Page 2 of Fury of the Bound
The blade came down again, faster this time, and my mother’s cry shattered the silence. The desperate, anguished sound tore through my soul.
I gripped the floorboards beneath me, fighting the urge to give in to the gut-wrenching sobs threatening to tear me apart. My heart shattered with every second that passed, knowing I couldn’t help her. Couldn’t save her from the monsters she had fought so hard to protect me from.
I couldn’t see my mother from here. All I saw was the monster who had relished killing her, trying to find me. His face burned itself into me, carved deep into memory, a nightmare I would never escape.
Magnus.
In the quiet aftermath, the only thing I could hear was my own broken breath and the distant sound of her final, laboured exhale. Time seemed to freeze as they ravaged the room, treating my mother’s body like it was nothing.
Discarded and forgotten, as if she were nothing but dirt beneath their boots. I felt trapped in a nightmare, unable to move or breathe. But the magic my mother had used to hide me held strong, and as I waited for what felt like an eternity, they finally left.
My heart shattered, and my world crumbled around me as I peeled the trapdoor open. I crawled toward her, desperation fueling my every movement, and gently rolled her onto her back. My breath caught as I saw blood pooling around her, seepingfrom her lips, and I sobbed as I cradled her. My body trembled with the weight of it all. Her blood soaked into my clothes as I held her close. My arms shook, unable to let her go. I promised her I would stay hidden and carry on without her. And I swear, with every last breath in me, I will… for now.
Chapter 1
RAVENA
Velmore hasn’t changed much since I last set foot here seven years ago, when I ran and lost everything. Now, I find myself back in the heart of the whispering woods, where the air hums with old magic. The forest is breathtaking this time of year. Towering trees with fiery red and burnt orange leaves stretching towards the heavens, their branches tangled in a canopy of Autumn flames. A crystal-clear stream winds through the woodland, its waters shimmering like liquid silver under the moon's glow. The soft murmur of the current, paired with the rustling of leaves, fills the air with a lullaby only the forest can sing.
At night, the sky is a masterpiece, the midnight velvet dusted with stars, their cold light reflecting off the water in a dance of silver and blue. The moon, vast and unyielding, casts an ethereal glow over the land, illuminating the creatures that roam freely. Mythical beasts move in quiet harmony, shadowy figures with gleaming eyes, their forms blending into the wilderness.
These creatures are unicorns with manes like woven moonlight, Lumiwolves whose fur glows like embers in the dark, and Shadowstags with antlers that shimmer like crystal. do not belong to any witch. These creatures do not belong to any witch or being in this realm. They are wild, untamed, and ancient, only belonging to the forest.
Phantom lynxes prowl the underbrush, and their translucent forms flicker in and out of sight. Dusk Wyverns glide soundlessly between the treetops, their scales reflecting twilight hues. Sylphfoxes dart through the foliage, leaving trails of stardust in their wake, their laughter like the wind's whisper.
These creatures are free. It is a rare thing in a realm where power claims everything.
Witches have a hierarchy when it comes to creatures, considering many of them are weak or unworthy to be their familiars. Only the most formidable beings earn their respect, including fearsome basilisks, gryphons, minotaurs and chimaeras.
Dragons who were once majestic and untamed creatures, powerful enough to shake the skies and command the elements. However, their reign ended in fire and blood during the Ashen war, wiping them from existence. Their once-mighty kind is now reduced to nothing more than whispers in forgotten legends
It was midnight when I slipped back into the whispering woods, my cloak heavy with the scent of night air and stolen moments. I have just returned from Astrithial, the capital of Velmore, where I existed as nothing more than a ghost. Unseen, unknown, and I’m perfectly content with that.
I only dared to step into the city when necessity demanded for it. Food, supplies, and the occasional book to keep my sanity intact. Always under the cover of darkness, when the streets were empty, and eyes that could ruin me were shut tight in sleep. To have a normal life would be the dream, to destroy the people who were a threat to me and were involved in my mother’s death, but that’s all it was, a dream.
Tonight had drained me more than usual. I hadn’t expected to run into hunters that were lurking far too close to the Whispering Woods. They had no reason to be here; this place belonged to the wild, to the creatures that are untamed andunclaimed by witches. Yet there they were, blades gleaming under the moonlight, their presence a reminder that nowhere was genuinely safe.
I’d been forced to cast a shielding spell to stay hidden, and it had drained me more than it should have. I was a powerful witch, at least I should have been, but whatever spell my mother had cast on me all those years ago had locked away most of my magic. A cruel kind of protection. One that left me vulnerable and weak.
So, I adapted. If I couldn’t rely on magic, I had to rely on something else. Over the years, I learned to fight, and I’d gotten damn good at it if I do say so myself. Survival demanded it. A woman in Zyphora, the shifter realm, had taught me how. And while I wouldn’t go as far as calling her a friend, she was probably the closest thing I had to one.
She had earned a sliver of my trust, which was more than I could say for anyone else. And considering I’ve been away from her for some time now and hadn’t been hunted down yet, I figured that was a good sign.
Pressed against the rough bark of a tree, I held my breath as a hunter scanned the darkness of the woods. The moonlight caught on his face, illuminating his features I knew all too well. My chest tightened with an unfamiliar warmth as I took him in. Ash blonde hair tied back, piercing hazel-green eyes that missed nothing, and a strong, tanned frame built for the hunt. A dusting of stubble shadowed his jawline, making him look a little rugged, almost deceptively human.
Darian Wolfe.
A name whispered in fear, a man known for his merciless efficiency. He was a predator, a force to be reckoned with. Ruthless, unforgiving and a complete control freak, any vampire unfortunate enough to cross his path met only one fate: death.
Very different to the boy I once knew.
Hunters served the Anelite council, four powerful witches who ruled a different faction in Velmore. They all bowed to Vesperas' rules, for she was the queen of this realm. They were revered, feared and utterly useless in my eyes. When my mother needed them most, they turned their backs on her without a second thought, leaving her to die. I would never forgive them for that.
The hunters, known as the Veilguards, are sworn to protect the realm from any threat. Their primary duty was eradicating vampires, the realm's greatest enemy. They did so with unwavering devotion, wielding their enchanted weapons and silver-lined blades like executioners delivering divine judgement.
Darian stood motionless, his sharp gaze scanning the shadows, every muscle in his body coiled with lethal precision. I remained frozen behind the tree, my hands curling into fists as I willed him to leave. As long as he lingered, I couldn’t risk moving.
The night stretched endlessly around us; the sky was thick with storm clouds. A distant rumble of thunder cracked through the silence, sending a tremor through the air. Gradually, raindrops fell, sinking into the earth and stirring the rich scent of damp moss and bark. The woods felt like they, too, were holding their breath alongside me.
