CHAPTER 2 - SCENT OF BERRIES AND BLOOD - TRISTAINS POV
2291 Words
I stepped through the iron gate, my boots crunching over salt-crusted stone as I walked into the prison, Nethergarth. This wasn't just a prison. It was Hell's mouth, carved into the side of the Kracon Cliffs, where the sky never lightened and the moon always bled. The worst of the worst clawed their way through existence here. Murderers who'd slit children's throats for sport. Warlocks who'd cursed entire bloodlines into madness. And Dragons, ancient, broken things chained in the deepest pits, breathing fire into their own cages.
I was here for one of them.
"Prince Tristan," Barked Head Guard, Troll Mikal, falling in step beside me. His breath fogged in the cold, his armor screeching with every movement. "We have the prisoner ready in the integration room, but you really should join us for breakfast first.''
"I’m not here for breakfast," I said, hand resting on the hilt of my silver-edged blade. "I’m here for Draven."
Mikal flinched. "The Dragon is dying, sire. Has been for weeks. Barely speaks. Barely breathes fire. I think he's letting his inner fire go out, so he can die quickly."
"Then I'll speak to him quickly, before his last breath." I pointed out, ''Has my brother already arrived?''
''Yes, sire. He's interrogating a few of the prisoners.''
We descended into the bowels of Nethergarth, rusted elevators groaning like dying beasts, corridors slick with condensation and something darker. The scent of damp fur, rotting meat, and power, twisted, feral magic, clung to the walls. My Lycan, Max twitched beneath my skin. He had been unsettled all morning, as if something was coming. Something big, but I ignored him, I had a task from our adopted father, the King, and it was my focus right now.
We reached the final cell. A cavernous chamber, lit by torches with green flame. There he was, Draven, the last of the Crimson Scale Thunder, lying in chains. His body was massive, even in decay, scales flaking like old paint, wings torn and folded against the stone. One golden eye cracked open as I approached.
''Prince…'' His voice was gravel and thunder. ''You came.''
''I need answers,'' I said, crouching before him. ''Who is killing King Dwayne's guards?''
He coughed. Smoke curled from between his teeth. ''Not who… what.''
My pulse thudded. Max stirred, ears pricked.
''The Sovereign,'' Draven rasped. ''Alpha Lycan Alpha, who wears an iron mask, black iron. There's rumors that he's terribly disfigured. He never speaks unless it's to his Beta. Never removes it. Kills like winter, silent, inevitable.''
I swallowed. ''And his Beta?'
''Jayden.'' A pained laugh.
''What does this Jayden look like?''
''I'm not answering any more questions until you give me what you promised.''
I exhaled angrily, ''The Thunder that destroyed yours has been wiped out. Now answer my questions. What does he look like?''
''Short black hair, blue eyes, a long scar down his right arm, and a tattoo of a...'' He shrugged, his wings shifting in their chains. His breath hitched.
''Draven?''
No answer. The great chest stilled. The last Dragon of the Crimson Scale was gone.
''DAMN IT!'' I shouted angrily and punched the wall. I should have come sooner!
I stood slowly, numb. Mikal placed a hand on my shoulder. ''Sire...''
''Save it. Just burn his body.'' I ordered and walked out with him following me.
We headed towards the exit, when I smelled it.
Berries. And tea. Sweet, warm, impossible in this place of decay.
''Sire. Is something wrong?''
Max howled in my mind. MATE! I didn't think. I moved.
I shoved past Mikal, sprinting down the corridor, boots echoing off the stone. The scent sharpened, ripe blackberries crushed underfoot, chamomile steeped in honey. And beneath it, the metallic tang of blood. Her blood. She was injured, and badly!
''Is she a prisoner?'' Max panicked.
''I don't know, but I'm getting her out no matter what!''
I turned down a corridor, and at the end of the hall I saw dark black hair as a door snapped shut.
I skidded to a halt. My breath came in short, sharp bursts. Max snarled, She's in there. Our mate. Now.
"Prince Tristan!" Mikal shouted. "That's a restricted sector! The prisoner in there is extremely dangerous! You can't..."
I slammed through the door.
The room was small, windowless, used for interrogations, by the look of the chains and bloodstains on the floor. Torchlight flickered over cracked stone.
And then I saw her.
Hanging from the ceiling by her wrists, suspended in silence. Her arms limp, head lolling. Long, dark hair draped over her face like a veil. Her shirt, what remained of it, was ripped open down the back, sliced through like a predator had claimed her. Ropes of dried blood trickled from her shoulders to the floor.
And at her feet, a dead guard, eyes wide, throat torn out. His own dagger buried in his chest.
I lunged forward. ''GET HER DOWN!''
Mikal burst in behind me. ''Your Majesty, what in the..'' He rushed over to the guard to check on him, but I grabbed his arm and ripped him up.
''I SAID GET MY MATE DOWN!'' I roared, my voice cracking with command and something deeper, more primal. My Lycan surged in my veins, muscles coiling, fangs pressing at my gums.
Mikal's eyes widened. ''Your... Mate?'' He whispered, sounding terrified, ''She can't be. This woman is...''
''IS MINE!'' I shouted and ripped at one of the chains, ''DON'T MAKE ME TELL YOU AGAIN!''
In seconds, we'd severed the chains. She collapsed, but I caught her, cradling her body against my chest. She was light. Too light. Her skin was cold, bruises blooming along her collarbone like storm clouds.
But her scent, Goddess, her scent wrapped around me like a prayer. Berries and tea. Warmth. Safety. Home.
I turned sharply. ''Take me to the infirmary. Now.''
''Yes, sir,'' Mikal stammered, already moving ahead to clear the way.
We raced through the dungeon halls, my arms locked around her. Every breath she took was shallow, every heartbeat weak beneath my palm. I pressed my nose into her hair, inhaling, Mate, Mate, Mate. Max whispering it like a mantra.
I linked with Tyrian through the twin bond we'd shared since birth.
''Tyrian!''
''What?'' His voice echoed in my mind, sharp with irritation. ''I'm in the middle of...''
''Shut up! I found her.''
Silence.
''Found who''
''Our mate?''
''Yes. She's hurt. I'm taking her to the infirmary. Get there. Now.''
''Are you sure?''
''YES!'' I severed the connection before he could question me again.
The infirmary was a single room, a relic from a time when Nethergarth cared about healing. Now, it was little more than a slab of stone with a few rusted tools and a cot covered in stained linen. The only doctor was a wiry, balding Fae man named Corvin, his fingers stained with ink and antiseptic.
''She needs treatment,'' I snapped, laying her gently on the cot.
Corvin approached, eyes scanning her injuries. ''Burns on her wrists. Lacerations on her back. Possible internal trauma. I'll need to remove her shirt''
''No,'' I growled. ''MINE!''
He blinked. ''Sire?''
''I want a female healer.''
''There are no female healers here, Prince. Nethergarth doesn't allow them. Corvin's the only one.''
I clenched my jaw. Max paced inside me, furious. ''No male touches her. No one but us.''
''But she needed care. Now.'' I argued.
''Fine,'' I ground out. ''But I do it. Mikal, get out!''
Corvin nodded quickly and stepped back.
I turned to her. Gently, so gently, I peeled the remnants of her shirt away. Her skin was pale, marred by angry red welts and deep cuts across her shoulder blades. Blood had dried in clots.
Then I saw it.
On her left shoulder, just above her heart, was a mark.
Not a wound.
A brand.
A wolf’s head, sleek, fierce, eyes open and snarling. Not carved into her skin, but there from birth.
My breath stopped.
It was the mark of the Lost Princess, the daughter of King Dwayne's blood, stolen the night her mother was killed. For years the King thought his daughter had died too, but when he couldn't have a male child with his chosen mate, he knew she'd survived and had been looking for her ever since. T
I looked up just as Tyrian burst through the door, his chest heaving, clothes splattered with interrogation blood. His eyes locked onto me, then the girl.
''What.. Mate...'' He began, voice cracking.
I met his gaze. ''It's her, and not just that. She's Dwayne's daughter.''
His breath hitched.
''No,'' He whispered. ''That's impossible.''
''She has the mark, Ty. The wolf's head.''
Tyrian stepped forward, trembling. He reached out, but stopped just short of touching her face. ''She's… beautiful.''
''She's ours,'' I growled, stepping between them. My Lycan roared in approval. Mate. Blood. Forever. ''She needs healing,'' I said, voice low. ''Now.''
Corvin stepped forward again, but my brother growled.
''No. I want a female doctor.''
''We've been over this already,'' I informed him, ''He's the only option.''
''Fine,'' He snarled.
''I can treat her wounds, but she's lost a lot of blood. She'll need rest. And… something to ground her when she wakes. Emotionally.''
I looked down at her, her lips parted slightly, her chest rising in faint, fragile rhythm.
''She'll have us,'' I said. ''We'll be that something.''
Tyrian nodded, eyes dark with fury and longing. ''I want her checked for... See if she's been raped.''
My heart twisted in pain. That hadn't crossed my mind. I looked down at her body, and brushed a strand of hair from the princess's face. So soft. So alive.
''If she has been. Every guards who's been near her is dead,'' I told my twin, who nodded.
We watched as the doctor healed her injuries, while we both paced around making plans. We had to get her home. We had to tell the King she was alive. We needed her safe.
''Why was she sent here?'' My brother asked the doctor.
''Who cares?'' I asked him, ''Even if she killed every pack in the country, I'm accepting her!''
''I don't care why, I just want to know why.'' He shot back.
''She killed an Alpha and his family,'' The Fae answered.
''Why?'' I asked, curiously as I stared at her face again.
''She wouldn't say, not even when she was tortured, the girl's strong.'' Corvin told us as his glowing hands moved along her body, making me want to rip his throat out for touching her skin!
''She's an Alpha.'' My brother told him, and he frowned, before looking up at us.
''Well, that explains a lot.'' He nodded to himself. ''She's been... Oh... She's awake.''
''Realy?''
My brother and I rushed to her side, as her eyes opened, and she looked from my face to Tyrians. Her eyes widened and she shook her head.
''No...'' She gasped and tried to get up, but my brother and I held her down.
''Darling, don't be afraid,'' I hushed her, ''We will never hurt you. You're free now. We're going to take you home.''
''Home?'' She asked, sounding confused.
''Do you know who you are?'' Tyrian asked her, but she shook her head.
''You're Freya Connor,'' I told her, ''The lost Alpha princess, and the heir to the Lycan Kingdom.''
She frowned, ''No. I can't be.''
''You are.'' My brother touched her face, ''You're dads lost daughter, and we're your mates.''
''If you accept us.'' I added quickly. ''We accept you.''
''Perhaps we should let the Princess rest before you dump all of this on her,'' Corvin suggested. ''She is still healing after all.''
''Of course,'' I said quickly, ''We can talk once we get you out of here. We'll stay in the inn near the prison tonight and take you home to the capital tomorrow. It's a two week journey. We'll have a lot of time to get to know one another then.''
She nodded, but looked wearily from me to Tryrian again, before mouthing, ''Twins.'' Making us smile.
''What's your Lycans name?'' Tyrian asked, ''Mine is Neo and Tristan's is Max. Oh, Goddess, and I'm Tyrian.''
''Nala,'' She answered, but then she cringed and grabbed Corvins hand faster then I'd ever seen anyone more. Even the King. ''THAT HURT!''
I stared at her in surprise before gently taking her hand, ''He's just healing you. Please let him do his job.''
''His job,'' She snarled, ''Was he doing his job when he stood back and watched them break both my arms.''
''WHAT?!'' Tyrian snarled, his eyes darkening.
''She was a prisoner who killed an entire Alpha line. She was being punished.''
''They deserved to die!'' She said angrily. ''They were trafficking children to be used in the fighting games.''
''The games were destroyed years ago.'' I pointed out.
''I know. I'm the one who stopped them,'' She told us, and my eyes widened in surprise again.
''You're the one who burned the arena down and killed the guards?'' My brother asked her.
''Yes. I've been held hostage by them for years and forced to fight. But I led a rebellion to put an end to it, seeing as you're King failed to help us,'' She said angrily, her eyes darkening once more, ''And Alpha Dax was trying to start them up again. Something I told the guards, but they didn't listen.''
''Well, we're listening,'' I told her and touched her cheek.
''Only because we're mates. If I wasn't, you'd be torturing me too.''
''We wouldn't,'' Tyrian argued, but she just glared at us and laid back down.
''Let's talk about this later,'' I ordered, ''Just let the doctor heal you so we can leave.''
She didn't say anything. She just closed her eyes.
- Writer
