We crawled forward at a painfully slow pace. I called out occasionally for my husband, desperate to fall into his arms. I’d have no qualms with him carrying me till my final breath right now.
From the position of the sun, it must have been late afternoon and we still hadn’t found the others, when Pab’s ears flattened, a low snarl flooding through him. I halted, my blood freezing at the thought of another diafol, when a figure prowled towards us.
Pab snarled, his barks setting the hairs on the back of my neck on edge, when the light hit the figure’s blurred face and I heaved a sigh. Ifan. I almost collapsed with relief.
‘Thank Evella,’ I said as he sheathed his sword, striding towards us. The wolf froze beneath me, his body trembling. ‘Stop it, Pab.’ I tugged on his fur. What was his issue with the prince?
My weak smile faded as Ifan’s sneering expression came into focus.
‘Ifan?’
He twisted, his boot slamming into Pablo’s side. The wolf spun, a guttural cry escaping my dry mouth as his skull slammed into a gnarled trunk with a sickening crack.
I stumbled, my broken feet splitting as I tried to reach him, when Ifan grabbed my wrist, yanked me up. My fist missed his chest. Fucker. I’d kill him. Screaming, I writhed in his arms as he led me to the ledge.
My gift. I had to reach inside. Get help. In desperation I grappled for the threads, silver, violet. I couldn’t give a shit as long as it killed him.
Then, he shoved his snarling face into mine.
‘Farewell, wolf queen,’ he said and, with a single snap, sent me hurtling into the abyss.
CHAPTER 31
As a member of the Guild of Diafol Hunters, you have sworn a solemn oath to Evella and The Alliance to protect our methods and secrets. You’ll be highly sought after, receiving lucrative payments for your services. Any who share our secrets outside the Guild will be punished by immediate death. Even royalty are not privy to our ways.
— LORD SILAS VANCOURE, SELECT INSTRUCTIONS FOR DIAFOL HUNTERS
The pain convulsing through my broken form told me I still lived. My eyes creaked open. Was it dark? Or had I cracked my skull, losing what little sight remained. Gasping, I breathed deeply, forcing myself to focus on what was real. What was tangible. The smell of rich earth floated up. My cheeks were damp, most likely from fallen leaves, so I was still in the woods. I swallowed and blinked, trying to wiggle my fingers. They obeyed, butfuckdid they hurt. My arms followed. Each move was met with a fresh wave of sickening torture. I lay, immobile, panting for a few moments. My ribs screamed as though a knifestabbed into my lungs with each breath. But still I breathed, still I lived.
Toes wriggled. Legs slid. I hissed as one ankle twisted. Methodically, I tested each shaking limb, before forcing myself onto all fours.
I remained there, my tangled hair hanging in clumps, saliva dripping from my mouth. I spat. I should check for blood in my phlegm, but I didn’t need any more problems.
I lived. I breathed and I moved. How? I couldn’t comprehend. My last memory had been rolling down a slope, striking saplings and rocks, as my arms twisted, desperate to lock on to something and hold on. Then, nothing. Till now.
Strangled shards of dim light illuminated the scene. I’d landed in a half-dead forest. Starved trees spread desperate boughs towards an indigo sky. Damp leaves rotted beneath my quivering palms. Dark, misshapen rocks littered the ground. And the wolf? Where was the wolf? I sobbed as the sound of his skull striking the tree echoed through my mind.
Perhaps he was unhurt. Perhaps he searched for me. I called his name but barely any sound came out. Shoving myself onto my thighs, I sat back, calling again.
The wind whispered secrets through the tumbling leaves, a solitary bird sang of love from the half-naked boughs, but there was no hint of the wolf. A sob racked through my body, stealing my breath and focus. Sitting on the damp earth, the chill biting my limbs, my ragged voice cried his name over and over, till the sun glowed her last through the creaking trees.
As darkness descended, I shuffled over to a silver birch and, gripping the trunk, hauled myself up. I could only hope he was injured and had crawled away to heal.
Putting weight on my twisted ankle, I stumbled, crying against the brittle tree trunk. There was no way I could stay here.I had to get away. Had to find Matthias before his treacherous brother did.
Why the prince had thrown me over the ledge was another matter entirely, and one I didn’t have time to consider now. What had he told Matthias? Would he even look for me if Ifan lied? Would Ifan console his brother? Wrap his arm around his grieving king with one hand, a dagger poised to rip his back open in the other?
‘I’ll kill him,’ I muttered, taking a shaky step. My ankle collapsed, and I gripped the trunk again, panting through the pain. A thick, gnarled branch caught my eye and a desperate laugh tumbled from my lips. Without the wolf, I truly did need a stick.
I limped over, falling again as I grabbed it, before hauling myself up once more and setting off through the trees. Muttering, ‘I’ll kill him,’ like a mantra was the only thing keeping me going, and I imagined more violent and gory ways to end the prince. I pressed a hand against my tender side, hissing at the pain, determined to break some of his ribs in return.
I pressed on, each jarring step sending a flash of pain through me as the trees thinned, the ground devoid of plants. The quiet swelled, pressing in and stealing my breath. Every few steps, I halted, straining for the barest hint of Matthias. Nothing. Not the cry of a crow or scamper of a mouse, the skitter of a bug. My rasping breath and the slide of my bleeding feet on the sodden ground, the only sign of a living being.
The night fell completely, and I faltered. The stick pressed into the ground, testing for obstacles, but I still stumbled every few steps. With a final cry, my body gave in and I propped my back against the rotting corpse of a long-dead tree.
I slipped in and out of a dreamless sleep. My mind constantly wandering back to the wolf and Matthias. I breathed against theache of their loss. The dryness of my mouth, the gnawing knot of my empty stomach told me I wasn’t going to last long out here.
I barked out a laugh. All those times I wanted to prove how independent I was…and now look at me. An all-powerful Deviant about to die of a myriad of afflictions – none of which were caused by the blight!
