Chapter 8
1124 Words
This couldn’t be one of my nightmares anymore. It wasn’t a nightmare. It was my reality, apparently. The cold sinking into my bones made sure of that.
I trudged through the snow-drenched ground, putting as much distance as I could between myself and the court of the tattooed princes.
“Why don’t you find out, Thorne?” Rhysand’s words echoed like a dare in my mind. Was that meant to break me? Make me beg?
I was lost, yes. Shattered, maybe. But not destroyed. Not yet.
I couldn’t afford to fall apart. I had to keep moving; there was no place for me here.
Violet and Zach… Gods, they could be crying for me right now, searching every corner. They were too young for a world this cruel.
And I had to survive for them.
I need to protect them. They need me. We need each other.
That truth anchored me as I pressed forward, boots sinking into snow with every trembling step.
Maybe Rhysand had lied. Maybe the talk of trueborn princes hunting for me was just another cruel trick, one of his twisted threats meant to keep me afraid and obedient.
Because out here, there was nothing. No armies. No wolves. No death waiting behind the trees.
Only the distant mountains, cloaked in white, the purple-hued clouds above, and the enormous stars dangling breathlessly from the sapphire sky.
Sylvarra was still and strange, but not entirely cruel.
Golden lights lined the street path ahead of me, glowing softly through the night, as though the city hadn’t yet decided if it wanted me dead or alive.
I remembered my way in here. I could leave just as simply, and I didn’t care if I no longer had a home. As long as I had Violet and Zach with me, we would be fine without a kingdom.
I dug my fingers into my arms until bruises bloomed, the cold clawing at me, threatening to take my life.
Behind me, a low growl ripped through the silence, shattering every ounce of my composure. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead as I froze in place.
And it wasn’t just a sound… It was like a blast from the sky itself. Low and guttural at first, like the rumble of distant thunder, vibrating through the earth beneath my feet.
No… no… It couldn’t be one of the trueborn prince beasts?
Fear tore through me, twisting deep inside, and I couldn’t summon the courage to turn around and face whatever it was.
Don’t… look, Sorenna… Just keep going, I whispered to myself, teeth trembling. I couldn’t tell if it was from the cold, but my knees were going numb.
Now, I couldn’t move forward, nor could I turn around, but in the end, I had to do one.
If I kept going forward, it might strike me… or tear me apart… or blast me with electricity… burn me alive. I didn’t know what it was yet, so I couldn’t imagine the cruelest way it might kill me.
Moving forward was a bad idea. That left only one choice: turn around and face it.
Slowly, I slid my knife from the sheath at my belly. If it truly was the Storm Drake I’d seen beside the Prince earlier, then I’d be crushed to pieces, even with my tiny knife.
But I didn’t care. I had to stand my ground.
With trembling hands, I turned around, and my heart almost stopped.
It was unlike any creature I had ever seen. The Storm Drake. And that meant one of the trueborn princes was lurking nearby.
I took in the beast, and my throat tightened, almost choking on the gulp. It loomed like a mountain torn from the sky, wings stretching wide and fierce.
Its body was a sleek fusion of obsidian-black scales, cracked with veins of glowing storm-light.
“I…” I opened my mouth, but it snapped shut the moment I heard a voice.
“Back off from her, Marek. We don’t want her scared. Not just yet.” The last words were delivered with a teasing, ironic edge.
Tracing the voice, I spotted a man leaning casually against the bark of a tree by the river in the middle of the street.
My mouth slightly opened at his appearance. He was stunning. Soft, dark chestnut hair that falls in gentle waves makes his face look effortless and charming as he narrows his deep emerald eyes at me.
For a brief moment those eyes drew me in like a calm forest, his face sharp and elegant.
I silently let out a gasp at his striking features as I took him in.
I couldn’t deny the word that slipped from my lips.
“Gorgeous.”
“Nice to meet you, Star-bearer.” His voice dripped like honey, smooth, disarming, and utterly unexpected coming from the owner of the Storm Drake.
“I’m Prince Zaryth Velcaryn, second prince of the trueborn clan. I won’t hurt you.” He smiled, a slow, knowing smile that only made his charm deepen.
Unlike Rhysand, his aura wasn’t intimidating. And I couldn’t tell if I could trust him. Not yet…. Or never.
At his command, the beast stepped back, and my heart dropped with a small, cautious relief. Maybe I wasn’t going to die tonight, I whispered to myself.
“I don’t care who you are… Just step back and let me leave in peace.” I demanded, not caring that he had his beast with him. I shoved my knife forward, ready to defend myself.
But he laughed charmingly, tempting me, and I wouldn’t fall for it.
“If you leave here, you die, Star-bearer.” His eyes blazed with green light. “And there’s no way I’m letting you die.”
His tone was protective, and somehow that stirred something inside me.
Rhysand wanted me dead… But Zaryth? He said he wouldn’t let me die. How was that possible?
One wanted me gone; the other was willing to keep me alive at all costs and wouldn’t even let me walk away. Could things get any worse?
Something felt off. All Sylvarra princes were dangerous, and I wasn’t about to forget that.
“I don’t need your saving, Zaryth Velcaryn. I need you to back off.”
“I suppose you heard her clearly, Zaryth. Back off, she said.” A sharp voice snapped from behind me, and suddenly I realized I was trapped… caught between two trueborn princes.
His pale silver-gray eyes, nearly colorless, held an unsettling calm. Midnight brown hair framed his lean, tall physique, built more for speed and strategy than brute strength.
No… way they would actually make me choose. Would they? Gods, I’d be doomed if I had to.
- Writer
