Chapter fifty-three
Harkin
Ayla crumpled to the ground, a creature upon her in an instant. Its fangs sank into the soft flesh of her neck, and she writhed in an attempt to free herself. A moan of agony escaped her when she only succeeded in further tearing her own throat.
Safiya was the first of them to arrive at Ayla’s side. She slashed at the creature's head with a blade, striking it across its pointed ear.
It dislodged from Ayla, darting away with inhuman speed and hissing all the way.
“Goddesses, damn it,” Seren cursed, drawing her own blade and running toward her cousin, who lay bleeding on the ground. “What the hell is that thing?”
“Vámpír…” Théo breathed, shock and horror on his face as he glanced between his friend and the creature.
I remained close to Seren as she fell to her knees beside Ayla. She tore the hem off her cloak, pressing the fabric firmly to Ayla’s bleeding throat.
My eyes jumped back up as the Vámpír circled us, stalking and sniffing at the air. Its eyes were black and depthless, its skin leathery. It appeared to have once been human, which lined up with the legends I had heard of the undead creatures.
I had not truly believed the stories were true.
The Vámpír emitted a strange noise, somewhere between screeching and clicking. Branches snapped behind us, and I turned to see two more of the creatures stalking through the trees.
I cursed, palming my dagger in one hand and summoning my mágik with the other. Fear radiated off my friends, and I sent a wave of calm and determination over their emotions. I wished I could use that particular ability on myself. The balance between fear and confidence could be the determining factor in this game of life and death.
My heart thundered in my chest as I sprang forward, angling my body between the Vámpír and Seren. I slashed when one approached, but its movements were so fast, so fluid—so unlike the Sziravit we had fought the night before with their stilted movements.
Vámpír were terrifying, I decided.
I summoned a blast of wind, knocking the creature off its course. Safiya and Théo backed me up, taking turns striking as I knocked the creatures off balance.
Safiya looked at me, and with a nod, I traded places with her. She split the rock with her will, sending sharp fragments into the creatures’ bodies. While it slowed them down, nothing seemed to stop them.
Théo cursed—the first time I had ever heard him do so—and broke for the trees.
“Stab them through the heart with a wooden stake!” Théo shouted. The Vámpír continued their assault while he wrestled a tree branch.
I let out a shaky breath and attacked again, always making sure Seren was safely positioned between the statue and myself.
Sweat dripped along the line of my brow despite the frigid winter night. My limbs were dead tired, while the Vámpír only appeared to become further invigorated in their growing bloodlust.
Théo returned just as one of the monsters bared down upon me, puncturing its chest with the sharp end of a tree branch. The creature choked and struggled, grasping at the wood which impaled its heart. It sputtered and collapsed, claws raking a parting blow across my ribs and spitting thick blood upon my face.
I wheezed against the pain. The cut was deeper than I’d like, pulling and gushing blood with my every inhale.
It was a small mercy that the Vámpír was dead, sickening limbs already shriveling with decay, but the others still clicked their approach.
“A little help, please!” Safiya called. She was pinned between the two remaining Vámpír, her fear cutting through my mágik in its sharpness.
I accepted the branch Théo held out to me. Together, we rushed the creatures. Safiya used her mágik to summon the tree's roots, pinning the Vámpír to the cold ground. In tandem, Théo and I pierced the creatures' hearts, ending it once and for all.
We stood there for a moment, breathing heavily.
Blood rushed through my veins, too fast.
“Harkin!” Seren called. She was helping Ayla to her feet.
The princess was paler than usual, a bit unsteady on her feet, but the blood made a slow retreat—no longer gushing with urgency from her wound. Théo rushed to her, pulling the fabric away to examine her neck.
Two puncture wounds from the Vámpír’s fangs were visible, but the blood was already clotting. “I’m alright. I think.”
