Page 15 of Unraveled
The winged beast from Penumbra glances over his shoulder and meets my gaze. His face twists with something I can’t place, and now more than ever, he looks more beast than man. The spell he throws at the bald creature that attacked me erupts in a plume of yellow and black.
The creature disintegrates right in front of my eyes. Cell by cell, it becomes ash.
I raise my chin as the beast slowly straightens. His golden markings flow thickly over his cheeks, like tears made of molten metal dripping to his chin.
He moves toward me with steps strangely fluid for a monster.
I press my back against a tree, and I know I can’t escape him again. He is so large, with massive shoulders that narrow to a small waist. Feathers cover every inch of his body. From his chest to his feet—no, not feet, but claws.
He extends his hand, and his brows pinch in the middle as he studies me. “Come now, Monster, you have played enough.” His voice is a low rumble that stirs something deep within me.
“Monster?” I echo. “Have you seen yourself in a mirror?”
“As a matter of fact, I haven’t in a while.” He tilts his head as he speaks. His gaze does not waver. “I don’t have time to waste in this place. This is your last warning. Come willingly and save some of your dignity.”
“Fuck you,” I snarl, my hands trembling with both fury and exhaustion. I don’t even feel pain anymore. “I will fight you until the end.”
My words hang between us, charged with my promise and his steely resolve. I knew he would come for me even if I wasn’t injured or tired. Beasts don’t cease their hunt, not even after their prey gets away the first time.
“If you think I’ll give you another opportunity to escape...” His voice is gravel wrapped in velvet, distorted somehow, different from how he sounded before. It’s as if each syllable dragged itself from the depths of his throat, scraping past those elongated, razor-sharp teeth that gleam with his golden magic.
I recoil back into the tree. But the world blurs, and space folds around us as he closes the distance with unnatural speed.He is upon me before I can think of an incantation strong enough to paralyze him.
Not that I could, even if I had any energy left.
His arms—like iron shackles—wrap around me, sending a jolt of pain through my body. I’m going to be sick, and I hope it would be all over him.
“Ah,” he murmurs, almost to himself, the ferocity melting from his face to reveal something unreadable underneath. “You’re hurt worse than I thought.” His golden gaze flicks over my shoulder to where the ashes of the bald creature remain, a neat pile on rotting leaves.
Disbelief threads through my fatigued mind. Is he concerned? Impossible. And yet, I can’t shake the odd feeling that this beast might not eat me tonight.
The sweet scent of pine envelops me as he kneels at my feet. How can all the other beasts feel like death, but he, in contrast, be so... alluring?
I despise it—despise him—for making me so powerless. With all the strength I can muster, I push against his chest, my hands sliding over the sleek texture of his velvet coat of plumage. “Don’t touch me!” My voice comes out hoarse, but at least I sound defiant, not afraid.
The beast doesn’t seem to hear, nor care about, my demands as he stands fluidly. He turns toward a sound in the distance, a clicking of jaws, and it’s approaching.
Then he reaches for me and lifts a brow when I flinch. “More lunargyres are coming. Unless you want to be their dinner, I suggest you cooperate.”
What the hell is a lunargyre? Is that what he calls the beasts?
The dry blood on my cheek cracks as I peel my lips over my teeth into a new snarl. “I would rather take my chances with the stupid beasts than you.”
“That’s enough now. You’re mine, Monster, and no other beast will have you tonight,” he says in a low, commanding tone. His words send a rush of warmth through my body I can’t decipher, but whatever it is, it has no business being there.
Then he reaches for me so fast I don’t have time to move away—not in my current condition. His touch is as light as a moth’s wing as he brushes one long finger across my forehead.
A sudden drowsiness cascades through me, heavy and irresistible. With laden lids, I glare at him, blinking slowly and trying to keep my eyes open, to resist whatever magic he used on me. When he lifts me from the ground, I can’t fight him.
It’s a similar spell to what he used back in Penumbra when he took me from the scientist quarters, but different.
“I don’t want you to use your trickery on me again,” he says, and surely, that apologetic look is only in my imagination.
He leaps gracefully onto one of the thickest branches overhead, and it groans under our weight. I clutch at his shoulders, hating how soft his feathers are under my hands.
“I’m not yours,” I whisper, more to myself than him.
But he tilts his head and observes me in silence before jumping to another branch, and then another, until we break through the canopy to where the air is fresh.
