I was flying, flying through the laughing wind as the air passed through my feathers. My eyes roaming across the verdant land below, the roaming hills and forest near the end of winter, awaiting the spring thaw.
Such freedom there is high in the cold gusting winds and gray misty clouds. The wind pounding in my ears in time with my beating heart. My blood thrums through me as I dip and dive through the air. Until white hot pain shoots through my skin and burrows into my bones.
Then I'm falling, my wings flapping in vain to stay afloat through the blinding pain. The arrow like a dark snake, burrowing through my feathers and into my flesh. Down I fall, the pain increasing as I near the frozen ground. In fear, I close my eyes and wait for my body to splatter against the stone.
Suddenly, a cold wind slaps me to the side, the frozen wrongness of it forcing a gasp through my lungs and wrenching my eyes open. My breath comes in quiet frantic gasps, the pain in my shoulder no longer an icy fire but a numb chill. Panting through the pain, I find myself in a light filled room.
The stone walls painted with plaster and rimmed in dark wood. A gray stone hearth roars with life as the orange flames gobble at the wooden logs. Blue woolen drapes frame a set of large glass windows to my left. The frosted glass facing out to an empty yard of dead moss and ivy.
My hand brushes against something soft, glancing towards it I find it resting by my side on a dark blue coverlet. Soon, I become aware that I am fully upright in a large oaken four poster bed. Dark blue curtains pulled back to the posts and tied with ropes of silken black ribbon. Confusion instinctively makes my hands go to my chest, my fingers finding a cotton cloth barrier instead of my skin.
I look down and find my legs covered by the warm coverlet. The color black against the pale white of the shift that has replaced my feather cloak. I run my fingers up the blouse of the shift, and across my left shoulder until they stop at a raised lump covered by my sleeve. I pull away the cloth and trail a finger down my recently healed wound, that has been stitched together with sky blue thread.
The color reminding me of a pair of eyes, eyes of kindness and fear. The eyes of a mate that I at first, did not remember I had, but there he is. The words wind through my mind like wind through the branches, as I turn my gaze from the wound to him. His tall lanky form sprawled in a plush gray armchair just a few feet away. The folds of his eyes fluttering with sleep, his face so much younger and somewhat peaceful.
Cocking my head to the side, I feel a familiar stirring in my blood. Even in pain, a crow loves nothing more than to trick and play. It is part of my nature, a behavior I've had since I was born. Even when I fled to the wood, I never lost it and still revel in its grasp.
Be it a stranger or family, they all are fair game to a crow. Though many think it a curse, others see it as a blessing to be tricked or teased by such a mischievous creature. The water pitcher on the bed side table suddenly gives me a perfectly thrilling idea.
"Water Maid swish and sway, Water Maid come out and play," I croon, in a quiet sing song voice. My pointer finger ticking back and forth as the water flows out of the pitcher's spout. The stream of water arcs and curls in the air, as the ropey drops slowly circle above the man's head.
Like the Wind Lord, the Water Maid does not need the language of the Fallen Empire to lend her power. Air and water are more palpable, their nature more willing to be used if they are asked to act in playful and mischievous ways. Such as blowing dust onto clean laundry, or sending someone for a quick swim in the creek.
The water drops as I release my control over the circling stream. It falls onto the man's head with a splash, drenching his golden hair and white crumpled shirt. His eyes bolt open and he stumbles to his feet, confusion and the remnants of sleep makes him wobble on unsteady legs.
"What in blazes!" he cries, gazing down at his wet clothes. I silently remove the coverlet from my legs, and then cross them underneath me as I twist my body to face him. Bubbles of laughter slip from my throat as he shakes his head like waterlogged dog. My laughter turns his heated stare towards me, his brow furrows in annoyance as I fall back on the bed with uncontrollable mirth.
"Oh, you think that's funny do you?" he mutters, walking over and peering down at me from the edge of the bed.
"I'm part crow I think everything is funny," I chuckle as I stretch out on the bed. The hem of my shift bunches up around my calfs, the material pulling tight around my chest and stomach. I glance up at him with hooded eyes, the corner of my mouth ticking up in a feral smile. His light blue eyes light up with hunger, hunger of the wolf that he his underneath that pale ivory skin.
"Well then," he whispers, low and husky as he climbs up on the bed and cages me with his strong arms. "How about I give you something to truly laugh about."
His breath flutters against my ear as he bends his head down, till his lips touch the delicate skin between my ear and neck. A low moan escapes my throat as I trail my hand down his back. His hands, swiftly wrapping themselves around my hipbones as he pulls me into a heated but tender kiss.
So enraptured is my mate, that he does not notice my hand unsheathe the knife from his belt. As he starts to pull down the blouse of my shift, I use my weight to roll him over. The momentum flopping his back hard on the bed with me straddling his hips, the knife grazing the fabric over his heart.
"You are a handsome one mate, but your still a male, and a dumb one at that," I purr, my head cocking to the side as I drag the knife up to his throat. "Tell me why I should trust you with my life and body. Tell me how you will protect the children that will one day share our blood. Give me your vow, or I will leave this room and let you ache with need."
He sighs as he bends his head back to stare at the bed canopy overhead. His chest moving up and down against me, the tell tale sign of his desire growing more noticeable beneath my flushed skin.
"Moon Goddess preserve me," he sighs.
"Fine, I Soren Delow of the Luxian Royal line, vow that I will protect the virtue and honor of Nadia Akara O'Dell of the Bellator Virgo clan, and all the children that will one day share our blood."
His eyes pierce my own. Hunger written plainly in their depths beneath the rings of pride, annoyance, and love. I sink so deeply into them, that I don't notice him roll us over and pinning my body to the bed, until it's too late. My knife then slips from my grip and onto the floor.
"Will that do, little crow?" he growls, sending shivers down my spine. He kisses a trail down my throat, my hands stretch out to find the indentation between the mattress and the bed frame. As he tries to spread my legs apart with his hands, I grab the hilt of the sword with both hands and strike. Metal rings against metal, my muscles straining from my seated position. The blade of my sword screeching against Soren's own.
"Oh how I've missed this," he says, voice heavy with concentration and strain.
"It was only for one night," I scoff, kicking him in the stomach and scooting off the bed with as much grace as I could muster.
Stumbling to my feet, I curse whoever put me in this ridiculous dress. It feels like I'm fighting naked, of which I have on occasion. I settle into a fighting stance, my feet spread apart and sword raised at my opponent.
"Yes but it was such a glorious and revealing one," Soren drawls, coming around the other side of the bed.
The tip of his sword points towards the ground, as he stalks over with that same predatory intent that I know so well. It makes my blood run hot, a bubbling fizzing feeling that has me yearning to fight, to play as the crow does with its toys.
"Revealing, there wasn't much to reveal," I huff, sarcasm evident in my voice.
I charge, my sword aimed for his stomach until he stops it with unnatural ease. Gods damn my wound, the force of his block sends shooting pain through my shoulder. My legs carry me back as I put distance between us, our weapons raised in a steeled defense as we circle one another. Wind whooshes past my head as I duck beneath his swing, I bring up my sword as I spin out of his reach. Another strike of the swords shakes my weary bones.
"You have been practicing mate," Soren pants sweat starting to bead on his brow.
"So have you, I see you learned from your mistake from last time," I chuckle, sidestepping another swing of his blade.
"What did you expect me to do, I couldn't just let you bleed out on my bed," he says with indignation.
"Ah, but it was not your compassion that got you a knife in the arm, it was your presumption that I was not a threat," I say with feral glee.
He growls at me as our swords lock against each other, through the locked blades I see his eyes flare from blue to black, and then back to blue.
"After two years you still will not let that go," he huffs making another bubble of laughter rumble through my throat.
"Has it really been that long, I thought you forgot about me," I pout.
Soren rolls his eyes before suddenly wrenching my sword from my grasp, the clang of the metal against stone echoes like hollow bones. Bringing his sword up, he settles the blade against my throat.
"How could I forget you," he whispers, his eyes suddenly going wet with sorrow. "How could I forget the woman I found freezing and injured in my room. How could I forget your feathered hair and obsidian eyes. The softness of your skin and the sharpness of your blade."
His words strike home in my heart. It was true I had tried to kill him, then seduced him and left. While a raging storm blew through the valley, but I had to. Even one night was to long to stay away from Ivaine. If not for that hunter's arrow I would not have been there, and I would not have found my mate.
"Soren," I whisper my fingers reaching out to cup his cheek as he lowers his sword to his side. "I did not know, how could I know?"
"Because you left me, you left me to awake in pain all alone," he whispers, eyes closing in defeat.
"I had no choice, I couldn't leave Ivaine. At the time she had not come into her full power yet and I was the only who could protect her, from them."
"The Pure Ones," Soren growls, as he pulls me into a crushing embrace. "Damn them to the pits of hell for what they have taken, from what they have stolen from me and you my dark rose." His words twist through my heart as they change from hate to tender love.
"Don't fret my bloodthirsty mate, there will be plenty of time for that later," I croon, peering up at him with a knowing look.
"Yes indeed," he replies, cupping my chin as he lowers his lips to mine. The sound of pounding on the doors, ruins the tumultuous moment.
"I'll bloody kill him I swear," Soren growls as he makes for the door.
"Allow me," I say, pulling him back before walking towards the doors. I retrieve my fallen sword as I go, the hinges of the door groaning open to reveal two armored guards with a young man between them. The boy's face is pale with fear as their hands hold him upright. Three sets of bewildered eyes, glance up the length of the sword to me. Their faces flushing slightly at my ruffled state.
My wild raven hair tangled with feathers that flows down all the way to my ankles. Sweat glistening off my forehead, arms, and in the hollow of my throat. My shift stopping at my ankles, and the neckline cut almost dangerously low.
"I trust you have a good explanation for dragging this poor boy to our quarters," I drawl, the whites of my eyes no doubt turning pitch black.
"Ye-Yes My Lady," the one on the left with dark skin and short hair replies with a slight stutter.
"His Highness ordered us to bring this boy to you for judgment."
I lower my sword, my brow ticking up in confusion. "What judgement would I need to give him? He's barely old enough to battle the northern hordes," I say, rolling my eyes with disbelief.
"Aye My Lady, but he is old enough to shoot, he's the one who loosed the arrow that injured you," the guard replies with a gruff tone.
Soren growls behind me, his tall frame coming up by my side. I give him a seething look, the threat in my glance forces him to back off.
"Well then I should be the one to congratulate him on his skill, release him," I say, bringing up my sword to the guard's neck. "Now, I will not have his blood on my hands."
They nod in unison and release the boy. Relief shines in the boy's eyes as he then stoops to one knee and bows.
"Thank you your lady ship," he says with a trembling breath.
"It is the least I could do, I can't have one of my guards dead, that would be inconvenient," I drawl setting the sword against the wall.
The boy looks up at me with shock and surprise. A smile spreading across his face as he jumps to his feet. "You mean your not gonna kill me, your gonna make me a guard?" he asks excitedly.
"Yes," I say, grinning slightly in amusement. "Anyone who can get the drop on me deserves such an honor, now who will be receiving this honor I wonder."
"Oh forgive me," he quickly says, dipping into a low bow. "My name is-."
"Wait!" someone yells from the hall. A roar sounding through the fortress as the thump of boots echoes against the walls. A roar so familiar and pained. A chill goes down my spine, fusing my bones together with icy fear. Speckled Bear they got Speckled Bear.
"Oh what have they done!" I cry, pushing past the boy and guards. I block out Soren's shout as I follow the source of the pounding boots. Ivaine's mate, runs in front of me as he follows her through the halls. Soon I'm waylaid by the people blocking the hall, and then Soren grasping my arm and forcing me to look at him.
"What is going on?" he growls, eyes like blue fire raking over my frightened face.
"Someone is hurting Speckled Bear, the only other being who has been a constant through Ivaine's life. If she sees what they are doing she will become more unhinged that what she already is," I reply, my voice quaking and suddenly dry.
Another roar shakes the fortress, followed by Ivaine's scream of rage. I bolt away from Soren and follow the sound of wolfen growls and roars, my path taking me to the main courtyard and the blood stopping scene before me.
A man lays on the ground, alive and coughing blood as his throat bleeds from his wounds. Speckled Bear sprawled on the ground with bloody gashes in her side as two wolves growl and snap at each other.
One black as night, the other with fur the color of fresh earth. The black wolf pins the other to the ground, the other wolf with eyes of red struggling to dislodge him. After a moment the wolf relents and bares its neck before disappearing in a swirl of green fog.
The black wolf jumps back, as a woman with dark skin and purple eyes hurries over with a pair of large green capes. It's back convulses and twists before changing into a man with piercing green eyes. The young man hurries over with a cloak in hand towards Ivaine as the smoke clears.
I rush over to them, oblivious to the male eyes on my thinly clad body. Already the young man has the cape wrapped around her, his own cape covering his body down to his ankles. I crouch down beside her and clutch her hand. They both go still at the motion.
Ivaine's eyes turn glassy and wet before lunging towards me, wrapping her arms around my shoulder as angry sobs wrack her body.
"Damaris what the hell is going on?" I hear Soren ask in that gruff tone of his.
"Your bastard of a brother Varrick, tried to kill Ivaine's friend," Damaris says with a hiss. "At least that's what I could gather from her when she wasn't trying to kill him, or me for that matter."
"Wonderful, now we have to worry about two hotheaded murderous women in the castle," Soren huffs.
"Both of you quiet or I'll cut your balls off and feed them to the rats," I hiss, smoothing down Ivaine's wild hair. "Us murderous women need to concentrate in order to save both our charges."
"Indeed," Ivaine says, as she pushes herself up to her feet and walks towards the bleeding man and bear. "You will like this," I tell Damaris and Soren as I join her.
We raise our hands to the sky as trails of black and green smoke twist and twine through our fingers. The smoke billowing and glimmering before exploding into a cloud of bright white light.