Chapter 04 - Defiance
1175 Words
Dante
My chest tightened.
It felt like something ancient inside me had opened its eyes.
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe right. I just stood there, staring at her. Her sharp green eyes were locked on mine.
She looked furious.
Did she feel what I was feeling?
“Boss?” Cathal called, bringing my attention back to the present.
Slowly, I peeled my eyes away from the girl and brought it on the man, struggling in Cathal’s grip. I pulled out my dagger and stretched it at his neck.
The man squirmed in Cathal’s grip, panting, still trying to twist free.
I pressed the tip of my dagger against his neck just hard enough for him to feel the cold kiss of steel.
“Touch a woman like that again,” I said quietly, “and I’ll rip your throat out so slow you’ll hear every vein tear.”
His eyes went wide, and his body trembled as he went still like a hunted animal realizing it was too late to run.
I stepped back, sheathing my dagger. “Let him go,” I said.
Cathal stared at me like I’d lost it. “What?”
“Let. Him. Go.”
Cathal dropped the man and he hit the ground hard, wheezing.
The man didn’t hesitate. As soon as he was out of Cathal’s grip, he stumbled, slipped, then ran into the night like a wounded prey.
Pathetic.
As I turned, something white fluttered near the girl’s feet.
A wanted poster.
I picked it up.
“WANTED. DEAD OR ALIVE.”
“REWARD. ONE CHEST OF GOLD.”
“DELIVER TO THE ROYAL PALACE. TO LORD LUCIAN.”
I stared at the poster, then at the girl, who was now sitting up, brushing dirt off her bloody shoulder. Her breathing was sharp, but her spine was straight. She didn’t flinch when I looked at her.
That’s a lot of reward for an ordinary undercity girl.
It’s no wonder that the man tried to kill her; to get the gold.
I held up the paper. “You’re wanted.”
She didn’t answer. Her chest rose and fell, and her fingers balled in a fist.
“I could turn you in,” I added.
Her fiery green eyes met mine. “Then why haven’t you?”
I paused.
Even as she was bruised, she still had that fire in her.
I crouched beside her, letting the paper fall from my fingers. It landed in a puddle, the ink smudging as the water swallowed the words.
I leaned in. “Who are you?”
She looked away. “Nobody.”
I clenched my jaw.
“Wrong answer,” I muttered, and reached out, taking her face between my fingers. Her skin was cold and soft. I tilted her chin up, searching her face.
Looking for… something.
A sign. A spark. A hint that she felt what I did.
But there was nothing.
Only her hard stare and a jaw set with pride.
Like she hated me already.
I pulled my hand back slowly, a twisting feeling in my chest. My thoughts were loud, but my face stayed blank.
Maybe I’d imagined it.
Maybe the scent. The pull. The stillness in time wasn’t real. None of it was real.
What was I thinking?
My heart was too cold for the gods to grant me a mate.
Without a word, I stood and walked away with Cathal following like a ghost behind me, silent as ever.
She’d given me one last look as I turned away. Not a look of fear or gratitude, but defiance. Like she’d won something I hadn’t realized I’d lost.
The ride back was quiet, but my mind wasn’t. I stared at the window, watching the trees blur past.
Her face was etched on my mind, her eyes looking like she was peering into my soul. Her scent still lingered in my lungs; I could still remember how she smelt as her scent clung to my coat.
Wild, fierce, and untamed.
She didn’t smell like a nobody.
She smelled like danger.
Like fire under ice.
Like she could ruin everything.
I pressed my hand to my chest, feeling the steady thump beneath my ribs. It had never beat like that for anyone.
But love?
Love got men killed.
And I had no plans to die anytime soon.
It was for the best that I didn’t succumb to my emotions and press hard. It was better as she was a mystery, and she’d remain a mystery.
The carriage hit a bump, jolting me slightly.
I reached down to adjust my dagger at my belt—
And froze.
It was gone.
I patted again, slow this time.
Nothing.
My dagger, the steel curved blade carved from a cursed star, passed through generations of Corvus blood was…gone.
It’d been placed on my hands by my father, and I’d carried it through blood and fire. And now, it was gone.
That was impossible.
Surely, I would’ve known if it’d fallen off its sheath, because only a wolf of my bloodline—the Corvus—or the Varela royal bloodline, could touch it without the stones scorching their skin.
My eyebrows furrowed as I tried to trace back how I must’ve lost my blade.
My mind immediately went to the wanted girl.
I had touched her face, and she had been close.
Close enough, but I’d have known if she’d slipped her hand into my belt.
Unless, she was more sneaky than a snake.
Interesting.
“What’s wrong?” Cathal said, sensing the change in my mood.
My eyes narrowed. “Someone stole my dagger.”
Cathal scoffed. “That’s impossible.”
I looked up at Cathal. “She took it,” I said, my voice like steel.
Cathal looked shocked. “That dagger burns anyone who’s not Corvus or Varela.”
“Exactly.”
Silence stretched thick in the air.
“Should we go after her?” he asked, already trying to turn the carriage around.
“No,” I said.
“But—”
“She’s wanted…for a large reward. Soon, the whole undercity would be searching for her. It’s only logical that she’d trade the dagger for money, and attempt to leave the city. If she tries to sell it, there’s only one place it’ll go.”
Cathal looked at me carefully. “The Black Market?”
I didn’t answer.
I was already thinking ahead.
If she had my dagger… then she wasn’t a nobody.
Infact, she wasn't just anyone.
She was either a Corvus or a Varela.
If the dagger didn’t burn her, that means she was a pure blooded Varela. And only one true blooded Varela lived—the forgotten Princess.
The one with the bounty big enough to make anyone rich, and I had just let her go.
I scoffed, slightly amused at the game the gods were playing—they sent me a Varelean thief.
Well, good thing I love games.
And I would play this one till I got to the finish line.
- Writer
