She looked so helpless when I found them tangled in the dirt. I could taste the fear in the air before I even saw her. Her face was painted beautifully in gore, covering those delicate freckles. I wanted nothing more than to snap in that moment, my death’s touch itching to devour his soul. To take away any sense of peace he would feel in the veil.
That feeling unsettles me, Iwantedto use my magic. And the fascination of her was nothing to be expected - I haven’t felt an interest in anything in centuries.
I had come back to this small fortress, where the dungeons were located, and saw my guard dead. With Alora missing, I knew Rion was somehow involved. My spies hadn’t told me of any changes from the others in the rebel group. They were still unaware of where Alora was being held.
A soft patter of feet catches my attention. Rune. He’s the only one who would be out here as my guards have retired. It’s just the two of us who stand watch overher.
Waiting until dawn when we can deliver her to the fates proves difficult when it seems she’s acquired the interest of Rion. He’s tricky when determined and I don’t expect him to give up the chase this easily.
Pacing as Rune greets me, I give him a deft nod.
“I hope you’ve brought plenty of your special tonic.”
His mouth quirks up, making his already thin lips smaller. His sandy skin stands out in this darkness. He reaches into his satchel with a quick swipe and shakes a brown corked bottle at me.
The mischief in his dark eyes is typical of our time spent alone. There was a time I hated him. Assumed he was just amindless fuck whose only ability was to carry his self-absorbed brain on his shoulders.
“Kass, I see you’re…you. So serious.”
I force my tense shoulders to ease.
“Give me a drink, you bastard.” A gravely laugh huffs out as I rip the bottle from his grasp and take a greedy gulp.
The tonic feels warm as it slides down my throat, it’s so much better than Rion’s piss excuse for port. The drink really should be called nectar of the gods because it acts as a salve on my prickly mood. My body grows heavier and I slump against a rock, my mind quieting.
With a lowered voice, Rune asks, “What’s wrong, old friend? I haven’t seen your eyes so shadowed in years.”
I pause and look at him. Study him. I haven’t felt this chaotic in thoughts in years, it’s true.
“Rion chased Alora into the woods today,” another swig of tonic and I continue on, “I don’t know if he found her out there, if she had somehow escaped, or if he was the reason she was out of there to begin with.”
Rune’s brows rise. His silence spurs me to continue.
“When I found them, he was on top of her and she was bloody.” This last part falls from my lips, leaving a hard smile plastered to my face.
“I see.” His voice is clipped.
I exhale a deep breath through my nose and lift my face to the cooling air.
“Is it Rion then that bothers you, or the girl?”
Frowning, I turn towards him. “Perhaps both, if I’m being honest, and that alone is most concerning.”
Rune is still, eyeing me, his expression unreadable.
I shift away as if to shield my thoughts. He can read me easily, as if he was a mapmaker and I, his inked parchment.
“Rion is a bastard. We both know that.” He grabs the bottle from me and takes a quick drink. “Did you bring her back?” His eyes spark with curiosity or concern, I assume the latter as we both know how displeased the king would be if she was lost to him.
“Of course I did, you idiot. She’s one reason we’re all in this crock of shit. The king can’t handle the fact his beloved kingdom isn’t kissing his fucking feet. She and the rest of The Hidden do everything to keep the tensions high.”
I turn to face him again. “I’m his loyal servant, as we all are. That’s the beginning and end. We don’t question, we do.” It’s taken Rune and me a long time to learn this unlike Orlin, who’s eagerness to be the favorite of King Euron is his very reason to exist.
Rune’s jaw ticks just before taking a long pull of the tonic. “We live to serve, that much is true.”
Silence between us draws on, letting the song of the night build with each passing beat.
The fall of an axe has my head snapping in the direction of the sound. Rune looks up at me from his kneeling position, axe in hand. Giving me a sardonic smile, he drops the tool again on a small log, cutting it into small pieces.
