33. AURELIA

Chapter thirty-three

AURELIA

M y body started to drain of any last remnant of life found within. The golden blood continued to drip from the wounds that were being opened. As soon as my skin tried to heal itself, I could feel the piercing of a new knife or sharp object slashing through it.

Blood came out slower and slower, making me dizzy and lightheaded.

Dying would be better than this.

I wish they would kill me.

No one was ever going to find me. No one was ever going to know where I was.

My body grew hot from the heat of everyone near watching or partaking in my gold. I closed my eyes, feeling nauseous. Beads of sweat were pooling down my forehead. My head was pounding, and my body felt limp.

This was what it felt like to die.

Alone, with my body shutting down.

A man near me cackled with excitement as he cut a thin line underneath my shoulder blade, cutting deep with precision. I wanted so badly to headbutt him away, but I couldn't move. The energy that had once been in my body had been completely drained, almost non-existent. My eyes were squeezed shut. I didn't want to die while watching them make me bleed out.

I teetered on the brink of unconsciousness when a jarring noise rattled my senses. An outbreak of commotion disoriented the event, and everyone was at a loss for where the banging was coming from. My foggy perception also attempted to look for the source.

The noise echoed around the cold and unyielding concrete, all of the scraggly men pivoting in every direction in search of the origin.

The older fisherman at my arm held his cup tighter, knowing that whatever was behind the wall would disrupt his opportunity to clean me dry. His wrinkles scrunched tighter, his eyes bulging, the blood vessels a deep and nerve-wracking red.

Movement stopped in the bar, all eyes on the side wall, watching it as it shook with uneven tremors.

BANG.

There was another hit. Dust and debris fluttered through the air as it reached the floor.

BANG.

All the men moved slowly toward the opposite wall, anticipating the wall to crumble down.

"Take me out!" I begged, my voice harsh and scratchy. I feared what was on the other side of the wall, trying to get in. I had been sitting in this chair being sucked dry for hours. My muscles ached and were weak. Moving the chair wasn't an option, either, since it was bolted to the floor.

BANG.

The wall started to crackle, and the floor rumbled beneath our feet.

I attempted to move my hands again, pushing through my soreness and lack of energy.

Nothing.

BANG.

It was getting louder. The wall shuddered and fissured, the smooth and seamless surface producing a jagged crack down the center. The split of the wall scattered along the area of the wall, shattering small pieces of concrete into the audience. The sound rippled in the air. Who was trying to break in? What were they doing to break down a pure wall of concrete?

BANG.

My heart stopped in place.

There was one last bang before the wall collapsed on itself. On the opposing wall, a wave of panic swept through the room, sending them into a frenzy of panicked bodies.

The wall crumbled, large shards hitting the ground and sending smaller pieces flinging through the air. There was a heavy whoosh sound, and something started to barge in. Her name filled every whit of my body and my senses.

Wait.

Flew in.

Once the smoke and debris died down, I saw her flying through the bar.

"Belle!" my parched voice shouted through the chaotic room. The panic and tension were palpable as screams and urgent shouts were released. Bodies flew in every which way, trying to get away from the dragon soaring through the small room.

"Damian?" I heard myself ask out loud. He was soaring on Belle's back, his face in vengeance, scrunched up in hatred. A sigh escaped my lips, my heart in shock and in awe.

He came back.

My heart fluttered at the thought. They came back to rescue me.

Tears welled up in my eyes. I would not be caught up in the trade of Scalebornes. Adrenaline surged through my nearly lifeless body, providing hope. Molten currents of energy raced through my veins, as if a volcano was erupting within me. The golden blood that was left coursed with strength.

I was going to be able to find the egg. And, hopefully, before anyone else did.

A wave of heat blasted against my cheeks as flames detonated. Belle was incinerating everyone in her path. Black dust filled the air and fell each time she opened her snout, the fire erupting dangerously. I coughed from inhaling the particles that once used to be human.

I couldn't be any more proud of Belle.

Damian hopped off her back as she continued to claw at people, kick the tables and glass, and release the wrath of her flames. Her tail whipped back and forth lethally against bodies in the way. The sounds of running, screaming, and glass shattering were all that I was focused on.

Damian came up to me, sadness in his eyes as he looked at the bolts that held me. "You came back?" I breathed out, barely able to move my chest. Slowly looking into his eyes, my heart beat faster.

He met my gaze, his eyes full of terror and relief at seeing me alive. "I was stupid for leaving you, my Queen. I will be by your side the rest of your journey, protecting you. I promise."

His fingers grabbed the metal bars holding down my wrists. He quickly moved his hands to get the metal to release. The clasp on my right hand sprung open. I moved my arm up, looking at the ghostly white skin that resulted from the pressure of the metal. My fingers became numb from the lack of movement.

Damian shuffled to remove my wrist from the left clasp. He was struggling with the heavy and tight metal clinging to my skin.

A brooding black figure walked toward us, not paying attention to the rest of the commotion surrounding him. My vision became blurry surrounding his figure. Everything felt as if it were fading to black as Damian remained crystal clear.

"Damian," I breathed out in a warning.

Behind him stood a burly figure. His mane of unruly black hair framed his thick face. His boots started to make their way to where we sat. Damian slowly turned and took in the figure in front of us, an audible gulp pushing down his throat.

The background of him was hazy except for a few wisps of fire and smoke wafting upward, Belle continuing her job.

"She's not yours to take," he said, flashing his awful teeth in our direction, a snarl encapsulating his lips.

"She's not an object," Damian said back, his voice deep and protective.

"Finders keepers," the brooding man said as he hunched over the both of us. His grin was far too vast to be out of kindness. His words sizzled out of his mouth, sending a wave of spit hitting both of us in the face. His towering body dominated over each of us.

Not knowing how Damian would respond, I watched in concern as he turned back to me, quickly releasing the last bolt from the clasp on my left hand in one swift movement. The large obscure man swiped at Damian to knock him out, but Damian ducked and lunged in the opposite direction, barely missing his arms swiveling to where he originally was.

Time was running thin. The anxiety made my fingers numb as I worked at the hinges, breaking a nail in the process. The clasp was still snug on my ankles.

Walking to my left, Damian led away the man, so that I could free myself. The large, brooding man picked Damian up without a thought, holding him high in the air.

I gasped as I was bent over, fumbling through the metal on my ankles. "Damian!" I shrieked, fumbling faster with the bolts on my cuffs.

There was a demanding, heart-stopping smack as Damian hit the wall and fell to the floor. He groaned as he lay flat on the concrete, attempting to put his right hand forward to lift himself up. The wicked man wobbled closer to him to hurt him again. Damian was barely moving. Only the slight movements of his chest rising and falling caught my eye.

"Damian! Get up!" The rush of adrenaline hit me, and I was filled with energy. The need to release the metal around my ankles sent shivers down my spine. My fire abilities would be useless if I couldn't be free. I had to get closer.

The man enclosed himself on Damian, and I released the last clasps holding me captive. I jumped up and faced him. He was hunching over to pick up Damian as he lay almost lifeless on the floor. His groans signaled that he was still alive.

I lifted my arms up to create large balls of fire, mustering every ounce of strength that I had left in me. Fireballs danced and crackled through the air, their searing heat leaving trails of shimmering light in their wake. With a swift motion, I hurled them toward him, each impact eliciting a sharp yelp of pain from his lips. He turned over his whole shoulder so quickly I thought he was going to pounce and murder me right that second. Narrowed slits formed beneath his furrowed brow as he peered intently, his gaze sharp and piercing.

I felt useless against him. His towering stature loomed, casting a daunting shadow that seemed to swallow the room whole. Each movement he made exuded an aura of power and dominance, his mere presence instilling a chilling sense of vulnerability within me. He turned to face me completely, and I felt like the victim: the predator and the prey. I quickly reminded myself that I had unique abilities that he didn't know the extent of.

I looked over to Belle. She was finishing off the remaining moving bodies. She was chewing them and eating them like twigs. It gave me hope that she was almost finished and that, soon enough, I would not be alone in this battle.

"Little girl. What do you think you are doing? I could give you everything you want. Join me." He slowly walked toward me as if wanting me to trust him.

"You have nothing that I could ever want. You will use me until I bleed dry." I looked down along my neck, arms, chest, and legs to see all of the slashes that were crusted over in blood. "Damian's right. I am just an object to you and will always be seen as one."

He scowled, moving closer to me, glass crunching beneath his feet. I moved backward, feeling the cool breeze from the open wall behind me, leading into the night. Glass broke beneath my feet, moving along the slickness of the cold concrete. There were upturned tables and chairs scattered along the floor that I was conscious about, not wanting to trip over.

I could tell that the bar was empty with the echoes each step ricocheted between the walls. Each person either died or quickly fled, saving themselves.

The option to flee surged my mind. But I couldn't leave Damian there–not to this scoundrel. There was something there between us, an unsaid intention to protect each other. Maybe he cared about me more than I thought.

My arms lifted once more, and the last of my strength channeled into flickering flames that danced toward him. A cry erupted from his lips as he recoiled, clawing at his burning eyes. My focus shifted to Belle, my energy depleted, leaving me unable to conjure even the smallest spark.

In a flurry of movement, I made my way to Belle's side as she wrapped up her snack, her attention snapping to the urgency of the moment. A sense of reliance on her washed over me, her very presence a comforting anchor amidst the chaos. Across the space between us, our unspoken connection pulsed with mutual understanding, bridging the gap between our thoughts and intentions.

Her tongue crossed over her lips, licking them clean. At any other point, I would've been disgusted, and my stomach would've turned, but I was only focused on the brooding man and Damian lying on the floor.

I could still hear the man screeching from his pain, but I knew I didn't have much time. Belle and I made contact.

"Ready?" I asked her.

"Rasandrea 1 ."

Her eyes glared together in rage.

Instantly, the man turned to us, and I scowled. His eyes were swollen, bloody, and an unnerving purple color. His eyelids started to droop in directions that weren't normal, and the irises weren't black anymore. They were actually… white. My breath caught in my throat as I witnessed the consequence of my action, a gasp escaping me as horror washed over me. His vision was taken from him. He was blind.

He sneered in our direction and approached us, stumbling as he moved. The smoke engulfed my view, as Belle incinerated anything or anyone in her path, the beams and chairs rippling with pops from the embers at their base.

The bar was eerily empty. The silence was broken only by the faint sound of his footsteps echoing across the room, drawing nearer to us with each passing moment. Death gleamed in his eyes as he reached into one of his large black boots, grabbing a knife out, holding it high. His head tilted from side to side, listening to our movement, to where we were. The whites of his irises showcased dark red and orange flames dancing inside them as he neared us, only feet away.

Belle and I looked over at Damian. His arms were pushing up off the ground, trying to help lift the weight of his body. The dark man was getting closer, and Belle and I rushed over to Damian, wanting to help him.

We reached him in fear of the man getting closer. He was making his way in our direction, knife held high, the silver glimmering in the heat of the flames.

I grabbed Damian's arms and pulled him to be upright on his feet. He put one hand against his head in pain.

"Hurry!" I urged, tugging his arms to the opening of the wall.

He limply started to move. Belle's eyebrows furrowed slightly, knitting together in a subtle display of concern as her gaze remained fixed on him, tracking his gradual approach toward us. Belle was weak, her hurt foot still limping, but more aggressively now that she had put a lot of tension on it. Her eyes lacked their usual sparkle, their once vibrant gleam now dimmed like a faded gemstone. She looked exactly how I felt, and if that was the case, then she had no more fire or energy, either.

"Scale slum, you can't run from me forever," the man proclaimed as he limped closer and closer to us. Panting, my heart raced a thousand miles a minute. We were stumbling on all the broken chairs and tables, unable to move fast enough.

Struggling to hold Damian up, my limbs shook as I helped us move across the underground bar, trying to get away from the man.

"It's my fault," Damian said through resisted words.

"Just move quickly!" I said, glancing back, watching the guy near us.

He reached us and launched with his knife flying high in the air. I shoved Damian and myself off to the side, away from his dangerous hand. Chairs rattled as we flung into them, falling to the floor. Damian groaned, raising his hand to his head.

My legs and arms couldn't move. I was in shock.

The man came toward the sound that we made, sauntering with the knife twisting in his hand, his tongue rolling over his teeth. Damian got up on his hands and knees, standing to face him. He grabbed the knife in his boot; the dagger serrated and long.

Damian, limping and weak, raced toward the man as swiftly as he could without making noise, his knife held high in his hand. The man listened to his footsteps, following the sound of them. His knife was longer. Bigger. Stronger. Like him.

Damian swiped at his gut, missing as the man jumped backward, a smirk crossing his lips. A grumble of a laugh erupted from his chest, becoming exhilarated from the game.

He raised his knife, attempting to plunge it down on Damian, but Damian rolled, barely missing the strength of his aim. As Damian rolled, he swiped the blade at his legs, slicing them open, eliciting a howl from the large man's lips.

The man kicked hard with his boot, hitting Damian and making him moan in pain. "Damian, get up!" I yelled, watching as the man lifted the dagger in his hands, thrusting it down in Damian's back.

1. Rasandrea (Rah-sawn-dreh-aw): Ready