Chapter 53: 53
If audio player doesn't work, press Stop then Play button again
Rising silently, I dim the flame in my hand, and push my way back through the brambles, eager to leave, carefully, carefully, listening behind me for the footfalls of a creature that might have heard my presence. I grit my teeth and walk faster. Soon enough the end of the bramble wall appears, quicker than I remember- much quicker, my feet moving from under me, eager to get out and-
My feet slide beneath me.
Mud and brambles and leaves and spiny sticks all loom into my vision as my face slams into the ground, catapulted out of the brambles and flat onto my back. For a moment, my breath leaves my lungs. Stars flash before my eyes. Wheezing and somewhat delirious, I cough, chest feeling bruised, and scramble to secure my sachet, which had been flung off my back. My head spins. I feel like I am going to vomit.
Primal instincts kick in and I bend over double, heaving, my chest tight as if five metres below water, threatening to leave me bruised and hurting for the next few days to come. Then I see the sickening gashes on my arm and all of a sudden, my stomach drops, body running cold.
Fuck.
At first there is pain, then the blood comes. Thick droplets swelling on the palms of my hands, in small gashes down my legs, down the side of my cheek. I wipe it away as it forms, blotting it out with the back of my sleeve, panic rising in my throat as my efforts only prove more and more futile.
"Shit," I whisper, "Shit, shit, shit,"
Of all of the times in the world to stumble and bleed, why in heaven's name did it have to be now? This really must be some cruel joke.
How many vampires hunted these woods I wonder? Ones who didn't attend the grand gatherings in the palace, or perhaps ones that did and still hunted anyway? How long would it take for them to smell the blood? Trolls and goblins I could defend myself against, but a pack of vampires…
"Why am I like this," I weep silently to myself, continuing in vain to try and stem the flow of blood from my body. But it keeps on coming, draining gold and then red as it pools into the ground in thick sticky rivulets of molten crimson. Panic pulses through me like a wildfire.
My necklace pulses against the skin of my chest, one, twice, three times, like a warning call, a second heart against my skin. My skin tingles, blood boils, heat rising off my skin like a bonfire on a cold night. Something is welling inside me, massing at the pit of my stomach and threatening to spill, some feeling, some power in which I have no control, growing, higher, higher... A looming shadow darts at the corner of my vision, and in the split second I have to react, I raise my hand to it, and scream. The thing inside of me bursts.
A cataclysmic boom shakes the Great Forest.
Trees rock violently, creatures falling from their branches, and birds fly screaming into the air. Then, just as quickly as it comes, everything stops. Nothing moves, not even a whisper is breathed amongst the leaves. Even the wind has ceased to howl in the eaves of the branches, and when the ground settles, the throbbing in my bones subsiding, I open my eyes that I hadn't even registered had I closed.
Soren stands, bound in coils light, just inches away from me, eyes wide and shocked with bright gold. His fangs are visible in his gaping mouth, but he makes no effort to move towards me, as though he can't- or doesn't want to. I look at my outstretched hand- clean hands- devoid of cuts and blood, so that instead my eyes are greeted with smooth, unsplit skin. I blink. Did I imagine it?
"Serena," Soren says slowly, throat working, eyes darting, as though he is choosing his words carefully, like talking to a child with a knife in their hands. It dawns on me like the sun dawns indisputably in the sky each morning that in that moment, Soren, the Scarlet Prince, is scared. Scared of me.
His voice is low, soothing, but I can tell there is something- some unfathomable look of anguish or torment that lies creeping just below the surface of his face that tells me he is almost as terrified as I am.
"Put me down," he asks, "please." I lower my hand. Soren breathes out as the winding bonds of light disappear, holding up his hands as I fumble to get a grip on my silver sword, hand slippery with sweat. The panic is evident in his eyes, and permeates the air like a heavy mist, lingering between us. I swallow.
"You were going to attack me," I say, my voice sharp and accusing enough to hide the quivering inside me. What had just happened? Soren shifts uncomfortably, jaw tight, a strained look on his face, as if he knows there is no use denying it.
"I smelt your blood, and I couldn't control myself. Ever since I tasted you the day you arrived in my palace…" he trails off, running a clawed hand through his hair defeatedly with a long, bereaved groan. I raise my sword a little more. In response, Soren shoots me a sideways glance.
"I do not intend to touch you, but if the sword makes you feel better, keep it up," he sighs, and presses a hand to his forehead, tipping his head back and exhaling into the cooling air. I glance into the sky apprehensively, the air turning thick with a golden buttery glow, and the sky fringed with orange and yellow clouds that puff through the sky like a steam engine.
If I had my wings, I think longingly to myself, I would have liked to glide across its expanse, to run a hand through the wispy air and float freely among the stars. Yet light continues to shrink over the tree-topped horizon, dousing Soren head to toe in its warm splendour. Almost sundown. I would have to be back soon- I promised I would.
But I must know what just happened to me.. Even if it kills me.
Please report us if you find any errors so we can fix it asap!
Rising silently, I dim the flame in my hand, and push my way back through the brambles, eager to leave, carefully, carefully, listening behind me for the footfalls of a creature that might have heard my presence. I grit my teeth and walk faster. Soon enough the end of the bramble wall appears, quicker than I remember- much quicker, my feet moving from under me, eager to get out and-
My feet slide beneath me.
Mud and brambles and leaves and spiny sticks all loom into my vision as my face slams into the ground, catapulted out of the brambles and flat onto my back. For a moment, my breath leaves my lungs. Stars flash before my eyes. Wheezing and somewhat delirious, I cough, chest feeling bruised, and scramble to secure my sachet, which had been flung off my back. My head spins. I feel like I am going to vomit.
Primal instincts kick in and I bend over double, heaving, my chest tight as if five metres below water, threatening to leave me bruised and hurting for the next few days to come. Then I see the sickening gashes on my arm and all of a sudden, my stomach drops, body running cold.
Fuck.
At first there is pain, then the blood comes. Thick droplets swelling on the palms of my hands, in small gashes down my legs, down the side of my cheek. I wipe it away as it forms, blotting it out with the back of my sleeve, panic rising in my throat as my efforts only prove more and more futile.
"Shit," I whisper, "Shit, shit, shit,"
Of all of the times in the world to stumble and bleed, why in heaven's name did it have to be now? This really must be some cruel joke.
How many vampires hunted these woods I wonder? Ones who didn't attend the grand gatherings in the palace, or perhaps ones that did and still hunted anyway? How long would it take for them to smell the blood? Trolls and goblins I could defend myself against, but a pack of vampires…
"Why am I like this," I weep silently to myself, continuing in vain to try and stem the flow of blood from my body. But it keeps on coming, draining gold and then red as it pools into the ground in thick sticky rivulets of molten crimson. Panic pulses through me like a wildfire.
My necklace pulses against the skin of my chest, one, twice, three times, like a warning call, a second heart against my skin. My skin tingles, blood boils, heat rising off my skin like a bonfire on a cold night. Something is welling inside me, massing at the pit of my stomach and threatening to spill, some feeling, some power in which I have no control, growing, higher, higher... A looming shadow darts at the corner of my vision, and in the split second I have to react, I raise my hand to it, and scream. The thing inside of me bursts.
A cataclysmic boom shakes the Great Forest.
Trees rock violently, creatures falling from their branches, and birds fly screaming into the air. Then, just as quickly as it comes, everything stops. Nothing moves, not even a whisper is breathed amongst the leaves. Even the wind has ceased to howl in the eaves of the branches, and when the ground settles, the throbbing in my bones subsiding, I open my eyes that I hadn't even registered had I closed.
Soren stands, bound in coils light, just inches away from me, eyes wide and shocked with bright gold. His fangs are visible in his gaping mouth, but he makes no effort to move towards me, as though he can't- or doesn't want to. I look at my outstretched hand- clean hands- devoid of cuts and blood, so that instead my eyes are greeted with smooth, unsplit skin. I blink. Did I imagine it?
"Serena," Soren says slowly, throat working, eyes darting, as though he is choosing his words carefully, like talking to a child with a knife in their hands. It dawns on me like the sun dawns indisputably in the sky each morning that in that moment, Soren, the Scarlet Prince, is scared. Scared of me.
His voice is low, soothing, but I can tell there is something- some unfathomable look of anguish or torment that lies creeping just below the surface of his face that tells me he is almost as terrified as I am.
"Put me down," he asks, "please." I lower my hand. Soren breathes out as the winding bonds of light disappear, holding up his hands as I fumble to get a grip on my silver sword, hand slippery with sweat. The panic is evident in his eyes, and permeates the air like a heavy mist, lingering between us. I swallow.
"You were going to attack me," I say, my voice sharp and accusing enough to hide the quivering inside me. What had just happened? Soren shifts uncomfortably, jaw tight, a strained look on his face, as if he knows there is no use denying it.
"I smelt your blood, and I couldn't control myself. Ever since I tasted you the day you arrived in my palace…" he trails off, running a clawed hand through his hair defeatedly with a long, bereaved groan. I raise my sword a little more. In response, Soren shoots me a sideways glance.
"I do not intend to touch you, but if the sword makes you feel better, keep it up," he sighs, and presses a hand to his forehead, tipping his head back and exhaling into the cooling air. I glance into the sky apprehensively, the air turning thick with a golden buttery glow, and the sky fringed with orange and yellow clouds that puff through the sky like a steam engine.
If I had my wings, I think longingly to myself, I would have liked to glide across its expanse, to run a hand through the wispy air and float freely among the stars. Yet light continues to shrink over the tree-topped horizon, dousing Soren head to toe in its warm splendour. Almost sundown. I would have to be back soon- I promised I would.
But I must know what just happened to me.. Even if it kills me.
Rising silently, I dim the flame in my hand, and push my way back through the brambles, eager to leave, carefully, carefully, listening behind me for the footfalls of a creature that might have heard my presence. I grit my teeth and walk faster. Soon enough the end of the bramble wall appears, quicker than I remember- much quicker, my feet moving from under me, eager to get out and-My feet slide beneath me. Mud and brambles and leaves and spiny sticks all loom into my vision as my face slams into the ground, catapulted out of the brambles and flat onto my back. For a moment, my breath leaves my lungs. Stars flash before my eyes. Wheezing and somewhat delirious, I cough, chest feeling bruised, and scramble to secure my sachet, which had been flung off my back. My head spins. I feel like I am going to vomit.Primal instincts kick in and I bend over double, heaving, my chest tight as if five metres below water, threatening to leave me bruised and hurting for the next few days to come. Then I see the sickening gashes on my arm and all of a sudden, my stomach drops, body running cold.Fuck.At first there is pain, then the blood comes. Thick droplets swelling on the palms of my hands, in small gashes down my legs, down the side of my cheek. I wipe it away as it forms, blotting it out with the back of my sleeve, panic rising in my throat as my efforts only prove more and more futile."Shit," I whisper, "Shit, shit, shit,"Of all of the times in the world to stumble and bleed, why in heaven's name did it have to be now? This really must be some cruel joke.How many vampires hunted these woods I wonder? Ones who didn't attend the grand gatherings in the palace, or perhaps ones that did and still hunted anyway? How long would it take for them to smell the blood? Trolls and goblins I could defend myself against, but a pack of vampires"Why am I like this," I weep silently to myself, continuing in vain to try and stem the flow of blood from my body. But it keeps on coming, draining gold and then red as it pools into the ground in thick sticky rivulets of molten crimson. Panic pulses through me like a wildfire.My necklace pulses against the skin of my chest, one, twice, three times, like a warning call, a second heart against my skin. My skin tingles, blood boils, heat rising off my skin like a bonfire on a cold night. Something is welling inside me, massing at the pit of my stomach and threatening to spill, some feeling, some power in which I have no control, growing, higher, higher... A looming shadow darts at the corner of my vision, and in the split second I have to react, I raise my hand to it, and scream. The thing inside of me bursts.A cataclysmic boom shakes the Great Forest.Trees rock violently, creatures falling from their branches, and birds fly screaming into the air. Then, just as quickly as it comes, everything stops. Nothing moves, not even a whisper is breathed amongst the leaves. Even the wind has ceased to howl in the eaves of the branches, and when the ground settles, the throbbing in my bones subsiding, I open my eyes that I hadn't even registered had I closed.Soren stands, bound in coils light, just inches away from me, eyes wide and shocked with bright gold. His fangs are visible in his gaping mouth, but he makes no effort to move towards me, as though he can't- or doesn't want to. I look at my outstretched hand- clean hands- devoid of cuts and blood, so that instead my eyes are greeted with smooth, unsplit skin. I blink. Did I imagine it?"Serena," Soren says slowly, throat working, eyes darting, as though he is choosing his words carefully, like talking to a child with a knife in their hands. It dawns on me like the sun dawns indisputably in the sky each morning that in that moment, Soren, the Scarlet Prince, is scared. Scared of me. His voice is low, soothing, but I can tell there is something- some unfathomable look of anguish or torment that lies creeping just below the surface of his face that tells me he is almost as terrified as I am. "Put me down," he asks, "please." I lower my hand. Soren breathes out as the winding bonds of light disappear, holding up his hands as I fumble to get a grip on my silver sword, hand slippery with sweat. The panic is evident in his eyes, and permeates the air like a heavy mist, lingering between us. I swallow."You were going to attack me," I say, my voice sharp and accusing enough to hide the quivering inside me. What had just happened? Soren shifts uncomfortably, jaw tight, a strained look on his face, as if he knows there is no use denying it."I smelt your blood, and I couldn't control myself. Ever since I tasted you the day you arrived in my palace" he trails off, running a clawed hand through his hair defeatedly with a long, bereaved groan. I raise my sword a little more. In response, Soren shoots me a sideways glance."I do not intend to touch you, but if the sword makes you feel better, keep it up," he sighs, and presses a hand to his forehead, tipping his head back and exhaling into the cooling air. I glance into the sky apprehensively, the air turning thick with a golden buttery glow, and the sky fringed with orange and yellow clouds that puff through the sky like a steam engine. If I had my wings, I think longingly to myself, I would have liked to glide across its expanse, to run a hand through the wispy air and float freely among the stars. Yet light continues to shrink over the tree-topped horizon, dousing Soren head to toe in its warm splendour. Almost sundown. I would have to be back soon- I promised I would.But I must know what just happened to me.. Even if it kills me.
