Page 4 of Sky of Thorns

“I didn’t know you to be such a romantic,” I scoff, but a smile turns on the corner of my lip. Mates are rare. You could go hundreds of years and never find one another. From the stories I’ve heard, my own mother and father were fated mates. Until he lost her at the hands of those fucking shifters. He’s become a shell of the man he once was when they killed her. My hands clench at my side, anger rising in my chest.

The shifter attacks had become a growing problem in Shadowvale in the last fifteen years. Towns ransacked and destroyed, innocent women and children lost in the madness of it all. And all because they no longer feel protected by the peace treaty that was introduced to ensure mages and shifters coexist peacefully in the kingdom of Shadowvale after the Armaghdale war. The day I lost my mother I swore that, as the crown prince, I would never let another Shadowvale born child suffer the same pain I have endured. So I have taken it upon myself to find a way to stop this carnage for my people and my kingdom. I glance at the seemingly innocuous shifter laying on the ground and try to silence the voice in my head.But what about the missing shifters?It whispers.How can she be the one that will destroy Shadowvale?It asks all questions I don’t have answers for.

Nero follows my gaze and crouches over her still form, brushing her chestnut hair from her face. “Oh great, she’s bleeding.”

Instinct overrides my senses as I look at her, my jaw clenching in concern when I see the blood sticking to her hairline. As I approach them, my lips twitch with a sneer when the worry grows stronger. She better not die on me after all we’ve been through to retrieve her. I lean down to inspect further, but don’t touch her.

“They want her alive, “ I grunt, annoyed as my heartbeat keeps racing. I step back from the shifter, feeling the need to move so that I can get her out of my sight as soon as possible. I look back at Nero, who’s waiting for my instruction. I sigh, exasperated. “Do what you must. Make sure she is safe.”

Sybil

Whisperedvoicesbreachtheedge of my consciousness as warm flickers of firelight play across the skin of my face.

“She will be fine. She’s breathing,” Aramis comments nonchalantly. I keep my eyes shut and my breathing in check to make sure they don’t realize I am awake. A pounding headache is overwhelming my senses, but I try to keep my ears peeled.

“We pushed her too hard. She’s too delicate, and no’ used to the rough pace.Females.“ Nero argues, and it seems as if the last word was said with exasperation.

Well, at least Nero gets it.

“You know we are on a deadline. The shifters must be stopped or Shadowvale will be ruined,” Aramis replies matter-of-factly with a cold, hard tone fitting of his soul. What does he mean by Shadowvale will fall from ruin if the shifters aren’t stopped? What is going on in their northern kingdom?

“Look at her Aramis,” Nero protests. I imagine his arms waving around me, trying to get Aramis’ attention. I’m surprised he even cares as much as he does. “Do you really think she’s organizing the rebellion and orchestrating attacks? She appears to be rather weak for a leader; she can’t even make a short journey. This shifter is nothing but a weak bairn as far as I am concerned.”

“Nero, it doesn’t matter how old or young one is. Don’t let these shifters fool you, we don’t know how strong she is in her creature form.” Aramis answers, nonplussed. “And you’ve heard the story of her parents, what they did and destroyed.”

“The only things we ken are rumors.” Nero continues to dispute Aramis. “We searched the entire house from top to bottom for evidence, and we found nothing but ointments, herbs, and copious amounts of books. Everything I’d expect to find in a healer’s household. Nae signs of the rebels or their plans. No signs of anything even slightly suspicious.”

My parents? They have heard of my parents?

“She must have been hiding the evidence. We can’t have come all this way just to retrieve some silly girl.’ Aramis retorts, his voice full of disbelief and a fury that’s disproportionate to the situation. As the two men bicker, I begin to slowly exhale, counting to ten, and running through a wellness check of all my moving body parts. I slowly open my eyes and see Aramis’ hateful gaze boring down on me. Not wanting to give him any power over me, I stare back just as intently. Why would I shy away from him if I have nothing to hide?

Aramis snorts, noticing that I’m conscious. “Looks like our damsel in distress is finally awake.” Aramis’s voice is loud above me, interrupting the guards’ conversations happening around the fire. I attempt moving towards the sound of the voices, but a small cry of pain leaves my lips. Every muscle in my body aches, and my temples keep throbbing as I push myself to a sitting position. Reaching up to touch the source of my pain, I am surprised when my fingers do not come in contact with drying blood. I prod the laceration, which is shallow, but it appears as though someone cleaned away any blood. I don’t bother asking who did it, only noting that maybe it’s a kindness I can take advantage of, should I need it.

I try to recollect my last memories before everything went black, but my mind fails me. What happened?

One of the younger guards’ with a mop of dirty brown hair and kind green eyes leaves Nero’s side and shoves a canteen into my face. I chug the water with enthusiasm. But my wretched body betrays me the moment I finish half of the bottle and I immediately turn away, retching the precious liquid into the dirt. I should have known better. Next time, pace yourself, Sybil.

“Whoa, steady there. Ye had a nasty fall and hit yer head.” Nero crouches in front of me, studying my face. “Ye need to take it slow. Have ye not ridden a horse before? If you injure yourself, it won’t do ye, or us, any good.”

“What do you think? Of course I’ve never ridden a horse. I’m a unicorn.” I scoff, then snort with laughter. Honestly, the idea is laughable, and incredibly insulting. “What use would I have to ride a horse? Plus, I’ve never had a reason to leave my village.” I scrub the back of my hand across my mouth before gingerly taking a small sip of the water. Well, I would have had one reason, had I heard from Nova Esther, the renowned healing academy of Kallistar. My parents had been professors there before I was born, training aspiring healers in biology, herbology and the healing powers of magic. They were esteemed unicorn healers, some of the best Nova Esther had ever seen, and not a day goes by where I don’t miss them with all my heart. After their death, I swore I would join the academy to continue their legacy and become a great healer for Kallistar, my kingdom. But Nova Esther never responded to my letters, and I was too afraid to leave my home and embark on a journey full of unknowns. Countless times, I had packed my bags and reached the edge of Bellenau with Lemon in tow, desperate to make the most of my life, only to return to my family home. Too anxious to abandon the comfort of what I knew and to leave all the memories of my parents behind. So I stayed in Bellenau, helping the villagers with the few skills my parents had taught me, wondering if that adventure I had always longed for would eventually come and get me.

Turns out, it did. But I wasn’t wholly convinced this was the adventure I had dreamed about.

Nero offers me a piece of bread he’s torn off once he sees I won’t hurl again. I take it gratefully as my stomach grumbles loudly and gingerly nibble at its edge.

The smell of meat permeates my senses as I survey the camp. One guard turns a makeshift spit with two small creatures cooking over the flames. My stomach growls as I watch the fat sizzle and pop as it hits the flames below. While I preferred a variety of vegetation to my diet, adequate protein was required for all shifters due to the vast energy expenditure required to change forms. I try not to move as Lemon squirms around in my pocket before poking his nose out to sniff the air. Aramis reaches into the fire and grabs a single stick, and I take the moment to shove Lemon’s head back into the recess of the fabric. Aramis swiftly rips off the leg of the poor creature and hands it to me.

“Eat. We will rest here for another hour, then we will be off again.” His eyes look over my shoulder, refusing to make contact. Bastard. He could at least have the decency to look at me when he offers me food. “I suggest you relieve yourself.”

Does he think I signed up for this? I scoff internally.

I will my body to shift and take over my form–just to see if I can, but nothing responds to the pull. I bite my inner cheek in frustration, glaring at my captor. If only I knew any kind of defense to save me from this mess. I need to be smart if I want to get out of this mess. I might not know a lot about self defense, but I have my wits.

After staring at Aramis’ outreached hand, hunger wins over my resolve, and I reluctantly take the meat. I tear off a small piece and shove it nonchalantly into my pocket where Lemon immediately grabs it and stuffs it in his cheek, making small noises of contentment. I stare at the food in my hand, amazed I’m about to eat with my kidnappers. Who, to my disgust, discusses my parents like they’re criminals. I tear off another small piece for Lemon in protest, then sigh. What good will an empty stomach do? I take a bite, emitting a small groan of pleasure. Food is my comfort language, but consenting to eat this meat does not mean I trust them.

I eat faster than I care to admit–starved for the nutrients that will support me through this journey. There’s not enough for a second helping, so I try to savor every bite.The dizziness settles, and my mind is less foggy. Aramis and his men sit on the other side of the fire and ignore me, comfortable in their conversation. Flashes of the conversation I overheard between Nero and Aramis come back to me. The accusations of me partaking in a rebellion is ludicrous. Shifters have been living peacefully amongst most kinds all over Craeweth. Or at least that’s what I heard from the traveling fae, humans, and other shiftersthat cross Bellennau from time to time. News of a rebellion would have surely reached the village if it was true, wouldn’t it?

“And what exactly makes you think that I’m part of some rebel group?” I question, keeping my tone light, friendly even. I attempt to make eye contact with Aramis, Nero–anyone as I continue reluctantly look at the now bare bone in my hand.

---