Under Crimson Rain (Book Two)

⋆˖☽Chapter 13 ☾˖⋆

"I am going to gather more wood," Emeric announced, his back already turned to our makeshift camp. His footsteps began to crush the dry leaves.

Mira sprang up from her crouch. Her expression remained its usual icy mask, but her voice carried an uncharacteristic, rigid edge. "I will help by gathering some starter."

Emeric paused just long enough for Mira to fall into step beside him. Before the encroaching shadows of the treeline swallowed them completely, she cast an unsmiling look over her shoulder.

Left behind, I sat in the growing silence. The damp chill of the forest floor had already begun to seep through my trousers. I ignored it, driving my fingers deep into the dark, loamy dirt. I piled the loose earth to the side, scooping and scraping. Around me, the nocturnal insects began to tune their evening chorus. Above, the twin moons crested the horizon, their mingled light already bleeding across the darkening sky.

Snap.

A twig fractured underfoot. I shot up instantly, instinct taking over as my hand gripped the wood of my bow.

"It's me." Mikaeus's voice was a low, soothing cadence, carrying just far enough to reach my ears.

I exhaled, sliding my bow back over my shoulder.

"I was able to find some fresh water," he offered, holding up a damp skin.

I crouched back down and buried my fingers once more into the freezing dirt. I don't want to waste time, I thought, letting the repetitive motion anchor my racing mind.

"It's getting colder," Mikaeus noted. He stepped around the perimeter of the pit and settled onto the ground at my side. "Do you want some help?"

"No. It is fine." I kept clawing at the earth, the mound of soil growing steadily beside my knees.

"Very well." He leaned back into the shifting grass, resting his weight on one hand as he took a sip from his waterskin. He stoppered the skin and fell quiet. I kept working, letting the stillness stretch between us as the moons climbed higher, casting long, warped shadows.

"I can take first watch when they return," I murmured, the words slipping out quieter than I intended.

His eyes were on me, carefully dissecting my profile. The sheer weight of his concern radiated against my skin.

"I don't want to..." Mikaeus began.

My hands froze. I looked up at him. The flickering moonlight caught the deep lines of worry etched around his mouth and eyes.

"...to push you," he finished gently.

I stayed silent, though the erratic drumming of my heart began to deafen me. I drove my fingers back into the cold soil, using the sharp bite of the earth to tether myself to the present.

"Why—" he started to ask.

I cut him off. "Why am I his doll?" I let out a shaky, angry huff of air. "I am not."

"That's not—"

"I was obedient enough. I did what needed to be done." My eyes dropped to my dirt-caked hands, though I knew it was more than just soil that stained them. They felt tainted. "I always have."

My fingers curled tight, crushing the loose earth into my palms. "I gave him just enough..." My voice trailed off, swallowed by the vastness of the night.

Mikaeus shifted, the rustle of his clothes sounding loud until his shoulder brushed against mine. In the biting cold of the evening air, the ambient heat pouring off his body was a stark, almost painful comfort. My muscles unlocked. I let my fingers uncurl, releasing the dirt, and rested my empty hands in my lap.

Mikaeus dipped his head, trying to catch my downcast gaze. The silver moon reflected brightly in his golden eyes. "Did he harm you?" he asked, his voice hesitant, thick with a dangerous, protective worry.

I couldn't answer. Memories flooded in, unbidden, sending a violent tremble through my frame. The ghost of cold steel pressed against my throat—just enough pressure to part the skin, just enough to draw a warm bead of blood. The suffocating weight of his claims.

I am going to kill him.

"No." I forced my voice to steady. "He made me stronger."

An unspoken argument flashed across Mikaeus's face. His jaw tightened as he searched my eyes for the truth. "I know you are strong," he said, his voice dropping to a low, resonant rumble in his chest. "You have always been."

"Yes. Stronger is what he made me," I whispered to the dirt.

The heavy crunch of approaching footsteps shattered the quiet. My head snapped up. Emeric emerged from the dense treeline, his arms laden with thick logs. Mira followed closely, clutching bundles of dry twigs and brittle leaves.

Emeric moved with an imposing silence, kneeling to lay the wood neatly into the pit I had hollowed out. Mira shifted awkwardly on her feet, her cold, calculating gaze flicking from Mikaeus, to me, and back again.

"Thank you for gathering what we needed," Mikaeus said, holding Mira's stare without blinking.

She offered a stiff nod, dropping her eyes back to Emeric as he finished arranging the pyre. As Mira knelt to position the kindling, Mikaeus shifted a fraction closer to me, leaning in to whisper. Before the breath could even form his words, I was on my feet.

"I will take the first watch." I turned my back, walking briskly away from the budding warmth of the camp.

The rhythmic hum of the insects swelled with every step I took into the dark. I walked until I found the perfect vantage point. Far enough to maintain my distance, yet close enough to intervene. I slid down the base of a massive oak, the rough bark scraping through my clothes. Letting my head fall back against the trunk, I stared up through the canopy. The crimson sky was bleeding fully into black as clouds swam overhead.

Hopefully, there will be no monsters tonight, I thought, scanning the shadows. The Cursed Moon doesn't rise for another two days.

My gaze drifted back. Toward the camp, Mira had reclined on the grass, her face tilted toward Mikaeus, who was murmuring something to her. Emeric wasn't by the fire. He was walking straight toward me.

A heavy sigh pushed past my lips. Is he finally going to speak? I whipped my head away, staring into the lightless woods. His footfalls slowed as he encroached on my space, halting exactly five paces away. He deliberately stared past my shoulder, feigning a sudden fascination with the high branches above my head. His gaze drifted downward. But the moment our eyes collided, he flinched, his focus snapping back to the canopy.

"What?" The word stumbled out of me, harsh and defensive. "You have wanted to say something... yet you hold back."

"I have nothing to say to you," he replied. His voice was a rough murmur.

My hands curled into tight fists. A hot, prickling irritation spiked just below my skin. Pushing off the tree, I was on my feet in a heartbeat, squaring my shoulders to him.

"No?" I challenged, stepping into his space. I stood in front of him, craning my neck backward just to glare into his face. "You can't even hold my eyes."

As if fighting a physical weight, his head turned. He looked down at me. For one singular, fractured second, the armor shattered. Deep worry etched itself across his features—and then it vanished, instantly swallowed by his impenetrable, hardened mask. He leaned down, dropping his head until his face hovered mere inches from mine.

"It is nothing that concerns you," he rumbled, each word measured and deliberate.

"Yes, it does," I retorted, letting my voice rise a fraction.

His breathing was ragged, uneven. The heat of his exhales washed over my upturned face, a sharp contrast to the biting night wind.

"Tell me." I let the anger bleed out, dropping my voice into a quiet demand.

A war raged behind his dark eyes. His jaw clenched tight, the muscles in his neck straining as if he were wrestling with his own vocal cords. And then, a crack. A profound sadness flooded his expression. His broad shoulders dropped forward, and he took a step back.

"I..." he paused, his gaze darting to the black woods, then back to my face. "Am—"

Pop.

A loud crack from the campfire echoed through the trees. We both jolted. Our heads snapped toward the sudden noise. In a blur of motion, Emeric's leather-clad hand flew to the hilt of his greatsword, half-unsheathing the blade. When he turned back to me, the vulnerability was eradicated. His eyes were dead winter ice.

"We need more wood," he stated flatly.

He was already moving, brushing past me. The leather of his glove groaned harshly against the hilt. His spine locked rigidly straight as he moved forward until he disappeared from sight.

I remained in place a moment longer. What— I cut the thought off. Moving back to the thick oak, I pressed my spine against the rough bark. It doesn't matter, I reminded myself.

The light breeze sharpened into biting gusts of wind. Above, the canopy dipped and whipped in frantic response, leaves hissing against the chill. Frost began to crystalize on the tips of the tall grass, and the moons’ shadows stretched longer, twisting against the wood.

And then, a flickering light.

Wait. My eyes snapped back to the darkness. The light flickered once more before being swallowed by the night. My muscles instantly tightened. Whipping my head back toward Mikaeus and Mira, I pivoted, dashing back to the camp. I slowed my steps as I grew closer, dropping into a low squat and wrapping my hand firmly around Mikaeus's shoulder.

"Mikaeus," I whispered, giving him a gentle shake. My head darted back over my shoulder. The light was still gone, but something heavy and primal twisted in my gut.

"Hmmm?" he mused, his eyes snapping open.

"I will be back. There is something I want to do." I rose quietly back to my feet.

He gave me a confused look as he sat up, brushing the sleep from his face. "I'll keep watch. Emeric?"

"He isn't back yet," I replied.

I turned my back on him and slipped into the dense brush. As soon as the faint glow of our camp disappeared behind the thicket, I let instincts take over and broke into a dead sprint. Don't travel on the ground. I aimed for the silhouette of a massive oak just ahead, sliding to a halt at its sprawling roots. Loading the strength into my legs, I sprang upward. Catching a lower branch, I hauled myself into the shadows and began to climb high into the canopy. Leaping seamlessly from one ancient tree to the next, I navigated the branches with practiced ease, tracking my way toward the exact spot where the light had vanished.

The forest had grown quiet. Every hair on the back of my neck stood on end, prickling with static warning. Almost there. I bounded to another thick branch and paused in the dense shadows, scanning the forest floor below. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Nothing moved. Silently, I slipped to the next tree. I forced my breathing to slow, quieting the adrenaline rushing in my ears.

There.

My hand flew to my bow. I slipped it from my shoulder and nocked an arrow. I aimed dead at the back of a man's head. His stark blonde hair seemed to soak in the crimson light of the moon, and all the warmth in my body rushed violently to my head, drowning out the ambient sounds of the forest. It reminds me of—

The man slowly turned around. Glacial blue eyes caught the moonlight, reflecting the dark night back at me.

Ruslan. My mind screamed the name. He won't live this time.

A frantic pulse thudded heavily in the hollow of my throat, but my vision tunneled, stripping away the forest until it was solely focused on him. I pulled my arm back, drawing the bowstring tight until the stiff fletching of the arrow brushed against my cheek. Just as my fingers twitched to release, his eyes snapped upward. They locked directly onto mine, piercing right through my cover in the canopy. A smile spread across his lips. A look of twisted, breathless exhilaration.

A cold dread rooted me to the bark.

I tightened my grip on the bow, steeling myself for the kill. I re-aimed for his heart. But he bent down, hauling a limp body up from the shadows with his bare hands. My entire body froze. A high, piercing ringing completely took over my hearing. Long, bloodied blonde hair caught the crimson moonlight. The captive's face was hidden, her head hanging limply forward in exhaustion.

Look up, his lips mouthed silently, his face pressed close to her ear. She didn't move. Smiling, he used his free hand to bunch her matted hair into his fist. He yanked her head back viciously, exposing her bruised face to the light.

Ondina.

Everything around me stopped moving. My breath hitched, trapped by a sudden, jagged tightness in my chest.

"Come now," he called out into the dark, his voice carrying effortlessly through the trees.

My eyes narrowed to lethal slits, locked on him. To prove his point, he yanked her head back even further, exposing the pale skin of her throat.

"Now!" he demanded.

The threat was unspoken but perfectly clear: he would kill her if I didn't show myself. My hands shook with blinding rage as I lowered the weapon, slowly slinging the bow back over my shoulder. I will kill him. He is dead.

I began my slow descent down the rough bark of the tree. Focus.

My boots hit the forest floor. I moved closer, finally coming to a halt twenty paces away. It was enough distance to react, but just barely. The dagger strapped to my thigh burned against my skin, begging to be pulled from its sheath and plunged straight into his heart.

In the shadows of the treeline, movement caught my eye. Ten more Vow members stepped out from the outskirts of the clearing, weapons drawn, waiting for his command. It was a trap, and I had willingly walked right into the center of it. The fifth scout, I realized, a sickening drop hitting my stomach. They had reported back.

"Come closer," Ruslan demanded, his voice a smooth, dangerous drawl.

I dug my boots into the frozen dirt. "Let her go, Ruslan," I demanded in return.

He clicked his tongue in mock disappointment. "I suggest you rethink your tone, Alanah." My fingers twitched at my sides. "You see, you are mine. But, I will offer you a deal."

"A deal?" I tilted my head, refusing to break contact with his glacial blue stare. It's a trick, my mind screamed in warning.

"It's rather simple. I let Ondina here go..." His voice dropped into a low, controlling timber. "...for you."

Ondina's green eyes were heavy, wide, and filled with desperate pleading. She is here because of me.

"Fine, but you let her go first."

"Very well." He shoved her forward.

She caught herself on her hands, her exhausted body trembling as her fingers dug into the dirt. Agonizingly slow, she hauled herself away from him. My heart ached for her, but the sight only poured fuel on the fire brimming in my chest. Heavy footsteps rushed up from the woods behind me. Someone screamed my name in the dark. I ignored it. My vision tunneled again. My attention was fixed entirely on the monster in front of me.

"I will come to you, then," he said, his tone eerily calm.

He started walking toward me, his spine rigidly straight. I counted each measured pace, my hand hovering, waiting for the perfect second to wrap around the hilt of my dagger. Five, four, three—

Child!

Enkarthos's ancient voice suddenly rattled through my very bones, vibrating in my teeth.

I tried to side-step, but it was too late. Ruslan lunged with blinding speed. The steel missed my heart, plunging deep, burying itself just beneath my collarbone. Agony flared, spreading through my chest like wildfire. I bit down hard on my lip, tasting copper as I trapped the scream in my throat.

"This is for Celia," he whispered, his face inches from mine. "You made a mistake. One you must pay for."

I ripped my dagger from its sheath. Ignoring the suffocating pain, I threw my weight forward. I slid my own body further down the length of his blade, the metal grinding against bone, just to get close enough to strike him. But before I could drive my dagger home, he violently ripped his sword free.

Hot blood spilled down my shirt, soaking the fabric. All around us, the deafening clash of metal on metal erupted.

"I must thoroughly break you this time," he mused, watching me bleed.

My vision swam dangerously. The dagger slipped from my weakening grasp, falling to the dirt. In the middle of the warzone, Ruslan's hand reached out. Gently, caressing my cheek. "This is the last time."

Distance. I need distance, my mind screamed. I weakly swatted his hand away, stumbling backward on unsteady, trembling legs.

"Alanah!" Mikaeus's voice rang out in panic over the din of the skirmish.

A roar shook the trees as dragon fire lit the night sky above us, the sudden, blistering heat breaking right through the winter cold. The metallic warmth of my own blood bloomed across my lips as I gasped for air.

"Stop trying to run," Ruslan scolded softly, ignoring the fiery chaos exploding around us. "A deal is a deal."

It took every final ounce of strength I possessed just to turn and run. I gasped, trying desperately to breathe through the searing pain radiating from my chest. My vision darkened around the edges with every frantic step, my limbs growing heavy. Behind me, the sharp clash of steel hitting steel echoed through the trees.

The world tilted on its axis. My body slammed into the cold ground, the jarring impact stealing the very last of my strength. The high-pitched ringing in my ears began to fade into a muffle. My eyes fluttered open one last time. The forest was entirely devoid of color, replaced by a dark miasma dancing and swirling in front of my fading vision. Through the blur, someone was sprinting toward me, dodging the chaos of the fight.

I made a mistake, my mind whispered.

My eyelids drooped shut, then forced themselves open again. The blurry figure was closer now. Pure panic was etched into every harsh line of their face, their mouth torn open in a desperate scream I couldn't hear. For a fraction of a second, my vision cleared.

Emeric? A sluggish, confused thought drifted through my dying mind. Why does he look so worried?

The dark miasma completely overtook my vision, a cold numbness crawling up the length of my body, chasing away the pain. I had nothing left. I could no longer fight. My ragged breathing slowed to a stop.

Everything went black.

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