by Emily Inskip
Still, Amara covered her face with her hands and began to count.
20
Amara hadn’t been counting for more than a few seconds before the whole thing grew rather tedious. But she had learnt throughout the years that when a game became boring. Cheat.
She missed out every other number, quickly tapping her foot to the rhythm. No wonder everyone in the castle hated Enid’s games.
If she’d have known, perhaps Amara would have used Aedric’s poor excuse of having ‘grown-up business’ to attend to, as well.
But Amara was so close to thirty now, she may as well see it through.
“. . . Twenty-five . . .” she called, her hands still cupping her eyes. “. . . Twenty-nine . . .”
Relief was not a strong enough word to use as Amara finally yelled thirty and hastily removed her hands.
“Boo.”
She flinched at the cool breath against her face and the figure of a man standing before her. She blinked fast, squinting against the sun.
Elias was but inches away, wicked delight sparking his features. “You look like you’re enjoying yourself, Amara darling,” he grinned, raising a brow.
What I’d enjoy is choking you slowly.
But Amara didn’t bother to say anything before launching into a walk down the gravel path, Elias on her heels.
She didn’t really want to lead him towards Enid. In fact, Amara surprised herself by the strange feeling of protectiveness she now had for that girl.
“I’ve come to ask if you’ve thought about what I said last night.”
“The answer is no,” she snapped.
Amara didn’t need to turn around to know that he was glaring at her now. She could sense his gaze on her back like two cool chips of ice.
“Amara, you can ignore me all you like, but right now the Bloodmoon is your only option if you want to survive.”
“And if you want to survive, I’d suggest you leave me alone.”
She gritted her teeth as she pushed forwards through the trees. Even Elias struggled to keep up. But she knew it was just for show. A cat playing with its food.
He laughed, shoving his hands into his pockets and slowing to a stop. He’d abandoned his pursuit, lingering in the tree line as Amara continued on, not looking back.
There was silence for a while after that and for a split-second, she’d thought that had been the end of it. But, of course, she was a fool.
Before she had a chance to blink, he was in front of her, grinning. Goddamned Valkrane.
“We both know you wouldn’t kill me, my love. You’d miss me too much,” he said.
Amara couldn’t stand to watch him smile. Everything about Elias reminded her of his father. The face that ruled her nightmares.
But if Amara was worried, she didn’t let on, only tilting her head to one side. “And how much are you willing to bet on that?”
Beneath his raven-dark cloak, Amara could just catch a glimpse of the slim firebirch stake sheathed around his waist. Every so often, the wind would blow, revealing the pale wooden shaft, glinting in the sunlight.
One flick of his wrist and she would be dead. Reduced to no more than ashes. But only if he moved first.
Amara couldn’t afford to think before she lunged forward and slipped the stake from his waist. She knew by the flash of panic in Elias’ eyes that he hadn’t expected it. He hadn’t even bothered to guard it. Well, who was the fool now? Because she wasn’t the defenceless servant girl he fell in love with two centuries ago. No.
She was a killer.
“Amara . . .” he eased as she gripped the stake and angled it towards him. “You don’t want to do this.”
“Oh, I think I really do.” She smiled a little as she began to draw lazy circles over his heart. The tip of the stake snagged on the material of his tunic making his breath hitch. She laughed.
“Amara, you kill me and—”
“And what, exactly? Oh please do enlighten me, Elias.” She was enjoying this far too much.
This was the man that had taken everything from her. Her life, her soul, everything that she was and hoped to be.
Now it was her turn to take it back.
Amara could see the darkness flickering behind his eyes. Those eyes that she had never forgotten. Green and hazel. Like the ground she would bury him beneath before the day was through.
His throat bobbed as he looked down at the wood jabbed against him. His voice was weak. “Please Amara, I came to help you. All I’ve ever wanted to do is help you.”
“Save the dramatics for someone who cares,” Amara grinned. “Oh wait, you can’t. Because you’ll be dead.”
Despite it all, Elias didn’t drop his preternatural stillness or calm. “Amara—”
Slowly, she increased the pressure as the wood gradually buried itself into his flesh.
He grunted but didn’t struggle. Amara frowned.
He didn’t believe she would do it. Well, she best prove him wrong then.
Amara gritted her teeth, preparing to finish him, to watch the life drain from his eyes when she froze.
“You feel it too?” Elias asked, his voice shaky with pain.
Amara pulled away with a growl. Elias gasped, stumbling backwards as he clutched his heart.
“What is it?” she demanded. For that overwhelming presence of evil had returned. It probed her, made her gut lurch and skin prick.
As if by command, the skies darkened again, clouds forming a suffocating blanket to block out the sun.
But there was no time for panic.
Amara tried to search Elias’ eyes for the answer but his face had grown pallid, all the blood drained from his lips.
His mouth quivered slightly. “I—”
A strangled howl tore through the forest, so loud Amara was forced to cover her ears. Another jarring shriek had Amara turning. Her head whipped towards the bushes. The grass was an undulating sea beneath her. Mountain winds surged through the trees, blasting away the newly budded leaves until the canopy of branches were bare. A whirlwind of twigs and brambles swept through the garden. Amara narrowly missed a flying rock aimed for her head. It skimmed passed her face, leaving a delicate cut across her cheek.
“Amara, we need to run,” Elias yelled from behind her, his voice quickly drowned out by another shattering howl.
She felt his hand grip hers, tugging her back.
But Amara’s attention didn’t fall from the shadows of the hedges, her body shaking with unrestrained adrenaline. It rushed through her veins, her senses flaring. She allowed Elias to drag her back a few steps before she whirled to face him.
“No,” she whispered.
Elias scrunched his brow, but before he had time to reply, Amara was already gone, slipping through the hedgerows like a tendril of smoke.
“Leave the girl,” he called after her, but Amara ignored it, focusing on nothing but the ground ahead of her, rushing beneath her feet like a blur of darkness.
She needed to find Enid. Now.
Whatever was out there was dangerous beyond levels she knew. It’s screams and whines rattled through the woodlands, a warning call to any living creature. Leave or die. But Amara kept going.
A premature dusk had fallen, coating the castle gardens in an eerie darkness even Amara wasn’t comfortable in. Shadows caught her vision from the left, making her turn only to find a fallen branch swing into view. She ducked, her pace not faltering as she dropped and rolled across the leaf-covered soil. Amara was up in seconds barrelling through the dense mesh of trees.
Focus. She needed to focus. Past the vicious winds and chilling howls, Amara needed to focus on one thing. A heartbeat. A single delicate rhythm above the din of havoc. A cacophony fuelled by whatever evil now roamed these gardens. An evil Amara was sure to face if she continued running.
She was relying on a reckless gamble, and the odds were not stacking up.
Damn the odds.
Amara veered right, skidding over the face of a boulder. The fricti
on of the rock burnt into her palm. But she didn’t waver. Her dress tore as she rushed past a line of brambles, the fabric of her skirt fraying to ribbons. No time. There was no time.
“Enid,” Amara called above the clamour of wind.
There was no reply. Not even a flutter of a heartbeat. No no no no no . . .
Amara crouched down, her eyes clamped shut as she cradled her head in her arms. Where are you, stupid child?
She tried to mute the world. To strip it all back, ignoring every snapping branch, every gust and wail, every crunching footstep. Until she was left alone in a void of nothingness.
Around her, debris tumbled through the darkened air, but she didn’t bother to look. Her eyes remained closed, her brow furrowed in concentration, her breath ragged.
And then she felt it.
In the distance, a small patter of noise drifted towards her. But that was all she needed.
Amara had already launched into a sprint. She hurtled like a midnight storm through the darkness. A darkness that she wasn’t hindered by. In fact, it was quite the opposite.
She had never seen so clearly what she had to do.
Purpose. For the first time, she had a purpose. Not for herself, but for someone else. For Enid.
It only fuelled her muscles, her arms pumping at such a speed they were a blur around her.
Just a few more steps . . .
There was another scream that shook through the trees. But this time, it didn’t come from a monster. It came from a girl.
Enid.
Amara was there in an instant, mind pounding as she burst through the treeline.
She only had a second to understand the situation. To grasp what was going on, and how the hell she was getting out alive.
In the middle of the clearing, Enid was huddled on the ground, her red hair a storm of its own, whipping across her face. Even from the distance, Amara could see the tears streaming down the child’s cheeks, pure, undiluted fear in her eyes.
It didn’t take Amara long to realise what she was screaming at. Across the clearing was a creature that even had Amara Vanderlore wishing she’d prayed to the gods.
She hadn’t seen anything like it. With a body of a bear, tufts of fur were missing, and what little it did have was matted with blood against its withered flesh. Blackened claws curled beneath its feet as it rested back on its haunches. A growl ripped through the air making Enid yelp, scooting backwards along the ground. Gods, Amara could smell its rancid breath like a high dose of poison.
This wasn’t right. Creatures like these weren’t supposed to exist. She was meant to be the deadliest monster out there. Well, it seemed she had some competition.
The creature reared up on its hind legs, it’s maw dripping with . . . Amara didn’t want to think of what that black slime could be.
But she didn’t have time for shock, or fear or whatever giddiness now lit her heart as she marvelled at the beast. Suddenly she didn’t seem so monstrous, after all.
“Help me,” Enid cried desperately. It was only a small noise, but it was enough to bring Amara back to reality. Gods, they were all going to die.
In a heartbeat, she tore across the clearing, one eye on Enid, the other on the snarling beast threatening to attack any moment. “Get behind me.”
Amara had never been the hero. She didn’t know what to do, she only really knew one thing. How to protect herself. But now she had to change the rules.
Enid struggled to her feet but let out a small grunt. “My ankle . . . I’ve hurt my ankle.”
Amara was half-listening, half focused on the monster. She couldn’t resist staring. From this angle, she noticed it had the dark face of a bull, gigantic horns curving around like a barbed cage over its head. She blinked at the creature. It really was horrific. Horrific and wonderful.
She couldn’t help but grin.
“Lady,” Enid whined, tugging at Amara’s dress—or what was left of it after running through the forest.
“Right,” she breathed, slowly backing away from the beast and pulling Enid with her. “You need to listen to me very carefully. I’m going to pick you up, and on the count of three we are going to run, okay?”
It wasn’t much of a plan, but right now all Amara cared about was surviving.
Luckily, that sort of thing was in her skill set. And she was sure as hell good at it.
Carefully, she swept Enid’s trembling body into her arms. She held her close to her chest, grateful for just how small the princess was. Not that her weight would be much of a problem. It just meant she could put more of her energy into running. Fast.
“One,” Amara began calmly, continuing to retreat towards the treeline. “Two.”
The beast flared its nostrils, its eyes of pure ebony narrowed as it watched them move. Amara knew what was coming. She braced herself for it.
“Three,” she yelled and the monster pounced.
It was fast. But she was faster.
Amara was already plunging through the forest. She didn’t have time to glance back over her shoulder, but the terrible shriek it released was enough indication of what was going on behind her.
Enid had buried her face into Amara’s shoulder, clutching her tightly as they sped forwards. They blended into the shadows beneath the canopy of bare branches. Amara wasn’t sure where she was going, all she knew was she couldn’t stop. Not until it was safe and she had personally buried that beast under the ground.
Why had none of the guards taken action? There must have been around fifty stationed out there the last time Amara checked. So why were none of them already trying to kill this thing?
A blast of wind sent branches and debris flying towards them. Amara twisted just in time, shielding Enid from the brunt of the force. She grunted as the stones whacked into her, tearing through her bare skin. But Amara pushed on through the darkness, through the flicker of pain before it vanished once more.
The beast was close behind, and gaining on them at a rate Amara wasn’t comfortable with. She could tell solely by the strength of its revolting breath, the warmth of it pricking the back of her neck.
Quicker. She needed to move quicker.
Amara ducked, narrowly avoiding its snapping jaws as it lunged forwards. She didn’t have time to think as she careened right, Enid’s whimpering filling her ears, spurring her on.
But there was no denying the simple fact that Amara didn’t know what to do. If she could just make it back to the castle . . . maybe they would survive it. But which way was it? The trees were too tall to see over. Not even the looming form of Winvaris was visible between the mesh of branches above.
Another bone-shattering crack came from behind her, the sound of grinding teeth and vicious panting.
It was enough to make Amara spare a quick look behind her. Gods, it was closer than she’d thought. It was hard not to shudder as she took in its foul face, the horns twisting at lethal angles, ready to strike.
“Amara,” Enid cried.
She whipped her head back just in time to stop herself barrelling into a brick wall that marked the garden’s perimeter. Dead end. Shit. Shit.
This was it. Amara was out of ideas and the creature was already there, snarling as it slowly prowled towards them.
“I’m sorry,” Amara whispered into Enid’s hair before setting her down and turning to face the beast.
If she was going to go down, it wouldn’t be without a fight. Amara hadn’t survived two centuries for it to end like this. She hadn’t survived unforgiving torment and countless run-ins with death for this.
She would never yield.
The creature let out a wild screech, mucus stringing from its gaping maw. Amara fell into a defensive stance, hands balled into fists, readying herself for the first strike.
When it growled again, she growled back. It was more vicious than anything the beast was capable of.
She could have sworn it blinked in confusion. Amara barked a laugh. Stupid puppy.
But nothing could hi
de the fear that shook through her. Was this what it was like to stare into the face of death?
Yet Amara knew from experience that the worst kind of monsters didn’t look like monsters at all.
The beast dug its claws into the soil, leaning back on its haunches and releasing a deathly snarl. She braced herself.
“Amara.” Enid was crying now, curled into a ball somewhere against the wall.
“Close your eyes,” Amara hissed the command. Whatever would happen next, she didn’t want the princess to see it. No one deserved that.
The image of herself, slaving over the floors of Fassar’s mansion flashed into her mind. She hadn’t looked up when he’d slaughtered those men that first time. And she had been glad of it.
A second later, the creature pounced.
“No!”
Amara barely had time to realise what had happened before she was on the ground staring wide-eyed in shock.
Like a wisp of darkness, Elias was there, tearing towards the beast like easy prey.
But just like Amara, the creature hadn’t expected it. No one would have expected a man to simply appear from the shadows. Its guard had been down, and Elias used that to his advantage, lunging onto the beast’s back. He landed into an easy crouch before flicking his wrists. Daggers snapped into his palms as though they’d been released from hidden compartments in his sleeves. Amara couldn’t resist staring as he began slicing with perfect precision. From a stranger’s position, his attacks would have seemed wild, crazed and irrational. But Amara knew nothing Elias ever did was unplanned. They were quick, effective and precise. Meant to disable any living creature, no matter the size.
The beast let out a strangled howl as blood spurted into the air.
“Leave,” he said to Amara. “Take the child and run.”
Even as he swung around the front of the monster, using its horns as a pivot, Elias still remained calm, his voice as soft as it always was.
But Amara didn’t need to be told twice.
She was on her feet again. In a heartbeat, Enid was in her arms and they were running as fast as the mountain winds could take them.
Amara only heard the rattling shrieks of the beast as it weathered the full wrath of Elias Valkrane. God help it.
