It never came.
“Go on then,” he said, eyes tracing her as she continued to take cautious steps away, never turning her back on him. He still wore that unnerving smirk, curiously scrutinizing her every move. It made her want to drive that dagger right through his heart and be done with him. But if Dominic Nite wasn’t already after her, he sure would be if she murdered one of his Andreilians.
Adara’s brows furrowed, completely baffled that he was letting her leave.
Then his voice cut through the air, sharp and cold as a knife. “Oh, before you go,” he started. The corner of his lips twitched upward as he held up a hand. From it dangled a golden chain with a key attached.
Adara’s jaw dropped. Her hand shot to her chest where the weight of that cold metal had become so familiar. The key swayed side to side on the chain like a pendulum, a clock ticking down the time, taunting her.
“Might want to hide this better. Andreilia is not the place to wear your heart on your sleeve or your key around your pretty neck.” He tossed her necklace back to her.
She caught it, scanned it for damage, and released a breath when it appeared unmarred. Then she returned it to her neck, tucking it beneath her shirt. He was right, but it didn’t matter since it wasn’t her key.
When she looked back up, he was gone.
Adara’s breaths came in short, ragged gasps. Her heart felt like it would beat out of her chest as she sprinted through the jungle.
So at contrast was this island, a land of beauty and danger intertwined. She would love to stop and smell the vibrant flowers that glowed in the darkest shadows beneath the trees. She would love to pause and dance in the midst of the tiny electric blue fireflies and violet butterflies fluttering about in the foliage. She would love to lie in the glades between the trees where the sunlight shone so pure and bright against the verdant grass.
Perhaps she would sometime—if she survived whatever creature trailed her, its growls growing closer, hungrier. She glanced back at the beast hunting her. Its yellow eyes bore into her soul like it would devour her with nothing more than a mereglimpse. Dark fur blended with the shadows. Its lupine head was trained on her, nostrils flaring as it scented her. Antlers, sharp as knives, protruded from its skull. A barbed tail flicked at its backside, powerful claws digging into the dirt as it raced closer.
In the distance, shouts rang out, hoots and hollers and the clang of weapons. The Andreilians, it seemed, were joining the hunt, alerted by her footsteps as she crashed through branches and brambles to escape the beast. The wolf-like creature bared its fangs in a snarl, saliva dripping from its sharp, jagged teeth like it had already tasted her and lusted for more. Then it let out a blaring howl, as if calling for backup, and the shouts of the Andreilians grew louder, more euphoric in the thrill of the hunt.
The forest shifted, trees groaning in the whistling wind, a low, haunting tune in her ears. A branch lashed out in front of her, and Adara barely had time to duck so it wouldn’t smack her in the face. Another reached out, spindly wooden fingers latching onto her cloak. It yanked at the fabric at the back of her neck, tossing her to the ground. The beast closed the distance behind her. Adara drew her dagger, slashing its eye. Silver blood spilled down its snout. It reared back and she took the opportunity to scramble away from the teeth that snapped at her neck.
She veered left. Tree limbs wove together before her, an impenetrable gate blocking her path. She tried another direction, only to find the same twisted wooden barrier. She cursed and sprinted through the only path left open.
She was running right into a trap. Dominic Nite’s magic was intertwined with the island, Damon had said, and he was commanding the earth to do his bidding. The whole bloody island was his trap, and she’d been ensnared the second she set foot on shore.
Her magic might have been strong enough to defeat his, to burn away the earthen gates that walled her in on either side, but she did not want to expose herself—her magic—to the King ofKeys. Helpless, she followed the path set out before her, vicious snarls still trailing behind.
Light pierced through the trees up ahead. That Andreilian had told her to stay along the outskirts of the island, that the beach was the safest. Hope fluttered in Adara’s chest—
Then crumbled away like the rocks at the edge of the jagged cliff as she skidded to a halt. She gasped, precariously balancing at the edge, nearly tumbling into the violent waves crashing below. Jagged rocks lined the bottom, peeking out from the water. Adara swore under her breath, turning back toward the forest, only to be met by slitted yellow eyes and a low guttural growl.
She could draw her sword, fight the beast with Ignatian steel, but she saw how it had reacted to her knife. Impassive. Unfaltering. She needed the creature to be long gone.
The beast stalked closer, the tips of its antlers coated with dried blood. Barbs on its tail glinted in the sun. Its lips curled back in a snarl, baring its teeth at her. The beast licked its lips and lunged.
Itryla al rone yi mon taka,Adara thought and leaped off the cliff.
For a moment, wind whipped at her clothes as she plummeted, weightless. Then her arm lashed out, grasping firmly onto a root hanging from the side of the cliff. She bit back a scream, pain shooting through her arm threatening to rip from its socket. Bits of rock rained down from above, scraping her face as the thick root lurched beneath her weight.
The wolf-like figure was a blur overhead, plunging after her.
It snarled as it fell. Claws latched onto her ankle, sinking deep into her skin. Adara let out a muffled noise of pain. Her blood spilled down its forelimb. She bit her tongue, the tang of copper filling her mouth as it sank its claws deeper, clutching onto her like a lifeline.
The root trembled under their weight. She reached up with her other hand, clinging to it. Blinking against the dust and pain, her grip did not falter, and she prayed the root wouldn’t either as she kicked at the creature’s snout with her good leg.
Her breath came in spurts, heaving through the pain, palms burning, wood splintering beneath her grip, blood pooling in her boot. She risked a glance down at the jagged rocks far below, at the roiling ocean waves, and couldn’t help but think of what a painless death this would be compared to anything Moira had in store for her. Adara loathed the Goddess of Fate. She often tried to find ways to defy the deity that supposedly controlled her life. In turn, the goddess only invoked her wrath upon Adara’s destiny even more.
But it seemed Moira was saving her rampage for another day, because with one final blow to the creature’s head, its claws slipped from her skin. Its body crashed onto the rocks below in a mangled heap, drifting away with the tide.
She stuffed her boots into narrow cracks between rocks and roots, blinking through the haze of agony that shot through her ankle. Her arms strained. Her fingers clutched at grass, nails digging into dirt as she hauled herself up over the ledge.
Adara hissed as she peeled away her bloodied boot to reveal her mangled ankle. Thankfully, the blood was already slowing, clotting before her eyes, the unnatural healing abilities she possessed slowly kicking in.
Tearing off a strip from the hem of her shirt, Adara tied it around her ankle, shoved her foot back into her boot, and started off into the jungle once more.
