10 YEARS AGO
Alaric's heart is beating wildly in his chest, pushing away the exhaustion from days on the run. His stomach aches from the lack of food lining his insides with no immediate meal to be seen anywhere in the immediate future. Dirt covers his once expensive clothes, now torn and discolored. He is a fine sight for an alpha's oldest son - crouched behind rotten-smelling dumpsters like a rat, watching what’s left of his family's doom approaching cautiously with the look of years in the killing field. They have found his family's latest hideout, after only a few days, and Alaric has no clue how he is going to save them this time. The thought of his three sisters, so young and full of life, killed in this dirty, haunted warehouse and left for the scavenging crows is more than he is capable of handling. This is all Maximo's fault! Taking their parents - taking their home, isn’t good enough. He has to take their lives too. Shallowing back his emotions, Alaric desperately tries to gather his scattered wits.
"Alaric, what are we going to do?" Alec, the orphan that recently joined the Castor family, asks with an edge of fear.
He is a year or two older than the twins who are only twelve and Bela, who is only nine year of age. He became fast friends with little talkative Moira living in the Manor House, so when they fled, so did he. Now, he has taken on the responsibility of helping protect the girl's and Alaric couldn't be more grateful.
"I don't understand why they are hunting us so aggressively." Alaric replies in a whisper.
Everything the two boys have done so far to keep them safe is about to be all for nothing.
"Your family will always be a threat to their family's position and power. The easiest way to prevent a future war is to kill you while you are young. It makes sense if you think about it." Alec responds.
According to Alec’s logic, only he would be able to escape and start a new life without assassins hunting him in the shadows. Alaric turns his eyes away from the men and women with their weapons already drawn and hunting for blood, to look at Alec.
"If you run, they might let you go,” He says, “but you'll have to do it now."
Alec frowns deeply, "Don't insult my honor Alaric. Your family took me in when I had nothing and nowhere to go. I won't abandon you now." Alec replies with conviction, ready to die with the people that took him in.
Alaric thinks it is a pity for such a brave and kind boy to die fighting a battle that has nothing to do with him. Still, Alaric takes courage that at the very least, he will not be going into this alone, that he won’t be dying alone.
Alaric frowns sadly, meeting the dark emerald eyes of the boy only two years his junior, crouching beside him, "We are going to die Alec, but we can still save the others. Our sacrifice can save the girls."
Alaric knows exactly what he is asking of Alec. To die for his family, to ensure that at least the girls lived another day and the orphan will help him make that a reality. The cost? To die here, on this warm summer night with nothing but their names to leave behind and even that will be forgotten with time.
A solemn expression passes over his features, "I'm listening." Alec says, resigning to his chosen fate.
"If we ran back to the girls, by the time we were ready to move, they would have surrounded us and blocked our only means of escape. But if we fight now, right here, the sound will hopefully reach and alert the girls. If they are smart, then they will run and live."
"There are three of them, how long do you think we could hold them off?" Alec asks.
Alaric shakes his dark-auburn head helplessly, "I don't know, but it's our only choice."
The two teenage boys take out their weapons, holding them with a determination that would make any warrior proud. When time runs out, Alaric and Alec jump from their hiding spot to meet the deadly assassins, knowing that this would be their last few breaths. The three assassins laugh in the face of the young teens' bravery, mocking their courage, but it does not deter the boys' determination. Alaric knows how to fight being sixteen. He has already begun training to be a warrior long before his father and first mate was overthrown. But he could have never prepared for what happens when the assassins finally attack. They are not insanely fast like werewolves, not in the normal sense anyway. They do not even come close enough for Alaric to touch them. The benders didn't need superspeed or brute strength when they commanded the elements of the world. Alaric stumbles, trying to keep up with the ice sharbs raining down. Blow after painful blow, they hit their mark, slicing through Alaric's flesh like daggers. They could have killed him with a single shard to the heart, but the benders are having too much fun to be done with the teenagers so quickly. Alaric wants to cry out with frustration. How could his sisters ever stand a chance against people hunting them like this? He hears the hiss of pain, telling of Alec’s struggle.
"I'm an orphan!" Alec shouts, drawing Alaric's attention.
Alec risks the distraction, confused by Alec’s angry words. The boy isn’t doing well against the benders, especially with no wolf powers to speak of. The woman, able to create and control fire, as his throat snuggly in her hand, a wicked smile on her cruel face making her appear much older than what she probably is. This is sucide, but the longer they live, the more time it gives his sisters to get away.
"Don't listen to anything they have to say, they are trying to trick you! They will kill us! They are going to kill us! Fight Alec!"
Alaric doesn’t get to see Alec fight. Alaric doesn’t see anything else, except a bright white light illuminating everything around him. Is he dead? Did they kill him that quickly? No, he can't be dead. Every nerve in his body seems to be electrified and every hair seems to stand on end as his supernatural abilities allow him to pick up the rip in the fabric of the world. He holds his breath, deadly scared as he feels the effects of the energy changing all around him and the matter of the universe being manipulated by something that can only be powerful. He is almost too scared to look around as the colours of the world return. There’s a newcomer. She stands in an armour of pure gold, like an avenging angel. She is unreal, almost too beautiful to look at with a perfection derived from another world. Purple hair moving of its own accord around her frame as she smiles at the benders. Quicker than humanly possible, quicker than supernaturally possible, the benders are dead and Alec is hopefully just unconscious. Blades retract back into the gloves of her armour. She doesn’t bother about the blood coating them. Alaric stares at the woman too beautiful to be of this world. Even as a teenager, he can appreciate a beautiful looking woman. He was hardly lacking the attention of women similarly aged at his old home. A glow of power, beyond even the supernatural persona of the species he knows, hovers in the air around her protectively. Not that Alaric thinks she needs it. He just watched her kill three assassins as if they were nothing more than an irritation.
"Thank you!" Alaric says with tears filling his eyes and threatening to fall.
"Don't thank me child, I did not do this solely for pure intentions." The woman says, coming closer and cupping his cheek in her hand. "How old are you?” She asks curiously.
She’s close enough for Alaric to smell the heavenly scent clinging to her body, mixed with the scent of fresh blood. Alaric looks into pools of purple, the same colour as her hair.
Alaric shifts uncomfortably at the focus she directs at him and the thumb creasing his cheek, “Sixteen.” He tells her, barely holding back the words he wishes to ask. What the hell is she and why would she help him?
“You are lovely for a mortal. Such rare features." She says with a musical voice.
Alaric wonders what she means by that, "Who are you?"
The surreal woman turns her body and points at the corpses lying on the ground in their own blood. "Do you know who they are?" She questions.
"They were assassins. My family and I - we are on the run from a man called Maximo. He has taken our home and killed our parents."
“Is that so?” She muses, smiling like an angel with mischief shining in her eyes. “I have a deal for you child, are you interested?”
*FROM AUTHOR
Thank you for following Book Two. I hope you enjoy it as much as you enjoyed Book One.
I am not a full-time writer. However, I would like to release two to three chapters a week. If I am delayed, I apologize. I love writing and there would be a good reason that I couldn't. Xx