Page 66 of Lore of the Wicked Wood
Shivering, Everinne tugged her coat around her, bundling herself into the fur-lined leather. The walk home wasn’t far, but with the frigid wind barreling into her, each step was a fight. Like walking through a strand of wet sand along the shore. She looked up at the night sky, disappointed to find the moon wasn’t visible. Instead there was just a thick layer of silvery clouds. Tucking her chin to her chest, she gritted her teeth against the harsh slap of wind, until the noisy click of her boots against cobblestone was the only sound keeping her company.
A chill that had nothing to do with the cold slid its icy fingers down her spine.
She stilled, glancing around her.
Eerie swatches of darkness seemed to stare back at her. It was oddly quiet. There was no thump of music, no warped conversations flowing out of open doors and cracked windows, enticing people inside. Even the lanterns lining the cobblestone streets appeared to waver and fade, as though they would be snuffed out at any moment.
Wrong.
The word whispered to the forefront of her mind.
This was all wrong.
She hastened her pace, and even though there was no sound of footfalls echoing behind her, she couldn’t erase the feeling of being followed. Of being tracked. Of beinghunted.
That tiny voice inside of her pitched with panic.
Run!
Everinne ran. Her legs pumped as she bolted around the next corner, hoping to find someone, anyone, who might be willing to help her. But it was as though the whole of Starysa had been deserted. The penetrating darkness gained on her, closing the distance between them until she could feel the cold kiss of death along the back of her neck. Terror soared inside of her, awakening the callous magic that slithered through her veins as the threads of her control unraveled.
She opened her mouth to scream and was snatched by the hands of violence.
Her head slammed against a wall of hard stone, snapping back with such force, dizzying stars danced in front of her eyes and her vision blurred. Pain speared from the base of her neck, all the way down her spine. Gruff, muffled voices bounced off the dark alley, but she couldn’t focus on the indistinct shapes of her attackers. Her arms were pinned over her head, and a knee had been shoved between her thighs, forcing them apart. Someone yanked her hair and she yelped, tears springing at the corner of her eyes, but she blinked, refusing to let them fall.
A face swam before her, the eyes too difficult to see in the thick shadows surrounding them, but a fracture of light highlighted the scrape of scruff lining his jaw and the scar above his mouth. She struggled against his hold, but he only leaned in closer, pressing his full weight against her until the stone bit into her back and she thought her lungs would collapse.
He grabbed her cheeks, pinching, jerking her face up to him. “Well, well. If it isn’t the fae who likes to drink and fuck. Looks like you’ve found yourself in a bit of a bind.”
“Let me go.” Everinne’s voice was a harsh whisper, grating like nails scouring coarse brick. Her magic seethed, black and violet shadowy tendrils crawled from her fingertips like phantom hands of death.
“Or what?” he taunted, his mouth twisting into a crooked sneer.
Mocking laughter filled her ears, heightening the pulse of her anger.
“Or I’ll kill you,” she snapped, baring her teeth.
He chuckled mirthlessly. “I’d like to see it.”
Then his mouth slashed across hers and he forced his slimy tongue between her lips. That same sardonic laughter raked through Everinne’s mind, and she bit down, sinking her slightly sharp canines into his tongue, until the metallic tang of his blood filled her mouth.
The man screamed, ripping away from her. He threw her aside, scarlet pouring down his chin and neck. She stumbled forward and spat, then whipped around to face her attackers. Five figures loomed before her, large, beastly men, dressed in hooded cloaks. They thought they could take what they wanted from her, they thought they could berate her,violateher…and think they would live to tell the tale. But they were sadly mistaken. There would be no mercy tonight. Only death.
“Fucking bitch!” he roared, stalking toward her like predator to prey. “I’ll slit your throat for that.”
Everinne wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, and the power of torment inside her smiled. “You can try.”
Dark magic lashed out like a feral, caged beast, tearing through the fraying tethers of Everinne’s control. It consumed her being, sweeping through her like a storm of violence and chaos. Shadows of midnight and deep violet consumed the alley, devouring the space, slithering around two of the hooded men whose eyes had gone wide with panic. Even in the sickly, dim light, she could see the ghastly pallor of their terrified faces. Snarling, her magic speared each of them, splintering their bones, crushing their lungs. Blood moved like sludge through their veins, their garbled screams muffled by the pulse of power squeezing around their hearts.
Everinne could taste their pain, sweet and thick like honey.
She stretched one arm out, palm up, then slowly closed each of her fingers. Her shadows mimicked the motion, the sinewy phantoms sinking like claws into the frenzied minds of the two men. Apathetic and jaded, she watched their bodies contort and writhe as the agony she inflicted only increased.
She clenched her fist.
They crumpled to the ground, lifeless.
Three.
