“Hide yourselves,” Aden said, “and do not come out. They’re here for me. I’ll show myself, then lead them on a chase through the woods.”
“No!” Luca replied. “That’s the stupidest plan I’ve ever heard. Bar this door from the inside.” He grabbed a table and started dragging it to block the double doors.
Aden grabbed the other end of the table, practically lifting the entire thing from the ground by himself. The old man was right; he and Blanca would be safer if they mob could not get inside at all. He frantically threw furniture in front of the door.
When nothing else could fit, Aden turned to see Blanca standing behind him with a frying pan in one hand and a wood ax in the other. She handed the ax to Luca.
“Would you like a weapon, Your Highness, or do you prefer to use your claws?” she asked, as calmly as if she were offering him a cup of tea.
Aden brandished his built-in weapons. The long claws slid out, fierce and ready. “Claws, thank you,” he responded.
The crowd could be heard clearly now, marching toward the house, shouting and yelling in the kind of rousing ardor that only an angry crowd could conjure.
Aden looked from his claws to the stalwart warriors defending the barricade.
The three of them did not stand a chance. He did not want them to fight for him. His life was at its end; he could not let his curse spread any further. He did not want to fight any of the angry villagers at all. They did not know what they were doing. They likely thought they were heroically defending their families.
“I’m going to lead them off,” he said. “Don’t let Warrior follow me.”
Before they could try to stop him, he raced down the hall to his small bedroom. He grabbed the rose from its jar of water and placed it in his teeth. Throwing open the window, he climbed out and dropped to the front courtyard below. He had planned to run out the front gate, letting them see him and then leading them on a chase deep into the woods where he could outpace them.
But they were already at the front gate, pouring into the courtyard.
“Follow me!” a familiar voice yelled. “I will lead you to the beast!” Macklin the Cowardly ran toward the front entrance of the villa.
Aden could not see his movements, but he assumed the man had attempted to open the locked door as he started pounding on it moments later.
“We are here for the beast!” Macklin yelled out, as much for his followers as for the inhabitants of the villa. “Turn him over to us and no harm will come to you.”
“Get lost!” Blanca called from inside the building.
Macklin and the men around him threw themselves against the door. The old wood groaned in response.
Knowing that the makeshift barricade would not hold for long, Aden looked up at the wall of the villa and leapt into the vines.
“It’s him! I see the beast!” a voice yelled out from below.
Another voice screamed in terror at the mere sight of him.
Something clattered against the stone wall next to him. Aden didn’t stop to find out what it was. He only increased the speed of his climb. In a few moments, he was standing on the top of the roof. He ran toward the area above the front door, stooping low to the ground as other objects whirred past his head. Removing the rose from his teeth, he slipped it down his shirt.
“Here I am, Macklin the Cowardly!” Aden yelled when he stood above the double doors. “Have you come to hunt or be hunted?”
The mob roared in delight at his challenge. “Kill the beast! Kill the beast!”
Aden stepped back from the ledge. The bright torches below muddled his vision, forcing him to see only shadow and light.
“She will be mine, you cursed monster.” Macklin’s voice spewed his hatred as he climbed up the vines, following Aden to the roof.
“She is her own,” Aden said, his voice not meant to carry to the crowd. “So, I doubt that she will ever be yours.” He knew he was playing with fire, but he could not resist poking the cowardly man who had left the woman he supposedly loved to fend off a beast on her own.
“Luckily for you,” Macklin responded, climbing over the top of the roof, “you won’t live past this night to know what happens to her.” He reached behind him, keeping his face turned toward Aden. Hands from below passed up a sturdy spear.
“You don’t have to do this,” Aden said. “I will disappear into the forest, and you will never hear from me again.”
“Who’s the coward now?” Macklin sneered.
“I don’t think you truly know what that word means,” Aden responded. For a fleeting moment, his mind considered letting Macklin have his way. Death by the sword would be quick and controlled. But Aden knew he could not go down without a fight. And no man, cowardly or brave, deserved to be on the receiving end of his fierce claws.
