by Emily Inskip
“That was a bad aim,” she chided, the ghost of a smile on her lips. “I suppose you’ve forgotten how to throw after centuries of having your minions do everything for you.”
She didn’t let him respond before flinging the blade back. It sliced through the air, twirling before perfectly burying itself between his legs.
“Oops,” she shrugged as he wailed, his strangled cries ripping through the night.
He dropped to his knees, collapsing in agony. Amara could no longer stop the urge to grin. Smoothly, she strode up to him, hips swishing from side to side. Amara gently reached out a hand and brushed his long dark hair back out of his face. Fassar’s eyes were still clouded with darkness as he let out a sob.
“Hush, now, “ Amara soothed, cupping him behind the head.
A dark shadow flashed across her face and her fingers suddenly curled tightly into his hair, ripping at his scalp. Fassar could barely struggle as she tilted his head back slowly.
“See you in hell,” Amara whispered and shoved the firebirch stake into his heart.
Screams erupted as he began to thrash wildly against her but she only pushed it further and further, deeper into his chest.
The surrounding Valkrane had frozen, watching silently as Fassar, their ancient leader, burst into flames.
Amara staggered backwards as his shrieks grew louder, the flames growing brighter. The scent of singed flesh bathed the air but Amara savoured it, eyes drawn like magnets to his burning body. She stared and stared as he slowly broke down, embers and ash flaking from his face. His leather gloves burnt away, revealing charred flesh and blackened nails. His dying scream pierced her eardrums but she didn’t care. She wanted to dance to the sound.
Amara watched until there was no more screaming, until silence settled and the flames guttered, leaving only a pile of ashes in the grass.
Amara gazed for a little longer before turning to the remaining Valkrane.
They gaped at her in pure shock, their faces ashen, drained of blood. Slowly, they began backing away, preparing to flee, never to be seen again.
“I don’t think so,” a voice came from the shadows.
Elias stepped from the treeline, right into the path of the retreating vampires. They halted in fear as Elias flashed them a smile that promised only death.
He met her eye from across the clearing, a mixture of sadness and hope there. “Go,” he said. “You’ll find them in your chambers. I can take care of this.”
Amara’s heart began to ache as she watched him catch a glimpse of the remains of his father. But she gave him a grateful nod before taking off, sprinting through the forest.
New screams erupted from behind her, but Amara didn’t turn back. Didn’t dare to. As she closed her eyes, she could still see Fassar’s burning corpse, still hear his wretched cries as he took his dying breaths. But she savoured the memory, the fire and the dancing light.
Amara had finally found her way out of the darkness, the smothering blackness that had hung over her life for so long. She had fought for the better world, for the light she so wished to see. And she had indeed brought the light. She had brought an inferno. And those flames would live within her now and for whatever time she had left in this world.
Amara tilted her head back and gazed up at the moon through the lattice of branches above her. It had already begun to shrink, its crimson light draining, shifting back to a lustrous silver. As she broke through the treeline, making her way back towards the castle, Amara bathed in its new light, feeling the mountain breeze brush over her, weaving through her hair. She let the moonlight purge the shadows. Let the cool air rush into her lungs one last time and braced herself her new life. A better life and the world she knew would come along with it.
42
She had stayed with Nadia and Fenn for the rest of the night, offering whatever help she could.
They didn’t wake as she tucked them beneath the sheets of her bed, gently resting their heads upon the silken feather-stuffed cushions. Amara had cleaned them up, bound their injuries, done anything she thought would help as they slept off their wounds. From the doorway of her bedroom, she watched them silently, their exhausted faces soft with sleep.
Amara hadn’t been able to rest, so she only leant against the door frame, guarding, protecting, watching.
Most of her own wounds had healed by themselves. But she’d spent ages scrubbing her blood-soaked hands, removing the crescents of red beneath her nails, washing the ash from her face with warm water until she no longer felt dirty anymore. Till she no longer felt wrong.
She hadn’t heard from Elias again, but she knew by the silence outside that he had done his job. She only prayed that he’d managed to clean up the forest with the same amount of success he’d had when he killed that first beast nights ago.
By now, all the Bloodmoon revellers and royals were back in their beds, exhausted from the night’s celebrations. Amara had heard them return a few hours ago, drunken laughter and excited chatter filling the corridors of Winvaris as they made their way back to their rooms.
Amara wondering whether she should be celebrating, herself. But her body was too tired, aching in places she hadn’t known existed. Even as she folded her arms now, her muscles were sore and tender. There was a constant throbbing at her temples from where Fassar had beaten her, but she ignored it. That was all temporary. And she could deal with temporary. Because despite the odds, she had won. She had weathered the Bloodmoon’s power and come out of it standing. She had cared too much, but that didn’t make it a weakness.
A small laugh escaped her.
She had done it. She had really killed Fassar Valkrane and lived to tell the tale. But none of that would have been possible without the help of the people in this room.
Her smile grew as she looked from Fenn to Nadia. They were her people, her friends and family. Those she loved above all else. If she was grateful for anything in this world it would be them. And she would never take it for granted. Not for a second.
Warm orange light began to spill through the windows. Amara flicked her gaze to the sunrise in the distance, peeking over the horizon. Instinctively, her hand came up to touch the suncharm around her neck. The large amber stone pulsed beneath her fingertips in answer. But as she watched the sun wash over the mountain peaks and the city nestled in between, Amara couldn’t help but think about the person who had given it to her. Couldn’t shake the memory of his hands around her waist, his lips on hers.
Amara took one last look at her brother and Nadia sleeping peacefully and made her way out of the room.
There was one last thing she had to do before the night was done.
43
The two grim-faced guards from before barely batted an eye as Amara strode up to the Prince’s door and knocked once. Twice.
Amara wasn’t sure if he would be awake at this time in the morning, but if she knew Aedric at all, she knew he wouldn’t be able to resist a sunrise like the one now. The promise of a new day, a slate wiped clean.
Sure enough, her ears pricked at the sound of movement behind the door. In moments, it creaked open to reveal Aedric stood on the other side, golden hair tousled, white tunic exposing the top of his tanned chest.
Amara sucked in a breath, trying not to stare for too long. As his eyes met hers, his face immediately broke into a smile.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?” his low, gravelly voice rumbled.
Amara only grinned back and he stepped to the side, allowing her in. She knew what the guards were probably thinking but she didn’t care. Let them believe what they wanted. After all, she knew what she wanted.
As Aedric closed the door, Amara couldn’t wait any longer. She had him pushed up against the wall in a heartbeat. Their breaths were ragged as she kissed him. It was nothing like the kiss they had shared on the balcony during Whistlethyme. It was more desperate this time. Hungry.
Her hands slid from his broad shoulders, running down the planes of his chest, skimming over
the ripples of honed muscle and then back up again. A low groan escaped his lips as he wrapped his arms around her waist, lower. He slipped his hands beneath her thighs before lifting her up. Amara locked her legs around him as he carried her to the bed, gently placing her back down onto the mattress.
She smirked up at him, propping herself on her elbows as he slowly lowered down to meet her lips. His kisses migrated as he buried his head into the crook of her neck. Amara’s back arched off the sheets, savouring his warmth, the hand he gripped her hip with, drawing slow circles there with his thumb. Gently, he began to place kisses down the column of her neck, across her collar bone. Her eyes fell shut as he moved lower.
“Wait,” she breathed, barely able to form words. “Stop.”
Aedric looked up quickly, concern already flooding his face. “Why?” his voice was equally as rasped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to rush you, I—”
“Shhh,” Amara smiled softly, interrupting him. She pressed a slender finger to his lips. “We’re going to miss the sunrise.”
Her eyes slid to the golden light beginning to seep in beneath his curtains.
Aedric’s smile was just as bright. “We mustn’t have that.”
He pressed one last gentle kiss to her forehead before easing off the bed. Amara took his hand as he helped her to her feet and led her towards his own royal balcony.
Amara had to squint as she stepped outside, focusing on the red-orange smudge that began to leak over the horizon. They walked together to the railings, the late-spring breeze surprisingly warm as it brushed their skin. Aedric was silent as he pulled her into his chest, resting his chin atop her head. She savoured his scent of smoke and pine as it encased her, almost as much as she savoured the light spilling into the sky. It gilded the mountain peaks, making the dusting of snow on top glow and shimmer with light.
Below, Valmont was beginning to come alive. Smoke from tiny wood burners inside the thatched terraces began to snake into the air. Lights began to glow through leaded windows and markets began to set up stalls in the cobbled squares that would soon become packed with bustling people by noon.
Amara tightened her arms around Aedric, nestling further into his chest.
She knew she had questions to ask him. Too many to count. Amara was still unsure of what to do about the King of Esteria. The undead king of Esteria, she supposed. But what Amara did know, was that some secrets were meant to remain buried. And that when they were, there was usually a good reason for it.
There was always going to be time to ask questions in the future. Now that she knew they would have one. Now that Fassar Valkrane had been slayed and the dark magic had been put to rest.
She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so free. The invisible shackles had come off. She didn’t need to run anymore, didn’t need to always be looking over her shoulder. Sure, there would always be other monsters in this world, vampires and humans alike. But she could face them knowing that she was no one’s slave anymore. She no longer had to stay hidden in the shadows. She answered to no one.
Amara smiled as the new sun spread over her face, rising up above the clouds and the dew-glazed foothills. Aedric’s hand rubbed gently at the base of her back, his fingertips drawing lazy circles through the material of her clothing.
So yes, the Prince and his family may have their secrets. But that, she could deal with. After all, she had those of her own that she was not yet ready to tell. For starters, Aedric still didn’t know her true identity. But that would all be revealed when the time was right. When she was ready to finally let go of her barriers. Truly allow someone in. And she knew that it would be possible now . . . one day soon.
Amara didn’t know what the future would hold, but she knew that there would be one. And she knew that it would be better. She knew it would be brighter than anything she’d ever seen before. And when she did eventually run out of this borrowed time, the extended life that had been given to her, she could die knowing that she’d had a hand in making this better world.
And that this, this was only the beginning.
