A sound I could not claim.
Because it wasn’t mine, but the venom in my veins.
The Viper struck.
Fangs met flesh, rage and vengeance pouring as we drained and we tore. I couldn’t stop, didn’t stop, not as the world narrowed to the taste of moonlit blood singing down my throat like something forbidden.
Each swallow pulled me deeper, until there was nothing left but the hunger that owned us both.
Until strong hands wrenched me back and all that was left was the shell of a monster collapsing from my hands to the forest floor.
I spoke the words, the ones that followed my nightmares. Once for wrath.
Once to haunt. And once for the gods who failed me.
Steel hissed as Ronan sheathed his sword.
So, I said it once more, this time for him. “I am death.”
I gathered Zyran’s reins, steering him back through the forest's churned path. My eyes locked with Ronan’s, sorrow glinting in them for a fleeting moment before the usual savagery forced it down.
Neither horse spooked as we passed the shredded remains, but my breath stuttered, careful not to inhale the stench.
An Eldritch, Ronan had said they’re called. Rare and unstudied. Because who lived long enough to learn about one?
I hadn’t known Gus for long; he had become part of the Order only six months ago. Still, I felt the force of his death. Which meant the rest of the group would feel it even deeper.
Niveus drew alongside me, her pale coat stained with mud as Ronan murmured, softer than I expected, “He was a good man. I’m sure he fought bravely.”
Zyran sidestepped, ears pinning, and I stroked the sleek line of his neck, black as a starless midnight. “No one deserves that death.”
A rough laugh broke from him. “I could think of a few,” he admitted.
His tone was light, but his jaw was stone as he guided Niveus behind me on the narrowing trail.
Not in front of me...
Rain thickened just as my throat tightened, a thought clawing uncomfortably through. Zyran halted, muscles tense beneath me.
“He wasn’t supposed to go hunting today.” I shook my head, fingers tracing the dagger beneath my cloak.
Ronan’s reins drew taut. “What?”
I clutched the hilt. “Gus,” I said, hoping he didn’t catch the shake in my voice. “You askedmeto hunt, not him.”
Elva wasn’t feeling well, her body struggling against the endless trek. And Gus, bright-eyed and insistent, had offered to take my place. Ronan had hesitated. And then let him.
The trees widened as Niveus stepped beside me again and Ronan’s eyes caught mine, unreadable, but his hand pressed to his chest.
“And unfortunately for Gus, I’m glad he took your place.”
We’d managed a few days without threats. And still, his words burrowed like barbs.
Liar. He lies.
“Are you?”
His brows knit, like he wasn’t expecting a rebuttal. Like I’d asked something I wasn’t meant to. He didn’t answer at first, only shifted his attention toward the weeping sky.
