Heat and steam fold over my exposed throat.
Suddenly, the cloud of disoriented thoughts is a gushing river that all points to the same conclusion: find the will to fight now or die.
My eyes pop wide. I can just barely see the top of his head as he’s dipped down over me. His fangs skirt along my neck, the steam of his breath dampening my skin. He leaves a trail from the base of my throat all the way up to my ear.
I refuse to whimper, to give him that satisfaction.
“And here I thought you might be a challenge,” he breathes into my ear. “It never is though. You’re all the same. Pathetic. Useless. Frightened.”
He’s not wrong. And maybe that’s why I hate them the most. Because we will never compare and it’s not fair. We didn’t choose to be helpless and defenseless. We didn’t choose to be their food. We didn’t choose to live in a world with monsters.
Pools collect in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall.
“Sorry to disappoint.” My clenched jaw throbs but focusing on the pain might be the only thing keeping my voice from cracking.
I struggle against his hold, if only to test what I already know: there is no breaking free. My arms are pinned between our bodies and my knife isn’t even in my grasp anymore—I guess I must’ve dropped it the moment his fist tried inverting my face.
“Just fucking do it already,” I tell him. “If I’m so pathetic and useless, do it.”
He snarls, a sound that I can’t decide is one of hunger, disapproval, both, or something else entirely.
He lowers his mouth to my neck, fangs mere inches from my skin.
Regret pierces me before he does, a twinge in my chest that bleeds into the rest of my aching body. I’ll die here if I’m lucky enough not to be left to turn into a ghoul, and if or when anyone finds me, they’ll leave my body for the animals they hunt because respect for my body, my passing won’t matter as much as their need for another meal. I will fade in time just like every human who died before me. And I only have myself to blame for foolishly believing I could handle this noctis on the ground, in close range.
I’ll be damned if the last thing I see is Gregor’s smooshed face, so for one final time, I look up into the sky and relish what little of the violet sunset I can see.
At least it’s not red.
My eyes shut, bracing myself for the worst.
But a new, guttural sound gurgles from Gregor’s lips.
Something wet splashes against my neck as he gasps and splutters. I open my eyes as his grip on me loosens, the large man staggering backward and clutching his chest. There’s a wound there, cavernous and ghastly. Blood seeps between his fingers like a flower blooming darker than night.
Gregor coughs one final time, red glistening on his lips and teeth. Then he crumples, revealing a silhouetted man standing behind him.
The man steps closer, skin so dark he nearly blends in with the shadows cast down by the tall buildings.
I’d recognize those short ropes of hair anywhere; I’d know his spiced cake scent.
Standing over Gregor’s body, Rowland yanks a spear from his back, and brings the blood-dripping tip of the blade to the decorative but tattered red fabric at his hip.
“What were you doing out here?” he bites out, and every word possesses the powerful roar of an ocean. He marches closer. “My sentries spotted you with two noctis. They said it looked like you lead them straight to Valor’s Rest. Straight to my front doors. Tomypeople. And then you just ran off with a noctis that, from the looks of it, could’ve eaten five of you and still wanted more. Have you lost your mind?”
An eon stretches before I’m able to wrap my head around the fact that I’ve just managed to evade death once more, and with the help of Rowland Barret, nonetheless.
He’s never going to let me live this one down.
Second only to my crossbow, Rowland is the closest thing to a friend I’ve ever had, or likely ever will. For years, I presumed him dead, lost somewhere in the mass grave that became of Hulbeck. But to my surprise, and perhaps some relief, our paths crossed again one summer a few years back when he was moving his people to Gravenburg, and I just happened to be traveling through.
Or at least, that had been the plan. He hasn’t let me disappear again since. In fact, on more than one occasion, he’s tried convincing me to move intoValor’s Rest, but I’ve denied every request. He knows why. Yet, the poor man keeps trying. I imagine the thought of me being out here all alone terrifies him as much as the thought of belonging to a community of people just to watch them die terrifies me.
Knees still trembling, I think about thanking him for saving my pitiful life. But I can’t bring myself to do it.
I muster a wry smile and shove everything else behind it.
“Valor’s Rest? That’s what you settled on? What was wrong with any of the names I suggested. I quite likedBarret Town. Or there’s always the age-old classicRowlandia.”
