The Fall
1140 Words
Wind ripped past Aria’s ears so violently it felt alive.
For one reckless, breathtaking second, she felt free.
No haunted palace.
No blood-soaked ballroom.
No monster with golden eyes.
No scent that made her thoughts blur whenever he came near.
No strange pull in her chest that always seemed to drag her back toward him.
Only open air.
Cold.
Sharp.
Endless.
Then the mountain rushed up to meet her.
The palace wall flashed beside her in streaks of black stone as she plummeted downward. Her stomach lurched so hard she thought she would be sick. Panic came too late, wild and useless.
She had jumped.
She was going to die.
Her hands clawed at nothing. Her body twisted helplessly in the air. Far below, jagged rocks and towering pine trees waited like teeth.
Then something leapt over the edge above her.
A dark shape.
Fast.
Impossible.
It dropped through the sky beside her with terrifying speed.
Kael.
Before she could scream, one arm wrapped around her waist, locking her against him. His other hand cradled the back of her head and forced her face against his chest.
Warmth.
Hard muscle.
That maddening scent of winter forests and danger.
He twisted in midair, turning them so that his body was beneath hers.
Shielding her.
The ground hit them like an explosion.
They crashed through the top branches of a pine tree. Wood splintered around them. Another trunk snapped beneath Kael’s shoulder. Dirt and stones burst upward as they slammed into the earth.
Aria’s scream was swallowed by impact after impact.
Yet through all of it, his grip never loosened.
Then stillness.
Birds shrieked somewhere overhead. Leaves drifted down around them. Her own breathing came fast and ragged.
Aria opened her eyes.
She lay sprawled across Kael’s body in a crater of broken branches and torn earth at the foot of the mountain. Pale morning light filtered through the trees above, catching in clouds of dust.
She was alive.
No broken bones. No blood.
Because he had taken the fall for her.
Aria shoved herself away from him so quickly she slipped in the dirt.
Kael did not move.
He lay on his back, chest still, dark hair scattered over the ground. A deep cut bled from his forehead. His shirt hung in torn strips, exposing bruised skin already darkening across his ribs.
Good.
The thought came instantly.
But why did her chest ache?
She staggered to her feet.
“You should be dead,” she whispered.
A low groan answered her.
Kael’s fingers flexed against the dirt. Then he planted one hand and pushed himself upright.
Bones shifted beneath skin with sickening cracks.
Not breaking.
Healing.
The wound on his forehead closed before her eyes, blood disappearing into smooth skin as if it had never existed.
Aria stumbled back in horror.
He lifted his head slowly.
Those eyes opened.
Gold.
Bright and unnatural in the cold daylight.
“No,” she breathed.
A faint smirk touched his mouth.
“Yes.”
She ran.
Branches lashed her arms as she tore through the forest. Wet roots twisted beneath her bare feet. Stones sliced into her skin. Her lungs burned, but she did not stop.
Run.
Run.
Run.
Behind her there were no footsteps.
No crashing pursuit.
No growl.
That frightened her more than if he had chased.
The strange ache in her chest sharpened the farther she ran, like invisible threads pulling tight inside her ribs.
Ignore it.
She burst through a wall of ferns and into a clearing.
Then stopped dead.
Three wolves stood waiting.
They were enormous.
Each one was the size of a horse, bodies thick with muscle beneath fur black as storm clouds. Their silver eyes fixed on her with terrifying intelligence. Saliva dripped from mouths lined with teeth too large to belong to any natural creature.
One stepped forward with a growl that vibrated through the ground.
Another moved behind her.
The third circled left.
Aria spun, trapped.
She searched the clearing wildly for anything.
A branch.
A rock.
A weapon.
Nothing.
The wolves lowered themselves, ready to spring.
Then a colder growl cut through the air.
All three beasts dropped instantly to their bellies.
The forest itself seemed to go still.
Kael stepped from between the trees.
Blood still streaked one side of his face. Dirt covered his hands and forearms. His torn shirt hung from one shoulder, exposing the hard planes of his chest and the bruises already fading from his skin.
He looked less like a man and more like something ancient wearing one.
The wolves trembled.
He ignored them.
His eyes found Aria.
To her disgust, relief hit first.
He approached with calm, measured steps and stopped inches away.
“I gave you one minute.”
Aria pressed her lips together.
Said nothing.
His gaze dropped to her mouth, then returned to her eyes.
Understanding flickered there.
“So that’s your choice.”
Silence.
A muscle ticked in his jaw.
“No more words for me?”
Nothing.
Not a sound.
Behind her, one wolf dared lift its head and snarl.
Kael moved so fast she barely saw him.
He seized the beast by the scruff and hurled it across the clearing. It crashed into the undergrowth with a whine. The other two fled instantly.
Aria flinched but kept her silence.
His attention dropped to her feet.
Blood stained the grass beneath her.
Cuts lined her soles from stone and thorns.
Something dangerous hardened in his face.
Without warning, he bent and lifted her into his arms.
The sudden contact stole her breath.
She fought instantly—shoving at his chest, striking his shoulders, twisting to escape.
No words.
Only fury.
He held her as though she weighed nothing and started back through the trees.
Sunlight filtered between branches in pale beams. Mist curled low across the forest floor. His heartbeat thudded steadily beneath her palm where she pushed against him.
She jerked her hand away.
His mouth curved faintly.
“Violent silence,” he murmured. “Interesting.”
She glared up at him with pure hatred.
He carried her deeper through the forest as if her struggle weighed less than the torn fabric on his skin.
Aria twisted in his arms, striking his shoulder, shoving at his chest, refusing even a glance in return.
No words.
Not one.
His grip only adjusted to keep her from hurting herself.
After a long stretch of silence, he looked down at her.
There was no mockery in his face now. No amusement.
Only something darker.
Something dangerously sincere.
“Your voice is divine,” he repeated quietly.
Aria went still.
Then, slowly, she lifted her eyes to his.
A cold smile touched her lips.
And she answered him the cruelest way she could—
By turning her face away and offering him nothing but silence.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD