THE FORSAKEN LYCAN PRINCESS.

CH 28..

The echo of Marcus’s threat hung in the freezing air, sharp as a physical blade, tearing straight through my chest.

Three minutes.

Every second dragged like a heavy iron weight. I stared at the dark, mossy root of the split oak tree just inches from my trembling fingers. Beyond it lay safety, freedom but behind me, in the fog-drenched ditch, Gerald was kneeling in his own blood, an executioner's blade resting against the nape of his neck because he had chosen to shield me.

The guilt hit me with the force of a tidal wave, a suffocation so absolute that my lungs seized. He had spent years protecting an unranked, forgotten ghost. He was the only person in this godforsaken territory who had looked at me with warmth, who had fed me when I was starving, who had bled for me in the dark.

I couldn't do it. I couldn't trade his life for my freedom. I couldn't step into the light over the corpse of the only man who had ever truly loved me.

I pulled my hand back from the split oak.

"STOP!" I screamed into the misty silence, my voice tearing raw from my throat, echoing wildly through the looming pine canopy.

"DON'T HURT HIM! I’M HERE! I SURRENDER!"

I stepped out from beneath the dark shelter of the dead oak tree into the open, frost-bitten clearing, my hands raised high above my head, my whole frame shaking violently in the biting cold.

A hundred yards down the slope, through the thick veil of pine fog, a hoarse, agonizing roar erupted from the ditch.

"NO! ELARA, NO!"

It was Gerald. His voice was ragged, choked with blood and pure, unadulterated desperation. He thrashed against the two hulking guards pinning his shoulders to the mud, his eyes wide and bloodshot as he spotted my silhouette against the tree line.

"RUN, DAMN YOU, RUN!" Gerald wailed, his chest heaving, tears cutting clean tracks through the thick layer of dirt and red smear covering his cheeks.

"DON'T LOOK AT ME! GO OVER THE BORDER! STEP INTO CRESTHAVEN! DON'T GIVE THEM WHAT THEY WANT! ELARA, PLEASE! IF YOU TURN BACK NOW, EVERYTHING I DID IS FOR NOTHING! LET ME DIE, BUT YOU HAVE TO LIVE!"

His screams turned into a guttural, heart-shattering sob, a sound so raw and broken it shattered whatever was left of my spirit. He clawed at the mud, trying desperately to break free, to force his body upward, to throw himself between me and the approaching storm.

"DON'T COME BACK FOR ME! I BEG YOU, PRINCESS, GO!" he shrieked, his voice cracking into a frantic, high-pitched plea that echoed off the cold mountain rock.

"THEY WILL DESTROY YOU! THEY WILL HAND YOU TO THE MONSTERS! RUN! RUN!"

"I'm sorry, Gerald," I choked out, a silent whisper lost to the cold wind. Tears spilled over my lashes, burning down my frozen cheeks.

"I can't let you die for me."

Before I could take another step forward, the pine bushes around me exploded in a flurry of movement.

Four Silverwood Elite Enforcers burst from the fog like ravenous vultures. Before I could even draw a breath, a heavy iron gauntlet struck the back of my neck with crushing force.

My knees slammed into the freezing mud, the impact driving the air straight out of my lungs. Heavy, brutal hands seized my arms, yanking them backward with sickening force until my shoulder joints popped in agony.

CLANG!

Cold, spell-carved iron manacles snapped shut around my raw, bandaged wrists. The moment the iron bit into my skin, an agonizing, draining shockwave rippled through my veins. Whatever faint, flickering ember of strength my suppressed inner wolf had left was instantly snuffed out, leaving me completely weak, gasping, and utterly helpless.

"Well, well..." Beta Marcus’s voice purred from above me.

He stepped through the parting mist, his heavy broadsword resting casually over his armored shoulder. A grotesque, triumphant sneer stretched across his face as he looked down at me sprawling in the dirt.

Without a word of warning, Marcus reached down, grabbed a handful of my hair, and yanked my head back with violent, brutal force. Pain flared across my scalp, forcing a ragged gasp from my lips as he dragged me backward across the icy gravel toward the edge of the perimeter ditch.

"The unwanted princess finally decides to play the hero," Marcus chuckled sinisterly, his hot, metallic breath fanning against my cheek.

"How touching."

He hurled me onto the edge of the embankment right beside the stone boundary post. I tumbled hard into the freezing mud, the iron manacles clanking loudly against the rock, scraping my bloody palms.

Two feet away from me, Gerald was pinned to his knees. His face was unrecognizable, bruised, swollen, blood streaming from a deep gash over his eye down into his dark beard. His leather chest-plate was split wide open, his breathing ragged and shallow.

When he looked at me, the pure, agonizing defeat in his amber eyes tore straight through my heart.

"Why..." Gerald wept silently, blood dripping from his cracked lips onto his knees.

"Why didn't you run,... why..."

"Gerald..." I sobbed, struggling to push myself up with my bound hands, my knuckles digging into the frozen earth.

I turned my desperate, tear-streaked face up toward Beta Marcus, thrashing against the heavy iron chains that bound me.

"I’m here!" I screamed, my voice shaking with pure, hysterical fury.

"I gave myself up! I’m standing right here! Take me to my father, take me to the elders, do whatever terrible thing you planned to do with me! But you promised! You said if I turned back, you wouldn't kill him! Let him go!"

Beta Marcus slowly lowered his broadsword, resting the tip of the heavy steel blade against the frozen ground between us. He leaned down, his golden eyes flashing with a cold, ruthless malice that chilled my blood far more than the northern wind ever could.

"Promised?" Marcus whispered, a dark, sickening chuckle vibrating in his chest. He reached out with his leather boot, kicking Gerald’s knee out from under him, forcing the guard's forehead down toward the icy stone floor.

"You naive, foolish little creature. High treason against the ruling house isn't wiped clean just because a broken, unwanted princess surrenders herself."

My heart stopped. The world around me seemed to lose all sound.

"No..." I gasped, terror paralyzing my throat.

"No, Marcus, please! He only did what I asked! It was all me! Take it out on me!"

"A traitor's death is a mandatory lesson for the rest of the pack," Marcus sneered, stepping back and raising his hand high into the air.

He signaled the hulking Elite Enforcer standing directly behind Gerald.

The warrior stepped forward, his dark eyes completely devoid of mercy. He planted his heavy boot firmly against the middle of Gerald’s back, pressing him down, and drew a massive, double-edged broadsword from his scabbard with a sharp, lethal SCHWING.

"BETA MARCUS, NO! I BEG YOU! PLEASE!" I shrieked, thrashing frantically against my chains, my knees dragging through the mud as I tried to throw my body over Gerald’s frame.

"TAKE ME INSTEAD! KILL ME INSTEAD!"

"Execute the traitor," Marcus commanded coldly.

The guard drew his arms back, turning his shoulders, and raised the heavy broadsword high above his head. The pale morning light glinted off the razor-sharp edge of the steel.

"ELARA, LIVE!" Gerald choked out his final, desperate words into the dirt, his eyes locked on mine until the very last second.

"NOOOOOOOOO!"