Scorned: The Rebirth of Kaidaira

SPLIT SECOND DECISION

Kaidaira’s point of view.

It was six months from that night, but with Caspian before me now, my heart swelled with love. His small hands knitted into fists while his fragile eyelids fluttered at the gentle rhythm of his breathing. The sun beamed through the window and settled in the downy softness of his hair, fitting him out like a halo.

It danced golden on the tiny nose, rose-petal mouth, and round cheeks. His soft coos and scent of baby filled the room, an acute memory of what I was to lose.

But suddenly, there echoed through the distance that unmistakable sound of marching boots-a cadence of doom. The tremors vibrated through the floorboards, deep into my chest, a growl of warning.

Instinct yammered a warning, every nerve in high alert, as if the very air was electric with danger.

Trouble.

The air grew thick with tension as I turned to our vulnerable position: our small rustic house, lying on the very outer edges of the pack territory, would provide little protection against whatever was coming for us.

I looked over at Caspian, his face innocent. Behind him, death was moving in. His chest rose and sank in a soothing cadence with each breath.

How could I get him out?

Panic scratched at my brain, wanting to overwhelm me, but I ushered the fear back, turning to thoughts of escape instead.

The window.

I ran to it, pushed it open, and hoisted myself up. The wooden frame creaked, and the scent of fresh pine wafted in, carrying with it the promise of freedom.

"Caspian, my love," I whispered, gently lifting him from his crib. His warm body nestled into the sling across my chest, securing him tightly against me.

His tiny hands grasped my finger, holding tight.

The boots drew closer, heavy and rhythmic, the pound of an omen.

My heart pounded along with them, each beat a threat to shatter my resolution.

No time to lose.

I lowered myself from the window, landing softly on dew-soaked grass. The earthy smell and damp chill wrapped themselves around me.

The forest was a magnet, its denseness our only salvation. Towering trees loomed above, their branches etched against the sky like skeletal fingers.

The leaves in underbrush rustled as they swallowed my footsteps as I ran for the trees.

Leaves crunched beneath my feet, releasing earthy smells-damp soil, decaying leaves, and wild mushrooms.

Birds took to startled chirps, their echos ringing through the forest.

The scent of wildflowers wafted through the underbrush.

Caspian's soft breathing warmed my skin.

With every step I took, my resolve strengthened.

I would hide.

I would shield.

My child.

Amidst that, a thick bush with entwined and overgrown branches caught my sight, and I knew it was the only cover I could provide to Caspian. My heart heavy with a pang of guilt, I delicately placed him underneath it, hiding him from the world. The rustling leaves wrapped around him, and the smell of damp soil filled my nostrils. I knelt beside him as my fingers outlined the contours of his tiny face.

"Be safe, my love," I whispered, as my face was wet with tears, like autumn rain. The sorrow built up and was ready to drown me. His tiny hands, his first smiles, his gentle coos-all these things I might never see again.

All the perils he would go through Crosseyed my mind. Would he get food? Shelter? Love? All that doubt gnawed my soul like a voracious monster.

I kissed his forehead, committing to memory every feature with a breaking heart-the soft curve of his ears, the gentle slope of his nose, the rose-petal lips. My lips remained there, savoring the warmth of his skin.

I rose to my feet, and it was as if the whole earth had contorted into a crazed spin. The grounds splashed with long, stretching shadows, the skeletal fingers grasping, snatching at me. Every backward step to the house seemed an eternity.

But once inside, rough hands embraced me, clamping on my skin like iron tongs, gripping strong. I tried vainly to release myself and they held fast, digging finger-shaped grooves into my skin.

"Who are you?" a deep voice growled; I could feel the resonance vibrating through my chest. I shook, my fear clawing at my throat.

"I-I'm a lone wolf," I managed to stammer, not even loud enough to be heard. "Seeking refuge." The men exchanged skeptical glances, faces hewn from granite.

One raised an eyebrow, narrowing his eyes. "You're coming with us," he growled; there was a tightness in his grip. No blows came, no cruel words, just an unyielding resolute will.

They walked me out into bright daylight, to a waiting chariot. The edges of the carriage were gleaming in the sun.

The hoarse rattling of horseshoes was a death bell.

Well, they'd pushed me inside, amidst large guards, their armor dazzling like steel. Then the chariot heaved forward, and I found myself thrown against the wood railing.

I reached for it, my knuckles white, and the trees became a blur. Caspian.

My heart wailed, and the sound echoed in my mind. Where was I being taken? To their alpha. But who was this alpha? A righteous leader or a heartless tyrant?

Before me, the unknown yawned like a chasm. Fear and despair entwined, grasping for my airways.

As the chariot rode along, the images of Caspian swam across my mind: his first cries, his small hold upon my finger, and his deep sleep.

Tears streamed down my face, mingling with the wind.

"What will become of us?" I whispered to the wind.

It stopped before a great palace; the stone wall of it shone like polished steel. The guards led me between doors of elaborately wrought wood and inlaid bronze, which I pondered as I passed, my feet clattering against the marble floor.

Then we crossed gilded corridors, tapestries hanging golden with their threads. And step by step, the scents of incense and power began to choke the air.

Until at last, we came into the throne room. At the center, a figure sat upon that throne, his head raised, imperious.

His eyes, almost piercing, cut into mine, sending shivers down my spine. An intimidating aura enveloped him, a powerful mix of strength and authority, somewhat bestially raw.

The guards prodded me further, and I stumbled; my knees started to buckle.

"Kneel," one growled.

I did so, my eyes hugging the floor.

There was a long, drawn-out silence, an unbroken stillness in the room, compressing upon me like a tangible weight.

I raised my eyes and met his. The seriousness in the depth of his eyes took my breath away.

My lips parted, but words failed me.

Then came the profound clanking voice of the king, booming inside the hall, commanding, deep.

"Who are you?”