25. Aramis

Chapter 25

Aramis

I sprint through the woods, the branches brushing against my arms and the ground crunching beneath my feet.

My heart pounds with every step as I try to keep my balance on the treacherous terrain. As the skyline lightens with the blush of morning, the rising sun battles with the clouds looming above, casting an eerie glow over the landscape. Breathing hurts, my muscles are strained and sweat drenches my brow but I keep running, Sybil's family ring safely tucked in my pocket with Lemon.

I scan the surroundings, hoping for any sign—any trace—that can lead me to her captors. With each passing hour, my hope wanes. My mind is drowning in thoughts of Aries' betrayal and Sybil's well-being, but I press forward, refusing to let despair consume me.

She has to be alive.

Almost in confirmation, the bond tugs in my chest, spurring me onwards. The branches viciously grasp at my clothes, etching deep scratches and tearing at the fabric. The rumble of thunder echoes from afar while the heavy gray storm clouds battle with the peachy glow painted on the horizon. The air carries the heavy anticipation of more rain, filling my nostrils with the earthy scent.

I can't afford to lose hope, not now. Not when she is so close to seeing me as a male and not a monster.

A distant rustling breaks the silence, making me slow down and become a quiet shadow. I follow the sound, heart racing, and I crouch low, unsheathing my sword. The morning breeze carries the unmistakable scents of sweat, damp fur, and smoke. Could it be Aries?

I move closer, careful not to be seen. A bellow of rage rents the air, followed by a loud smack and a small cry. Her cry. Rage floods my blood, hot as molten gold, and all thoughts of stealth leave my mind.

I step out of my hiding space, my steps confident, and sprint to the male. His back is to me and his hand is held high, ready to strike. One sleek motion of my sword and his hand drops to the ground as screeching screams echo in the woods. The shifter clutches his stump, and as he moves, I see Sybil bound to a tree with purple bruises forming on her cheek. Our eyes meet briefly, relief making her shoulders drop and her eyes glaze over. Before the shifter can move, I point my sword to his neck.

"I was going to say if you lay another finger on her, you'll lose your hand, but I got carried away." I raise my shoulders, but the man's face is the portrait of rage, his leathers getting soaked as his blood drips everywhere.

"You scum," the man screams. Three more shifters appear, one of them in their wolf form. I look at their faces, and a rush of relief washes over me as I realize they are not shifters from the camp. Maybe Aries is not such an asshole after all.

"Don't let him take her," the tallest of the four says, and they all widen their stance, ready to defend what they think is theirs.

Too bad Sybil is mine .

With a surge of adrenaline, I twist my sword and charge at the wolf shifter closest to me. His eyes flash with a menacing yellow hue as his body contorts and reshapes. The air crackles with tension as my blade slices effortlessly through him, the metallic tang of blood filling the air as he crumples to the ground with a resounding thump.

I pivot swiftly, my senses on high alert, locking eyes with the remaining three shifters. In an instant, one of them morphs into a sleek, ebony panther, muscles rippling beneath its glossy fur. It lunges toward me, a blur of feral grace. I react instinctively, narrowly evading its razor-sharp claws. The impact sends a jolt of pain through my forearm, the searing sensation mingling with the adrenaline coursing through my veins.

"Aramis, watch out!" Sybil cries out.

As I turn, the panther springs toward me, its claws outstretched. I'm sent crashing to the ground, the impact leaving me gasping for air. One arm curls protectively over the pocket where Lemon has stayed hidden. Above me, the massive beast's eyes glaze over, and over its shoulder, my sword juts out of its back. With a grunt, I shove its weight off my body. Every inch of me aches, and the woods spins dangerously as I push to my feet. The scent of damp earth mingles with the metallic tang of blood, filling my nostrils as I press on, fuelled by a potent mix of anger and determination. Before I can attack the man with the stump, he shifts into a battered rat—one I have seen before—and runs away.

"Aramis," Sybil gasps. When I look at her, the last shifter, a man my age, holds a dagger to her throat, but his hands are shaking.

"Let her go," I say as I narrow my eyes at him. I can't help but think that, with my magic, this confrontation would have been resolved by now.

"I-I can't!" The man says, his knuckles white from his tight grip on the dagger. Sybil's eyes are wide, but I can see she trusts me.

"The queen wants her," the man continues. Desperation laces his every word. "I appreciate the resolve," I say calmly as I wipe my bloody palms on my tunic before yanking my sword from the panther. The sight of the dead body makes my stomach turn—another shifter dead at my hand.

Don't be shy, let her see the true you, Aramis. You love to kill. Tricella's voice whispers in my head and catches me off guard. Was it real? Am I losing my mind? I nearly empty my stomach but hold my composure.

"But if you kill her," I continue, dragging my sword on the ground, "you won't have anything to bring to your Queen?—"

"She is not my Queen!" the man screams, spitting his words at me. I furrow my brows in confusion, but Sybil uses the moment to her advantage.

Wielding her light magic, she burns the ropes holding her captive. She twists, jabbing her elbow into the stomach of her captor, who doubles over coughing and loses his grip on his dagger. I race forward, pick up the dagger, and slam the pommel of my sword into his temple. Holding his head, he slides down against the tree trunk Sybil was bound to and... he starts crying.

"Please—" he whimpers.

Sybil and I look at each other in confusion. I sheath my sword but keep his dagger in my hand.

"Tell us the truth or bear the consequences," I answer as Sybil stands behind me. Her eyes soften as the man keeps sobbing, and I think to myself that the woman truly is too good for her own good.

"Please don't hurt me. I have a family. I was just doing what I was told."

I lift his chin with the toe of my boot, forcing him to look at me. "Did you hurt her?"

"I-I-" he stammers, looking between me and Sybil behind me.

"I'll only repeat myself one time. Did you lay a hand on her?"

"N-no! Only just now to keep her from running." Tears stream down his face, leaving muddy tracks on his olive skin. "Only James touched her when she head-butted him."

The corners of my lips turn up in pride, but I make a mental note to teach her how to drop an opponent larger than her. She might have the right spirit, but the skills are necessary.

"Who gave the order? Do you act outside of the Council of Thorns?" I wipe the dagger against my pant leg before sliding it into its new home, the little sheath next to my sword, and cross my arms over my chest.

"Fuck the Council of Thorns," he spits at my feet. The clogs in my mind start turning, trying to put pieces together.

The shifter shakes his head and lets it fall forward hiding his eyes, "What have they done to help our people? Gathered them up in a little camp to play safe village while hundreds of shifters are still locked in her dungeons? How does that change things?"

I push down the need to defend the Council and Victor; I need him to keep talking.

"Peace," he continues with a sad laugh. "They want peace, but at what cost? The Queen does not give a shit about us shifters. Turns out,she does not give a shit about elementals either. Fuck, I don't think she has a heart because how can someone so cruel have one?"

Did you ever wonder why there were never elemental bodies left behind? Victor's voice booms in my head.

"You kidnapped the elementals living in the villages attacked by Tricella," I say, attempting to prove a theory.

After a moment of hesitation, he slumps his shoulders even further, defeated in his attempt to maintain control of the situation.

"What a fucking stupid plan, isn't it?" The man confirms my suspicions and looks at me. His blue eyes are bloodshot and surrounded by dark circles. I notice how run down his clothes are, how they hang on his body without shape. His cheeks are caved in and his fingers jitter. When was the last time this man ate something?

"We thought we could use the elementals to bargain with her. If she was going to threaten our people, we would threaten hers."

"Who is ‘we?'" Sybil asks, stepping forward, head tilted.

"We don't have a name. All we want is justice. We're shifters, just like you, and we're tired of abandoning our homes out of fear. Tired of having to bow our heads. Do you want to know what Tricella said when we offered fifty elementals in exchange for fifty shifters?"

I hold my breath. What has become of this kingdom?

"Kill. Them. All," he enunciates every word as if he still can't believe them. "So we freed them all because we could not bear the thought of becoming as tyrannical as she is."

Sybil looks at me, and I can tell she is desperate to tell me something, but bites her tongue. Instead, she slowly approaches the man sitting against the tree trunk.

My hand flies to the hilt of my sword, ready to reach for her, but she holds up a hand to stop me and crouches in front of the man.

"You're all she wants," he says when they're on the same level. His voice cracks. "We didn't want to sacrifice one of our own, but we were trying to save our families."

Guilt, hot and acrid, flows through me at the thought of the men I've killed. This deadly cycle needs to end.

Sybil takes the man's hands in hers, and her palms emit the faintest glow that makes his bloodshot eyes shine in wonder. Slowly, his bruises and cuts heal, his cheeks get fuller, and his complexion regains a healthy color.

"I forgive you," she whispers. "We are going to fix this, I promise."

The man nods at her in gratitude.

"Go. Go to your companions and tell them that the Council of Thorns showed you mercy," I say. "Then, go home to your family and take them far from here. Take the routes going east to the mountains. Who knows, you might find people willing to help you find some peace." Sybil smiles in my direction, and I continue, "There's honor in running away too, especially when it means safeguarding the most valuable thing you have: your life."

I glance down as I feel a barely discernible crack along the bands at my wrists, but they remain firmly attached, my powers inaccessible.

The man stands and brushes the dirt off his clothes. Sybil returns to my side and interlocks her fingers with mine.

"I will not forget your kindness, Sybil Vandaleur and Prince Aramis," the man says.he effects of Sybil's magic are unmistakable. He holds a hand to his chest and continues, "My name is Errik. I hope to meet you again one day, in a kingdom where we're all at peace."

He turns on his feet, walking westward as the sun finally peeks through the clouds.

I turn my back on him, and my eyes catch on her—a silent understanding passing through us.

I know she'd like to chide me for losing my temper, and she knows I'd like to tell her that she can't show mercy to every stranger she meets. But we both know we did the right thing—that we complement each other. Together, we will rebuild this kingdom and give justice to these people.

Not wanting to waste one more second, I rush forward to gather her in my arms, cherishing the weight of her against me. She wraps her arms around my neck, and I bury my face into her long brown hair, inhaling her familiar scent of lavender and black tea.

"I thought I lost you," the words a mere whisper. I push her back an arm's length away, and she slides her hands on my chest. Their warmth seeps through my wet clothes. I gingerly touch the blood blossoming on her cheek, and she flinches at my touch as I run my finger along the bone. "I don't think it's broken, just bruised. If I could kill him again for laying a hand on you, I would."

"You found me," she says, tears lining her eyes. She blinks, raising her hand to wipe at her face. The intensity of her gaze is about to make me lose my restraints.

"Sybil, I—" I go to kiss her, and our lips barely touch when Lemon squirms inside my tunic pocket squished between our bodies. He pokes his head out and chitters at me before climbing into Sybil's arms.

"Lemon!" she squeals and kisses the top of his head. He wiggles in her arms before climbing to curl around her neck and lick her injured cheek. The blossoming bruise fades under the creature's touch.

"This sassy rascal is nothing but trouble," I say as I rub his head. Lemon lets out a disgruntled squeak before climbing down her skirts to the forest floor. My hand brushes against her cheek. Her breath hitches at the contact, and her eyes meet mine. They are a sea of brown and green, a reflection of the wild forest.

"Thank you, for protecting him. For coming for me," she says, nibbling her bottom lip.

"Sybil," I say, cupping her face between my hands and tenderly stroking her cheeks with my thumbs. "I would move mountains to find you." I kiss her deeply.