Chapter 11

A L I N A

The Vorathiel soldiers aren’t far behind. Their guttural voices echo through the forest, barking orders to one another. My pulse quickens, and I force my legs to move, even as the pain screams through me.

I called out to anyone that might hear, anyone still left alive in the castle. But I got no response. Not a single one. And that's when I realise, I truly am on my own...

“Don’t let her get away!” one of them shouts, snapping my focus back to the present.

Panic claws at my throat. My castle—my home—is gone, left in ruins behind me. My parents… My chest constricts, the image of their lifeless bodies flashing in my mind. A sob threatens to escape, but I shove it down. I don’t have time to grieve. Not now.

The air is cold, biting against my exposed skin, but it’s not the comforting chill I’ve always known. I'm used to the cold, it's a part of me. But this cold is unwelcoming, and reminds me of how weak I am at this moment. My power feels distant, dulled by the poison coursing through my veins. The silver wounds refuse to heal, the metallic sting seeping deeper into my body with every heartbeat.

I stumble over a root, catching myself against a tree. My vision blurs, the world tilting dangerously. I blink hard, trying to focus, but the shadows of the forest seem to shift, growing larger, and closer.

“Keep moving, keep moving...” I whisper to myself, my voice hoarse.

But my body doesn’t listen. My legs buckle, and I collapse to my knees, gasping for air. The cool earth beneath me does little to soothe the fire burning in my veins.

The sound of footsteps grows louder. They’re closing in.

“No,” I mutter, pushing myself upright. “Not like this...”

I stagger forward, each step more laboured as I struggle to keep myself upright. The trees blur together, their dark forms melding into one endless expanse. The voices of the soldiers grow clearer, their laughter cruel and mocking.

“She’s slowing down,” one of them says. “She won’t get far.”

Fear courses through me, mingling with exhaustion and despair. I can’t let them catch me. I can’t let them take me back to Magnus...

The trees rustle ahead, and my heart leaps into my throat. Are there more of them waiting for me? Or worse, is this a trap...?

I force myself to keep moving, my breath ragged and shallow. The pain in my side flares, and I clutch the wound, feeling the sticky warmth of my own blood seep through my fingers.

The soldiers’ voices are so close now that I can hear their heavy boots crashing through the forest.

“There she is!”

I whirl around, my vision swimming, and see them emerge from the shadows. Four of them, clad in dark blue and gold armour that gleams faintly in the moonlight. Their swords are drawn, the silver edges glinting menacingly. Vorathiel soldiers.

I back away, my legs trembling, until my heel catches on a root, and I nearly fall.

“Nowhere left to run, Lady Alina,” one of them sneers, his lips curling into a cruel smile.

My hands tremble as I raise them, summoning what little strength I have left. The air around me grows colder, the faintest trace of frost forming on the ground.

But it’s weak. Too weak to do anything...

They laugh, their eyes gleaming with sadistic amusement.

“Aren't you supposed to be powerful, the most powerful Xalveria this generation has ever known...? Now look at you...” another taunts, taking a step closer.

I grit my teeth, pushing harder, but the pain in my chest spreads, and my knees threaten to give out again.

“Stay back!” I warn, though my voice is barely above a whisper.

They don’t listen.

One of them lunges forward, his sword raised. I brace myself, gathering every last shred of strength I have left to defend myself.

But before I can act, a sound cuts through the night—the sharp, rustling crack of movement in the trees.

The soldier pauses, his head jerking toward the noise.

“What was that?”

"I don't know... but we're not alone here..." Another says and that's when I pick up two brand new scents, ones that are completely unfamiliar to me, and one of them, one of them stands out to me the most...

I don’t have time to wonder. I turn my attention in the direction of the sound and watch as the shadows shift, and two figures emerge from the darkness like specters. They move with precision and speed, their blades glinting as they strike.

The first man, a towering figure with broad shoulders and long, dark, unruly curly hair, slashes through the nearest soldier with ruthless efficiency, his sword being gigantic and almost the length of his entire body. The soldier doesn’t even have time to scream before collapsing to the ground, split in two by the large man's sword.

The second man is muscular as well, though slightly taller than the first man, his hair pitch black and wavy. His movements are more fluid and precise compared to the first man's rigidness. He dispatches another soldier with ease, his blade slicing through the air in a deadly arc.

The remaining soldiers barely have time to react. The bulky man drives his sword through one’s chest, while the other man sweeps the legs out from under the last, finishing him with a swift, brutal strike.

It’s over in seconds.

I stand frozen, my mind struggling to process what just happened. The two men turn to me, their expressions questionable in the dim, evening light.

“Who…” My voice falters, the words catching in my throat. “Who are you?”

The buffer man steps closer, and that's when I take a good look at him. His eyes hazel eyes shimmer under the moonlight as they meet my own, his features are strong and defined, his lips full, and his eyebrows thick. He doesn’t answer, his gaze instead shifting to my body as he analyses me.

“You’re hurt,” he says, his voice deep and smooth, sending a sudden chill running through my whole body.

The larger man approaches as well, his dark eyes narrowing as he studies me, swinging his large sword over his shoulder as the blood drips from it.

“She’s losing too much blood,” he mutters, his tone sharp but not unkind. And that's when I realise blood is still gushing profusely from all my wounds.

I try to speak, to demand answers, but the world tilts again, and my legs give out beneath me.

Before I know it, the man in front of me steps forward swiftly and caught me before I hit the ground, his grip surprisingly gentle.

“Hey..." he calls out, his tone wary as he stares down at me. "Stay with me,” he says, his voice soothing as he stares at me carefully.

I blink up at him, my vision fading, my breathing now laboured as my body shakes in agony.

“Why…?” The question dies on my lips as the darkness closes in.

The last thing I hear is the man’s voice, calm and resolute.

“We need to move. Now.”

Then, everything goes black.