Page 24 of Daughter of Shadows and Ash

"Eager to die first?" Donovan's voice dripped with venom as he traced the dagger along my jawline, the cold steel a whisper away from drawing blood. "Will you beg for mercy? Plead for forgiveness?" His hot breath hissed in my ear, "Or maybe you'll service me before I cut your throat?" Bile rose as I realized - he meant to kill us both. I needed time, had to give Lucas a chance. I glimpsed him working his bonds while Jasper and Erick beat him, his face bruised and swollen.

"Eyes on me, " Donovan growled, his face inches from mine. "I want to savor the moment you realize death has come for you." The world exploded in pain as his fist connected withmy face. My nose went numb instantly. He rained blows and slashes upon me until I was nothing but a bloody, battered mess slumped in the chair. Through the haze of agony, I focused on working my wrists against the rope. If I could just free one hand, I might have a chance to distract him.

"Trying to escape, are we?" Donovan's voice was a feral growl as he hefted me, chair and all, and hurled me into one of the stable doors. Pain erupted through my body as wood splintered beneath me. Before I could even attempt to move, he was on me, his weight crushing the air from my lungs. His blade bit into my wrists, opening rivers of crimson. Fists rained down on my face and abdomen as he snarled, "Tell me, little mouse. Does death terrify you?"

To fear death the way Donovan sought in my eyes, one needed something worth living for. He searched for that desperate glimmer, that wordless plea to cling to life. But for me, death had long been a familiar shadow, a potential reunion with Grandmother and Maël. I'd spent countless nights wondering about the afterlife, imagining my village existing beyond the veil, untouched by tragedy. Part of me hoped Maël had been with me all along, but that would deny him his eternal peace. Whatever awaited me in death, I would face it unflinching. But it would not come at the hands of this brutish, one-eyed thug.

"No," I spat, a mouthful of blood splattering across Donovan's face. My lips curled into a crimson smile as I locked eyes with him. "To fear death, I'd need something to live for. Death and I are old friends. I'll embrace him gladly when he comes." With the last reserves of my strength, I called upon the darkness. It rushed in, a tide of impenetrable black that swallowed everything. In that moment of blindness, my dagger found Donovan's throat, its starlight blade a ghostly shimmer in the void. A wet gurgle, then the sudden absence of his weight told me he'd fallen, his life pooling beneath him. I summonedshadows to wrap my bleeding wrists and legs, a feeble attempt to stem the flow. When I reached Lucas, Jasper and Erick were gone, likely fled in the chaos of Donovan's demise. I sliced through Lucas's bonds and dispelled the darkness. He was battered and bruised, but alive.

"What in the hells was that?" Lucas's eyes widened as they fell on Donovan's lifeless form. "Did you—" His words trailed off as his head lolled back.

"We need to leave. Now." I hauled Lucas to his feet, wrapping my arm around his waist and bracing him against my shoulder. Together, we stumbled out of the blood-soaked barn.

Chapter 19

The journey back dragged on endlessly, with us barely able to take a full stride between the two of us. I silently prayed we'd make it back. Lucas didn't deserve to suffer for my reckless mouth.

The rhythmic thudding of horse hooves sounded behind me. I closed my eyes, begging for it to be someone who would go right past us, not noticing our bleak state. My silent prayers weren't answered as they slowed beside us, and I peered over to find a silver-haired man on the bench of the wagon.

"Aye, you look like you could use a ride." The man didn't gawk at our bloody state. "Climb in, I can take ye up the road."

I shook my head. "That's okay, we're fine."

"Lass, you're bloody well not fine. I won't ask again, and I won't ask about what happened. Just don't get any ideas about robbing me."

I sighed. It was clear he wasn't going to leave us alone if we continued as we were. I helped Lucas up onto the bench and sat beside him, my hand poised on my leg, ready to draw a weapon.

"What brings you out so late, you know the roads are dangerous. I've heard there's bandits out here." I tried to keep my voice calm.

"I don't think bandits are interested in books, girl. Plus, I've been traveling this way to visit my sister for years now. Never have I come across anyone unsavory."

He eyed Lucas, who was now passed out on my shoulder. "Is your friend alive?"

"Yeah, just got into a fight he couldn't win."

The old man chuckled. "I know what that's like."

"So you're a book merchant?" I asked, my fingers itching to browse his collection. Books were my weakness, and even in this dire situation, I couldn't help my curiosity.

"Aye, are you needing anything?" We reached the top of the road where the two diverging paths took you to town or the manor respectively. He pulled the carriage to a stop and helped me wake Lucas up enough for him to stand.

I passed him my pouch of coin. "I'll take whatever this will get me."

He weighed the pouch in his hands before digging through his wares, pulling out a blue leather volume. "Keep your coin, consider it a gift. Try not to let your friend start any more fights." He handed me the book and my coin pouch back, and I tucked them in my bag before grabbing hold of Lucas. I called out a thanks as the old man took off into the night.

"I'm so sorry, Lor," Lucas mumbled.

"I'm sorry, Lucas." I huffed as I kept just moving towards the gates. We were almost there. "I guess we're friends now, huh?"

He let out a painful laugh. "You're not getting rid of me that easily."

I laughed as I dragged us through the property and through the doors. The weight of Lucas against my side had become familiar in our trek, like carrying a wounded brother. I wasn't sure which room was his, so I brought him to mine to mend him. The soft glow of candlelight cast dancing shadows across his battered face as I settled him at my desk, thankful he wasmore awake than he had been. My hands trembled slightly as I grabbed bandages, ointment, and a rag from my drawers, the reality of the night's events finally catching up to me. With gentle movements born of practice I didn't know I had, I began cleaning his wounds.

The battered man winced as I slathered the ointment on his open cuts. My hands shook slightly as I worked, guilt gnawing at my chest with each pained breath he took. "Is it too late to discuss the fun part of the evening?" A hoarse chuckle from his chest betrayed he's trying not to appear as hurt as he is. Purple bruises bloomed across his ribs where I dabbed the cloth, and he flinched each time I found another hidden cut beneath his torn shirt.

"What do you mean? This is the fun part." I replied dryly, though my heart ached knowing I'd brought this violence upon him. Finally finishing wrapping his wounds, I helped him onto the bed.

"Now this is what I'm talking about," he murmured as he let out a heavy sigh as he drifted off to sleep, his body succumbing to exhaustion. The pain etched across his face slowly melted away, replaced by the peaceful expression of deep slumber.

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