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"Burn it all."
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I AWOKE warm and rested and calm. Rising to the sweet feeling of a warm finger brushing against my back. Sliding down carefully placed lines. Gliding in a gentle touch; a caress. My shirt had been moved up to the top of my body, revealing my spin and the full extent of my torso. The cool air nipped at my skin in a way that sent shivers down my body. A stark contrast to the warmth of Rhys's skin as his fingers ran down my back in slow, languid movements.
And then his hand found purchase in another spot just next to my spine, finding another place on my back to trace. Another line to sketch.
My eyes snapped open and I tensed. My entire body freezing as I realized what he was tracing. What I had so carefully hidden all these months and yet he was somehow tracing those defining memories marked on my skin.
I didn't dare move. Not an inch. Though I knew he realized I was awake. Could probably sense it the moment consciousness returned to my mind.
"Who did this to you?" Rhys whispered, finally looking the three scars that marred my back. For the first time finally seeking the slopes of my past. The scars I was by no means ashamed of and yet I felt so...raw with them revealed.
I hadn't even realized my glamour had dropped. How was I meant to explain this?
I didn't answer for a long moment. Piecing together my answer carefully as though it was a large puzzle. "I once told you my childhood was much like yours in the aspect we were punished when we did something they perceived wrong." I replied slowly, my voice still gravelly with sleep. I choked, a sick burning feeling in my throat.
"They used to use magic to heal us," I inhaled a sharp breath, "but that time they had cut too deep and bled so profusely that even the Fae healers couldn't fix them."
I remembered the day as though it were mere seconds ago. Standing in a pool of my own blood. When I couldn't stand for weeks. The agonizing pain.
I felt Rhys tense behind me, but his fingers never stilled, drawing patterns across the three long gashes as though he were tracing the stark lines of a piece of art.
The sun had just risen, its light diluted from the wing still wrapped around us. A cover. A shield. Hiding us from the rest of the world as the sun shone through it.
"Why do you conceal them?" he asked, his voice nearer than it had been. Like he had leaned closer to get a better look. So close the warmth of his breath flitted across my neck.
Just as it had last night...
I expected to freak out. I did not. Not in the slightest. No, I only felt the urge to move closer.
I shifted toward him, the warmth of Rhysand's body pouring over me like a blanket. The hand that was not tracing my back snaked along my body, resting itself on my hip. A steady movement that was the only reason I confessed my next words. "Partly fear. Partly tactic."
He made questioning sound, prompting me further as his finger slid down my spine in a slow gesture. I suppressed a shiver, inhaling a deep breath.
The sheets rustled around me as I turned, Rhys's grip tightened lightly, as if to keep me from vanishing with the morning mist.
I flipped so that I was staring at High Lord. His star-flecked eyes clashed with the fire of my own. I replied, "Tactic, because in my experience when people see how many scars you have they assume you are dangerous. Oftentimes you're quickly perceived as a threat. If no one sees my scars—the proof I can handle myself as well as any man—I can use it to my advantage. Utilize the element of surprise and twist it against them."
Rhys's eyes lit with curiosity and pride while he angled his head where it rested on the pillow. His gaze prompted me further. To continue on with the second reason.
I hesitated, not answering for a moment and biting the inside of my cheek. With a faux annoyed sigh I answered quickly, "Partly fear because I have this teensy problem of running from my past." the least of it if I was being honest.
Rhys arched a brow, "I wouldn't have guessed."
I tsked, waving him off with a roll of my eyes, "Yeah, yeah."
Rhysand's arms were still banded around me, and he stared for a long moment, watching as I sunk into his warm body under the cover of his wing. The membranous texture filtering the raw sunlight and turning it into an array of soft colors. We gazed at each other.
And I thought that I very well might be content to do exactly that forever.
He said quietly, as though afraid his voice would cut through the scene. "Do not hide your scars, Danika."
I didn't get a chance to reply as his wing flew back and the sun invaded my sights.
I hissed, my reflexes reacting as I instinctively pulled the blanket over my head and shielded myself from the sun. That bastard. What if I had been blinded, hmm?
Rhys let out a low laugh and rolled out of bed. "Bath or no bath?" he said.
I cringed at the memory of the grimy, reeking bathing room a level below. "I'd rather die."
Another dark chuckle. "Then let's get out of here."
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We flew for most of the day, far and wide, close to where the forested steppes rose up to meet the Illyrian Mountains. We didn't speak of the night before—we barely spoke at all, and when we did, of course I was "bullying" him, as he liked to call it. Such a drama queen.
Another clearing. Another day of playing with my power. Summoning wings, winnowing, fire and lightning—now earthy things.
I could feel the words rising in his as the hours passed. I'd catch him watching me whenever I paused for a break—catch him opening up his mouth...and then shutting it.
It rained at one point, and then turned colder and colder with the cloud cover. We had yet to stay in the woods past dark, and I wondered what sort of creatures might prowl throughout them.
Indeed, the sun was sinking low in the sky by the time Rhys gathered me into his arms and took to the skies.
There was only the wind, and his warmth, and the boom of his powerful wings.
I ventured, noticing the look in his eyes. "What is it?"
His attention remained on the dark pines sweeping past. "There is one more story I need to tell you."
I waited. He didn't continue.
And I wondered...if maybe he shared the same fear I did. Wondered if maybe he was afraid that I would walk away. Afraid to let people see everything for that very fear. Just as he had said to me.
I put my hand against his cheek, the first intimate touch we'd had all day. His skin was chilled, his eyes bleak as they slid to me. "I won't walk away..." I inhaled a sharp breath. "Not from you." I swore quietly.
His gaze softened. "Dani—"
Rhys roared in pain, arching against me.
I felt the impact—felt the blinding pain through the bond that ripped through my mental shields, felt the shudder of the dozen places the arrows struck him as they shot from bows hidden beneath the forest canopy.
I yelped as an arrow pierced through my shoulder, protruding from my skin as it stuck. I cursed colorfully.
And then we were falling.
Rhys gripped me, and his magic twisted around us in a dark wind, readying to winnow us out—and failed.
Failed because those were ash arrows through him. Through his wings. Through me. They'd tracked us—yesterday, the little magic he'd used with Lucien, they'd somehow tracked it and found us even so far away.
More arrows—
Rhys flung out his power. Too late.
Arrows shredded his wings. Struck his legs.
And I think I was screaming. Not for fear as we plummeted, but for him—for the blood and the greenish sheen on those arrows. Not just ash, but poison—
Do not give in. Do not forget. I should have listened.
No.
I did not regret it. Did not look back and wish I had my given in as I had, and yet as I beheld the scene before me. Time slowing into a sequence of never ending moments, I felt like I was dying.
A dark wind—his power—slammed into me, and then I was being thrown far and wide as he sent me tumbling beyond the arrows range. Tumbling through the air—
Rhys's yell of wrath shook the forest, the mountains beyond. Birds rose up in waves, taking to the skies, fleeing at that bellow.
I slammed into the dense canopy of trees, my body screaming in agony as I shattered through the wood and pine and leaf. Down and down.
Focus.
I shattered through my power. Light gathering below me. Pure white tendrils weaving together and creating one impenetrable and unbreakable shield below me.
I collided with a wall of pure power so solid I thought my right arm might snap along with the arrow still resting in my shoulder blades. Waves of pain radiating from the wound like ripples in a pond.
But I stopped falling through the branches. And the only thought echoing through my mind was Rhys.
Thirty feet below, the ground was nearly impossible to see in the growing darkness.
I scurried across the shield with an expert procession, the depths of my mind opening and bowing their chained gates, flying open as my training rushed through my thoughts. My missions. Hunting. All of it rushing through me as I leapt the last few feet onto a wide pine bough.
My mind was clear as day while I hurtled through the wood. I reached the trunk and clung to it. Quickly examining the arrow through my shoulder as though I was on a battlefield. A quick fix. That was what I needed.
I looked around, eyes scanning through the forest as I searched for something. Anything.
Nothing. And then I looked at the tree trunk. There was definitely a risk of permanent damage if I did it, but currently it was my only option. I wasn't willing to risk a single second longer than I had to when I could be out there searching for him. For Rhys.
In an ideal situation, I would cut off the sharp end and pull the arrow back through the other side. Sadly, this was not that situation.
I closed my eyes for a moment. A silent wince on my face as I turned my body so that my back was facing the trunk of the tree. So that the fletching of the arrow was facing the wood, angled in a way that was nothing other than intentional.
And with a deep breath, I slammed my body back, knocking into the tree and successfully hitting the back of the arrow. I yelled loud enough to wake the forest as it slid almost the entire way through.
I didn't waste time. Throwing my head back and clenching my jaw as I brought my left hand up to the shaft. And with a final yank and a final pained shriek, I wrenched the damn arrow from my shoulder.
Blood spilled from the wound as quick as a dam breaking, spilling to the forest floor and no doubt attracting every predator within ten miles. My face permanently etched in a wince, I stuffed the arrow into my belt and brought my hand up to the front of the wound in a feeble attempt to stop the blood flow.
Crimson liquid spilled through my clenched fingers in a steady flow but then it...slowed. And kept slowing and slowing until it just...stopped. Hesitantly, I peeled my hand from the wound, studying the bloodied shirt, and yet no more flowing.
Healed. Already.
Impossible.
Worry about that later.
I listened, tucking my hair behind my ears as I searched for a single rustle. Searched for Rhys, for his wings, for his next yell. Nothing.
No sign of the archers who he'd been falling to meet. Who he'd thrown me far, far away from. I dug my nails into the bark as I listened for him, not even realizing as my nails grew into iron points. As my face twisted into an icy wrath.
Ash arrows poisoned ash arrows. And one had stuck me and yet—don't. Find Rhys. Then care.
The forest grew ever darker, the trees seemed to wither into skeletal husks. Even the birds hushed themselves.
I brought my palm into my line of sight, finally noticing the iron weaponry of my nails. I stared at the eye inked there and sent a blind thought through it. Into our bond. Where are you? Tell me. I'll find you.
But there was no wall of onyx adamant on the other end of the bond. Only endless shadow.
Things—great, enormous things—were rustling in the forest.
Fine. Let the monsters come, I would prove just how much of a monster I could be.
Rhysand. No response.
The last of the light slipped away. Yet I found that the darkness suited me so much better.
Rhysand. I nearly screamed down the bond.
No sound. The bond was silent. Utterly silent. I'd always felt it. A comfort. A constant. And now...it had vanished.
On the ground, something sleek and dark slithered past, the leaves crunching under what looked to be enormous paws tipped in needle-like claws.
Something began screaming. High, panicked screeches. As if it were being torn apart. Not Rhys—something else.
Where are you where are you where are you where are you.
Let me find you let me find you let me find you.
Rhys was hurt. They had hurt them. Targeted him...and now....now...
It was not hot anger that poured through me.
But something ancient, and frozen, and so vicious that my already focused sensed were honed into razor sharpness.
I took a steadying breath, closing my eyes. Tunneling deep, deep into myself. Tunneling and waking the monster that lurched beneath my skin. Tapping it on the shoulder and saying that the cage was finally open. It was finally free. Waking the demons that whispered over my shoulders, allowing them to wield my mind.
And when I opened my eyes again. I was no longer Danika. I was someone—something far more deadly.
The world trembled beneath me. Trembled because of me. Because I did not just possess power. I was power.
And I would be everything they feared.
A/N: *que Breaking Free from high school musical* *clears throat dramatically*
We'Re sOaRin' - fLyin'
HAPPY NEW YEARRRRRR
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