BOUND IN FLAMES

Part 3

You didn't know how daggers had gotten into your hands. One ash and the other simply ordinary.

The first few moments were a blur, everything happening too fast yet it felt as if time had stopped. Your sister's shrieking, your father's terror—stricken face, the blistering cold air invading the room and the gigantic snarling beast with golden fur.

The beast—no a faerie—had to be as large as a horse, and while his body was somewhat feline, his head was distinctly wolfish. You didn't know what to make of the curled, elk-like horns that protruded from his head. But lion or hound or elk, there was no doubting the damage his black, daggerlike claws and yellow fangs could inflict.

Had you been alone either here in your family's cottage or in the woods you would've already made a move. No doubt inflicting as much damage as you could with your ash daggers before drawing your last breath. But you weren't alone, had no room for recklessness or error.

Without even realizing it you had wound up in front of your sisters. The fae side of you—the primal part—you kept buried deep within you coming out, instinct taking over, you wouldn't yield an inch. Not even as the creature reared onto its hind legs and bellowed through a maw full of fangs: "MURDERERS!"

But it was another word that echoed through you. As the fae blood in your veins almost seemed to come life in recognition of the fae beast's presence before you. One you had been lying to yourself about.

Daring a glance over your shoulder. Your sisters; Nesta and Elain screamed, kneeling against the wall of the hearth, your father crouched in front of them, another body for you to defend. And feyre standing behind you slightly to your left. With a dagger clutched tightly in her hand.

Without thinking you took another step toward the faerie, keeping the table between you, noticing Feyre's bow and quiver were across the room— past the beast. You'd have to buy her enough time to get around him to reach the ash arrow and enough time to fire it. You knew you could do it, but you didn't know if you could do it without the rest of your family getting hurt, so you didn't.

"MURDERERS!" the beast roared again, hackles raised.

"P-please," your father babbled from behind you, failing to find it in himself to come to your side. "Whatever we have done, we did so unknowingly, and-"

"W-w-we didn't kill anyone," Nesta added, choking on her sobs, arm lifted over her head, as if that tiny iron bracelet would do anything against the creature.

Little did they know it wouldn't do anything.

Feyre snatched another dinner knife off the table, the best she could do unless you found a way to get her to the quiver. "Get out," you growled at the creature, brandishing the knives before you. "Get. Out. Now."

He bellowed at you in response, and the entire cottage shook, the plates and cups rattling against one another. But it left his massive neck exposed.

You hurled the ordinary dagger that was white-knuckled in your hand.

Fast so fast, if it wasn't for you being part fae you would've missed it, he slashed out with a paw, sending it skittering away as he snapped for your face with his teeth. Which you were counting on and with the ash dagger clutched in your other hand you slashed upwards. Cutting across his face, making him let out a sound of pain and wrath.

Feyre had leapt back, amost stumbling over your cowering father. The faerie could have killed you—could have, yet the lunge had been a warning—and it knew the cut you had made was a warning too.

Shaking off the pain, it locked its gaze on you, blood dripping down its face. The faerie finally seemed to realize that you were threat. Especially with the ash dagger in your hand that was now dripping with his blood.  It narrowed its eyes at you, letting out a low growl, before stalking towards you.