Yet when the cloaked man pushed back his hood, my stomach fell to the frozen stones at my feet.
White hair.
If Kai was the embodiment of the sun with his dark locks, browned skin, and golden searing gaze, this man was themoon.His white hair tousled in a way that claimed they had seen trouble tonight already, the bruising along his cheekbone another indication. His pale skin nearly glowed sliver in the waning moonlight, but it was his eyes that struck me like a sword through the chest. Panic rippled to the tips of my fingers.
His right eye was a glinting pool of silver.
The other, the left, a radiant deep green that left my head spinning.
If his eyes weren’t confirmation enough, the golden ink that was tattooed upon his skin sealed it. His body was a writhing mess of them. I had once thought Kai had the most I had seen upon skin, but just looking at the ones that travelled up this man’s neck, nearly to his jawline, and down the back of his hands was enough to send my stomach rolling.
Kinslayer.
The shadows were insidious within me, writhing so violently I thought I would be sick upon the street.
Kinslayer. Kinslayer. Kinslayer.
Killer of brethren. Killer of sisters. Tear the treacherous eyes from his body, let us feast upon his blackened soul—
I slammed down upon them so quickly I nearly collapsed with vertigo, my vision swimming and my ears ringing.
I watched, as if from another body, as he moved towards the trembling Solerian man.
“Do you know my name?” Roan Delmar spoke, his voice low and soft, like sin incarnate. It crawled over my skin, prickling its way along and leaving a flush in its wake. The question was rhetorical, everyone knew The Kinslayers name. Still, he waited for the man to give a shaky nod. “Please, don’t stop on our account. What exactly were you saying about Solerianconverts?”
The shadows screamed within me, pushed down too far for their words to reach me, but I couldstillfeel them. Raging and clawing to escape the constraints of my mind.
A rush of breath left me when that multicolored gaze swung to me, something akin to a smirk dancing upon his lips. “Would you like his hands or his tongue for his insolence?”
My words caught in my throat, my head shaking, too stupified in my own terror to truly make sense of his question.
It was when one of the blades upon his back sung from its scabbard, that my wits came crashing into me with a single word.
“No!”
I rushed forward, stepping between the two men, my unsteady feet slipping on the wet stones, my fingers reaching to clutch the edges of his cloak to keep myself upright. My gaze caught his, hand snapping back to my side as if scalded–my breath quickened. I turned, and every instinct within my body trembled for giving my back to him.
Kinslayer. Kinslayer. Kinslayer.
The shadows screamed.
Yet I kept my eyes firmly locked upon the sick man before me. His fear became greater than his pride as I eyed the wetness of his trousers and the stain that quickly bloomed there.
The story of Roan Delmar reached every corner of Tavari, from the thick icy forests of the north, to the deserts and tropical cities of the south. Perhaps even beyond our own borders. There was not a Tavarrian citizen who had not heard some version of his tale, this man clearly included.
“Go home,” I reasoned as I kept my voice soft, comforting, “rest and if you give me your name, I swear by the Goddess that someone will come tomorrow to help ease your suffering.”
Without wasting even a second, the man was running, legs trembling and feet slipping as he turned around a corner and disappeared from view. He hadn’t given me his name, but I could hardly blame him; I wouldn’t have wanted to stay and face the ire of the Kinslayer either.
“Now why would you do that?” His voice spoke from behind, his amusement ghosting over the hairs of my neck. My spine straightened, so aware of the man as he moved even closer, his chest nearly brushing my back. “That was the most fun I’ve had all night.”
My blade slipped fully into view as the first sharp flash of fury sliced through my terror. Moonlight glinted upon the sharpened steel, turning as I held tight to the hilt, fingers nearly white. Not entirely a threat, but enough to let him know that I would not go down easily if he tried anything.
“That man wassick,”my correction was veiled in wrath, as sharp as the weapon within my grasp. “I was handling it perfectly well until the two of you showed up. Now he must run home with damp trousers, withouta coat, in the freezing cold. He will inevitably get sicker and I couldn’t even get his name—”
“Heattackedyou.” I could practically see the confusion that rolled over him in waves, the disbelief smothering whatever amusement he’d previously felt.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I let out a long hiss of air. “He was angry and scared. It’s not the first time something like this has happened, nor will it be the last. Desperation—the will to survive—can bring out the ugliest parts of humanity.” My hand fell back to my side, and I knew the deadened expression I must carry reflected the exhaustion I felt so deep within my bones. “He hadn’t hurt me and if he had tried I could have handled it. At least after he would’ve been able to get some care.”
