Page 14 of Bite Sized Bride
I hit it again. And again. I am lost in the red grief, my roars turning to ragged, guttural sobs. I am destroying the thing that made me remember, because the memory is a torture far worse than any of Vexia’s instruments.
“Stop!”
A small voice cuts through my rage. Mikana.
I freeze, my fist raised for another blow. I turn to look at her. She is huddled at the edge of the grove, her face pale with terror, her dark eyes wide with a fear I have not seen since the temple. She is afraid ofme.
The realization is a douse of icy water on the red fire. I have frightened her. My peace. My property. My… Mikana.
The strength drains from my limbs. I stumble back from the battered tree, my chest heaving, the grief a raw, open wound.
And then, I see him.
He is standing by the trees, not thirty feet away. A dark elf scout. He must have been drawn by my roars. He is young, his face still holding a trace of adolescent softness, but his eyes are hard and cruel. He wears the light leather armor of a tracker, a bow held ready in his hand. He is staring at me, his mouth slightly agape, a look of horrified disbelief on his face.
He has seen me. He will report back to the master. He will lead them to us. He will lead them toher.
The grief inside me curdles, twisting into something else. Something cold and hard and deadly. The red storm focuses, not on the pain of the past, but on the threat of the present.
I move.
The scout fumbles for an arrow, his eyes wide with panic. He is too slow. I cross the grove in three massive strides. He does not even have time to scream.
My hand closes around his head. His skull is a fragile, bird-like thing in my grasp. I squeeze. There is a sickening, wet crunch. His body goes limp, his bow clattering to the forest floor.
I stand there for a moment, the scout’s lifeless body dangling from my hand. The red storm is quiet again, sated by the kill. The grief is still there, a dull, heavy ache, but it is manageable now. I have done what a warrior does. I have eliminated a threat. I have protected my… what is she?
I look at her. She is still standing by the grove, her hand pressed to her mouth, her eyes fixed on the dead scout. She is trembling.
My fragmented mind struggles to make sense of it. I have protected her. I have provided for her. A warrior brings trophies back from the hunt. A proof of his strength. A gift for his… for his mate.
The thought is a lightning strike. It is wrong. It is impossible. But it feels… right.
I do not know the customs of this new, broken world. I only know the ghost of the old one. I do what the warrior in my memory would have done.
With my free hand, I grip the scout’s neck. I twist. The sound of tearing sinew and snapping vertebrae is loud in the quiet grove. The head comes free in my hand.
I walk toward her. She shrinks back, her eyes wide with a horror so profound it is a physical force. She does not understand.
I stop before her. I hold out my offering. The scout’s head dangles from my fist, his platinum hair dark with blood, his eyes staring at nothing. It is a trophy. It is a promise.I will kill for you. I will keep you safe.
She makes a choked, gagging sound and stumbles backward, falling to the ground. She scrambles away from me, crab-walking through the mud and leaves, her face is a mask of pure, unadulterated terror.
She is rejecting my gift. She is rejectingme.
The pain of it is sharper than any blade. The empty space inside me threatens to swallow me whole. The memory, the precious, painful memory of my name, of my chieftain, begins to fade, slipping through my grasp like smoke.
No. I cannot lose it. I cannot losemeagain.
I drop the head. It lands in the dirt with a soft thud. I press my hands to the sides of my own head, as if I can physically hold the memory in place.
“Kael,” I rasp, the sound a raw tear in my throat.
I say it again, louder this time, a desperate prayer against the encroaching emptiness. “Kael.”
I begin to chant, my voice a harsh, rhythmic growl. “Kael. Kael. Kael. Kael.”
I am a monster. I am a beast. I am a broken thing. But I have a name.
