Page 8 of Claimed By Midnight

The carriage lurches forward again, magic crystals pulsing as Uriel guides us higher into the mountains. I focus on my breathing, on maintaining some control.

Fear is natural. Fear is useful. But fear cannot rule you.

He grins, and I'm surprised when he says, "You really are a little demon, through and through." I narrow my eyes at him, but his smirk only grows. I don't think it's an insult, shockingly.

My wrists ache where the new restraints bite into flesh, but I keep my face neutral. Each moment I deny him the satisfaction of seeing me crumble is a small victory. Each second I maintain composure is a tribute to my family's strength.

I turn toward the window, refusing to give him the engagement he seeks. The mountain peaks pierce the clouds liketeeth, feeling as deadly as this trip is. But I'll bide my time. Wait for the right moment. And I'll find my freedom.

The magic in the restraints pulses stronger, almost like it's responding to my thoughts. I file that observation away, adding it to my mental catalog of everything I've learned about my captor and his methods. Knowledge is its own form of power.

Let Uriel think he's won. Let him believe the restraints have broken my spirit. Every assumption he makes is another crack in his armor, another potential weakness to exploit. I may be bound, but I am far from beaten.

5

URIEL

The portal's magic fizzles around us as we emerge on the other side, the zarryn stomping and snorting their displeasure at the magical transportation. But it is much faster than going on a ship and I can bring them with me this way.

I grip the reins tighter, steadying the silver-coated beasts. Their dual tails whip in agitation, but a sharp word has them falling back in line. The carriage rocks as we transition from the portal's surface to the packed dirt road leading to the town just outside my estate.

"Almost there," I say, watching Athena from the corner of my eye.

She sits rigid beside me, her honey-blonde curls whipping in the wind. Now that we are off her home continent, she looks flat out angry. Even with her obvious resistance to my magic trying to draw her closer, she maintains perfect posture. Impressive.

The landscape opens up before us - rolling hills dotted with ancient trees, their branches reaching toward the twilight sky. Magic flows through this land like blood through veins, currents I've spent centuries mapping and mastering. I feel each ebb and flow, every surge and whisper of power.

I'm so glad to be back home, where the whole damn place isn't the dreary color of mud. I detest going to Ikoth.

The zarryn's hooves click against the cobblestone as we approach the town. A cruel smile tugs at my lips as I watch Athena. The fact that she can resist my magic in my own territory, where my power runs deepest, proves that. The human girl is far more intriguing than I initially thought.

The zarryn draw the carriage in the crowded streets. It will take me longer to navigate this, but I don't mind the proximity a little longer. Magic swirls around us - my power trying to draw her closer, her will pushing back against it. The air crackles with the tension.

I reach for the carriage's control runes, working on a spell that will help give us a wider berth through the city. The familiar burn of magic tingles beneath my skin as I trace the ancient symbols.

Athena shifts beside me, her movements too deliberate. In the split second before my fingers complete the last rune, she strikes. Her elbow slams into my ribs - not enough to hurt, but the precision of the blow catches me off guard. She's been watching, learning the exact moment when the carriage's protective wards are weakest, when the shift in me reworking on changes the binding spell momentarily.

The spell sputters, magic crackling through the air as she vaults over the side. Her boots hit the cobblestones with practiced grace, and she's running before I can grab her. Clever girl.

Blood pounds in my ears as I watch her weave through the crowd. She moves like water through the sea of bodies, each step calculated. No wasted movement. No panicked fleeing. This isn't some desperate escape attempt - she's had this planned.

My wings unfurl as I leap from the carriage, but the narrow streets and market crowds make flight impossible. I'm forcedto pursue on foot, shoving past merchants and customers alike. Their curses fade into background noise as I track her golden curls through the throng.

She darts down an alley, disappearing into the shadows. When I round the corner, she's already scaling a stack of crates, using them to reach a low-hanging balcony. Her fingers find purchase on decorative stonework as she pulls herself higher.

"Impressive." The word escapes through clenched teeth. Even with her hands still bound together, Athena moves with the fluid grace of someone who has rehearsed this moment countless times in their mind.

She reaches the rooftop and sprints across the uneven tiles. I launch myself upward, wings spreading just enough to carry me to the roof's edge. My boots crack several tiles as I land. She's already two buildings ahead, leaping across a narrow gap between structures.

The chase carries us deeper into the market district. She uses washing lines and awnings to slow her descent, dropping back to street level where the buildings grow too far apart. Smart - she knows I'd have the advantage if she stayed on the rooftops too long.

For several heartbeats, she vanishes completely into the crowd. My teeth grind together as I scan the sea of faces below. Then I spot her, ducking into a covered bazaar. She's heading for the warren of back alleys and hidden courtyards that honeycomb this part of the city.

If she makes it there, even I might lose her in that maze. The thought sends a surge of both fury and admiration through my veins. No one has challenged me like this in centuries.

I stalk through the market with measured steps, letting the distance between us grow. Her escape holds my attention like a well-choreographed dance. Each move calculated, each turn precise. She slips between market stalls with the grace of flowingwater, never knocking over a single display or stumbling over the uneven cobblestones.

My wings twitch with the urge to snatch her from above, but I hold back. I'm having too much fun, and I like seeing the way her mind works. I'll stop her before she gets too far, though.

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