14. Javan

14

JAVAN

I pull the carriage to a stop once we're far enough from prying eyes. The air is thick with tension, the kind that makes my blood hum with anticipation. Catandria climbs out, her expression full of anger.

"Dammit," she mutters, yanking Kynor out with a sharp tug on the chain. The gag in his mouth muffles his curses, but his eyes are all fury. I give him a swift kick for good measure, watching him writhe on the ground. Satisfaction curls in my chest.

"We're camping here tonight," I announce, my tone allowing no room for arguments. "But I've got unfinished business."

Catandria whips around, her eyes blazing. "What are you talking about?"

"Chalan," I say, letting the name hang in the air like a death sentence. "He took my stone and reneged on our deal. That doesn't sit well with me."

"You're going back?" she asks, incredulous. "Alone?"

"Yes," I say, the decision already made. "You stay here and guard our friend." I nod toward Kynor, who glares at us from the ground, impotent rage bubbling in his eyes.

She crosses her arms, defiant. "I can help."

I step closer, my eyes boring into hers. "You will help. By staying here. Chalan's life is going to be your tribute for the ritual. But tonight, I need to do this alone."

Her jaw tightens, but she doesn't argue. "Fine. Just... be careful."

I chuckle, the sound dark and low. "Careful isn't in my nature, little one. But don't worry, I'll be back before you miss me."

She huffs, but there's a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "Don't get yourself killed, demon."

I turn to leave, my steps already lighter with the promise of bloodshed. "Keep our guest entertained," I call over my shoulder. "And don't let him out of your sight."

"Wouldn't dream of it," she replies, a wicked gleam in her eyes as she looks down at Kynor. "We have so much to discuss."

As I melt into the shadows, the thrill of the hunt surges through me. Chalan won’t know what hit him. And by the time I return, the balance of power will shift once more in our favor. Tonight, vengeance is on the menu. And I never leave a meal unfinished.

The night air clings to my skin as I glide through the shadows, each step a promise of the chaos to come. The checkpoint looms ahead, and there he is—Chalan, alone, carelessly nursing a flask of something that reeks of cheap alcohol. His guard is down, blissfully ignorant of the danger lurking just beyond his sight. Perfect.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you to share?" I taunt, emerging from the darkness like a nightmare given form.

Chalan's head snaps up, eyes narrowing into slits of recognition and disdain. "You," he spits, venom lacing his words. "What are you doing here?"

I smirk, savoring the tension that crackles in the air between us. "Collecting what's mine," I reply, closing the distance with a predatory grace.

He fumbles for his sword, but he's too slow. I grab his wrist, twisting it until he drops the weapon with a pained grunt. He scrambles, managing to grab a smaller dagger and slice up my arm. There's no pain, just an irritating sting.

He has too much fight for his own good.

"Where's your bravado now, captain?" I taunt, savoring the flicker of fear in his eyes. "You've made the biggest mistake of your life by disrespecting me."

"You won't get away with this," he snarls, but I can see the doubt in his eyes. His breath comes in ragged gasps, desperation mingling with dread. I tighten my grip on his wrist, feeling the bones creak under the pressure. The smell of cheap alcohol and fear fills the air, intoxicating.

"Won't I?" I sneer, leaning closer so he can feel the malevolence radiating off me. "Watch me."

I drive my knee into his gut, doubling him over with a satisfying groan. Before he can even think about recovering, I hoist him over my shoulder, his weight barely a burden. We melt back into the shadows, my every step silent and calculated.

The checkpoint is alive with activity, guards and soldiers bustling about, distracted by their own duties. Luck, it seems, is on my side. Most of them are too preoccupied to notice us slipping away. We're almost clear when I catch a glimpse of another noble dark elf. Her sharp eyes scan the area, and for a moment, they lock onto us. Recognition flares in her gaze.

"Help! He's—" she starts, her voice rising in alarm. But I’m faster. In an instant, I rush over and I slam into her body with a force that drive her to the ground. My free hand clamps over her mouth, silencing her. Then, I take her by the neck and slam her against the nearest building, the impact driving the breath from her lungs. Her eyes widen in shock and fear as I lean in close, my own eyes promising retribution if she dares to make another sound.

"Shut up," I hiss, my grip tightening. Her eyes widen in fear. "I'll rip your tongue out if you yell like that again."

She struggles, but I’m stronger. A quick blow to the back of the head, and she goes limp in my arms. I sling her over my other shoulder, the weight of two dark elves slowing me down slightly, but I press on.

The edge of the forest is in sight when a sharp pain lances through my side. I glance down to see blood seeping from a wound—must've been a lucky shot from one of Chalan’s flailing limbs.

"You're heavier than you look," I mutter, gritting my teeth against the pain.

I drag them both through the underbrush, each step taking us closer to the camp and to Catandria. She’ll be thrilled with what I've caught for us.