.
Spinning quickly on him, the rage bubbles up and I can’t help the tumble of words that spits out. “Do you see what you’ve done by siding with him? Why we call you The Devourer? Because you’ve done nothing worthy of humanity. You’ve forsaken your own people!”
My vision bleeds to a deep red, black tunneling my focus.
“You have sat there, on your privileged ass, willingly murdering us for simply wanting to carve out an existence of our own!” The tone of my voice gets louder, and I realize I’m almost yelling.
He stands there, with his mask of indifference, looking down on me, but his eyes reveal more. And it’s then that I see it, the silent rage that flames within him too.
“You have done nothing to absolve yourself of your monstrous deception. As far as I’m concerned, you’re just a bastard who could care less about the people who die every day because it’s pleasing to King Euron.
You willingly watch your people get chained and traded, forced into his majesty’s managerie and procure those of us with rarities. ”
My jaw aches from clenching my teeth as I grit out the next words.
“I would sooner kill myself than become honorless scum, like you’ve sold out to be.”
Green ire seeps from his glowing orbs and shadows peel off his skin, the dark smokey swirls thickening with each step towards me.
“You know nothing of what I am. You know nothing of what’s been taken from me, and you know nothing of what I’m forced to endure, Alora Viren.”
He’s seething, that much is clear. The scowl on his face alone paired with his lips pulled back into a sneer, but whatever shadow magic he also contains, has me questioning if I took this too far.
For the first time I actually begin to fear him. The wind whips my hair free from its plait, slapping me in my face with each billowy wave.
I step back, my defiance shrinking. He notices this small gesture and his shadows immediately dissipate and his eyes return to their normal shattered jade.
My heart thunders as I watch him prowl closer, his footfalls landing in the squelching sludge. With one last step, he towers over me. He brings his rough hand to pinch my chin, and I turn my face away, forcing him to release his grasp.
“Alora.” His soft whisper drifts down to my ear.
He slowly reaches again for my chin, as if begging me to look at him. My body hums with his touch, an electric feeling slithering from my toes to my core. I hate that he can do this to me, even when I’m angry.
“Alora,” the plea comes softer this time, “please look at me, you goddess of wrath.”
He steps even closer and wraps his arms around me, encircling me with his muscular frame. Even if I wanted to escape, I couldn’t.
“I need you to know you’re safe. That I would never willingly harm you. You may drive me mad, but damnit, you’re safe.” His lips meet the top of my head in a delicate kiss.
My body relaxes, the truth of his confession known to my soul. It almost melts me as it’s exactly what my bitter soul needs.
“I can’t help but feel the need to throttle you, but it’s also painfully annoying how much I want to kiss you.” I say the words begrudgingly. If he wants truths, he’ll have them. I’ve got nothing else to lose.
I sigh. “Why do I desire you while also hating you?” I lift my head to see his eyes, to see if they’ll reveal anything at all.
The ire in his gaze is gone, replaced with the warmth I’ve come to recognize. “I’m not sure, little warrior, but I wish you didn’t.”
There’s so much that needs to be said between us but I’m too cowardly to admit the words.
Melancholy fills the mossy orbs, and they grow distant. In another life, another time, we could have all the moments in the world. For now, we only have these few seconds hidden away in tragedy.
“Kassiel, I’m not sure what’s happening,” I begin, “one minute I want you and the next I’d rather you walk off a pier into the sea.”
He drops another soft kiss, this time on my forehead.
His rough fingers brush my hair back from my sweaty face.
“Any moment with you I consider a blessing from the goddess, whether you’re wanting to kill me or not. That almost makes me want you more, to be honest. You look ravenous when you’re angry.”
My cheeks burn with his admission, though it doesn’t compare to the way they flame with what I’m about to reveal.
“One moment you’re my enemy. Someone I’m supposed to loathe, to kill. And then the next moment you’re more than anything I’d imagined. More than the hate, the hurt, the ache I feel. You’re becoming the very breath I desperately want to inhale after kissing your treacherous lips.”
A smolder forms in the way he watches me and my head begins to lighten.
Like I can’t get enough air, like I’m drowning in whatever angst filled war this is between him and I.
“Kassiel…” It comes out as a plea.
Unexpectedly, a wail comes from behind us. I quickly pull away from him, worried that the village may be under attack again.
His head snaps in the direction of the cry, acutely aware of the sound as well.
“Stay here, Alora. If there are soldiers of King Euron’s, I want you out of harm’s way.”
His rushed words are tinged with worry.
“I won’t stand idly by if innocent people are suffering.”
He glances behind his shoulder, studying me.
“Stay behind me.” He pulls my hand behind him and we’re off towards the end of the alley.
We walk quickly and quietly, trying our best to sneak up on the sorrowful cries and I quickly pull my dagger out, ready for a fight.
What I see next has my stomach almost hurling up the contents from my last meal. It’s all I can do to swallow down the bile that threatens to purge from my system.
A willowy woman wrapped in a worn blanket has sunk to her knees, cradling a small mangled frame of a boy, no older than twelve.
A sight that will haunt me more than the phantoms of the Siltar Woods.
Kassiel edges in closer, kneeling next to the woman, paying no attention to the filth that stains his trousers.
The scene is unfortunately clear, smeared by the dark images in front of me.
A boy, trampled over by a horse, his little form too delicate for such big creatures.
“What happened?” In a hushed whisper he asks the woman who chokes on her own sobs.