Page 41 of Bound By Darkness

I stood, my movement sluggish as if I were wading through Valixina’s swamps.

My heart thundered with each step against the brown fabric—the fabric I now realized was not brown by design, but brown from the stains of death.

She licked her lips, her nails chipping the wood underneath. “And I’m so hungry,” she hummed, her nostrils flaring. “Your blood smells ancient, along with the sturdy bones of your body.”

Taking another step back, my fingers fumbled for the entrance behind me as I kept my eyes on the silent predator. “Apologies. Seems I must be headed out.”

The witch smiled, the tentenveloping in a thick blanket of darkness. “I can’t let such willing prey leave. At least not until I’ve licked your bones clean.”

My heart fluttered as I blankly stared ahead, my eyes refusing to adjust to the darkness. Turning around, I fumbled with the drapes, but the opening did not appear no matter how much I yanked on the thick fabric. The pounding in my ears grew deafening as I listened for any sounds or movement indicating her position from where I stood.

Stand and listen.

Listen and stand as night poured into the still tent.

Reaching inside my boot, I pulled out a dagger. It had been my favorite among the collection of weapons sitting in the glass case at the cabin. Etched in the silver metal were whorls of gold that caught the faelight if angled correctly. It was Gwen’s final parting gift. Not even Ivan knew I had it, and I wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible.

Gripping it tightly, I waved it back and forth, hoping it hit her flesh before she hit mine. I’d never been more thankful for a gift than this one as I stumbled through night itself.

Her laughter floated around the tent, the sound omnipotent as it lingered by my ears. It took everything to resist covering them as my hand shook with the outstretched dagger.

“I smell your fear. Let it consume you,” she purred. “It has such a wonderful taste.”

I swung, but the blade sliced through the air.

Nothing.

Curses flowed in my head. Death would find me if I didn’t find her first.

“Goodbye, you beautiful little thing,” she purred as the lights flashed.

Her mouth widened as she lunged, her teeth dripping with saliva as she angled them at my neck.

She was too fast, and I was too late.

A screech erupted in the room as she flew back, the table crumpling underneath her weight.

“Cursed wards!” she bellowed, stumbling among the jagged pieces of wood and tattered fabric.

The witch launched herself off the broken splinters, her mouth opening and snapping shut as she reached for any part of my exposed flesh.

Her body did not meet mine.

It slammed into the floor, a hiss escaping her blood-red lips as a glimmer of silver dissipated into the thick air.

“You,” she spewed, droplets of black sinking into the carpet. “This is not over.”

Light filtered into the room, a gentle breeze billowing in from the opened drapes.

Black blood dripped from her fingertips. “I will find you again when those wards fail you,” she hissed. “I will not hesitate to rip the skin from your bones and collect what is mine.” Her shaky hand raised in the air as an icy chill consumed the tent. Hollow laughter echoed from her mouth. “You are cursed. You will be our ruin as the gods dictate it so.” A smile curled across her lips. “I curse you, caster.”

My lips parted, but a flood of black slammed toward me, the impact heavy as it collided with the ripple of silver. Air refused to fill my lungs as I scrambled against the paved streets?—

The tent was gone and with it, the witch.

I didn’t wait if she’d return or change her mind. I bolted through the empty streets as her declarations rattled in my head.

You are cursed. You will be our ruin.

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