11. Verena

CHAPTER 11

VERENA

A deafening clang shattered the stillness of the night, jolting me awake. My heart raced as I frantically scanned our makeshift camp.

The icy chill of the air clawed at my skin, but I ignored it as I searched for any sign of Eiran.

He was gone.

Panic surged through me as I strained to hear any noise over the pounding of my own heart. And then it came—the unmistakable sound of approaching footsteps.

Someone was here, someone had come for me, and I needed to hide before they found me.

I heard it then, the metallic clash of weapons, followed by a pained grunt. Eiran's instructions echoed in my head, determined to protect me at all costs.

When he had told me that if the time ever came, I should run, I didn't know what I would do. But now, with trembling limbs and blurred vision, I made a split-second decision to do just that.

My body was battered and weak, no match for the danger ahead. If I stayed, I would only be a burden to Eiran in any potential fight.

If either of us stood a chance, I couldn't get in his way.

Following Eiran's instructions, I turned and headed east, away from the river's edge.

Head east away from the river then south.

We'd meet at the Southern Sea. That was what he told me.

I had to make it to the Southern Sea.

Each step sent a searing pain shooting through my ankle, the tight fabric Eiran wrapped around it only adding to the discomfort.

But I couldn't stop.

I forced myself to keep moving, picking up speed as much as I could despite the throbbing ache. My eyes scanned the surroundings for any signs of danger as I pushed forward relentlessly.

The forest seemed to close in around me as I sprinted, my heart pounding in my ears. The dense foliage and brush made it difficult to see more than a few yards ahead, but I kept pushing forward.

Suddenly, a soldier dressed in my father's army uniform stepped out from behind a large tree, blocking my path. I skidded to a stop and reached for my dagger, adrenaline coursing through my veins. The soldier's smirk was menacing, and I braced myself for a fight.

"There you are, Princess." As he spoke, the soldier tilted his head to the side, his smirk growing wider. His blond hair fell across his forehead, covering one of his eyes. "The entire kingdom has been looking for you."

My mind raced, trying to come up with a plan. I couldn't let him get too close, but if I were to throw my dagger, I would be left defenseless with no other options.

"What for, exactly?" I asked, trying to buy myself some time. My fingers tightened around the worn handle of my dagger, bracing myself for what would come next.

"To take you back home." His words hung in the air like a thick fog, each syllable carrying a weight that seemed to press down on me. As he closed the distance between us, his scrutinizing gaze roamed over every inch of my body, searching for any sign of vulnerability. "To get you out of the hands of that damned rebellion."

My heart raced as I shifted my stance, trying to hide the pain in my injured leg, but his sharp gaze immediately homed in on my discomfort and I swore under my breath. "As you can see, I'm not in the hands of anyone, and I don't want any trouble."

"It would appear that trouble is exactly what you are, Princess. You're the heir to our kingdom, and yet, here you are, hiding out in the woods with one of those rebels instead of the palace where you belong."

The crunch of leaves underfoot filled the space between us as I took another small step to the right.

"Your father's very eager to get you home, to keep you safe."

Safe.

A snarl of defiance rose in my throat, but I bit it back. Each second spent in that palace put me in danger.

"I have a few more places in our kingdom I'd like to see first." I inched farther from him, my hand clenched around my dagger, and we began to circle each other like two predators stalking their prey. He mirrored each step I took, our eyes trained on one another. "Do you care to let my father know that I'll be home soon?"

My challenge was met with a wide grin and baring teeth that made my stomach turn.

"I'm afraid that's not possible, Princess. You're coming with me today." He wasted no time as he charged toward me, arms outstretched and determination shining in his eyes.

I stumbled backward, my injured ankle slowing me down, but still, I refused to give up.

With every fiber of my being, I tried to outrun him and escape this fate that awaited me.

My breath came in a ragged gasp as I ran, but he was right behind me, his footsteps pounding against the ground like a war drum.

I felt his hand close around my waist, his grip like iron as he pulled me back. My attempts to fight back were futile, my dagger slicing through the air uselessly as he dragged me closer with every step. The impact of my back slamming into his chest knocked the wind out of me, leaving me gasping and vulnerable.

My training in the hidden city deserted me, fear and desperation clouding my thoughts. My body could not match his brute strength and agility. In a moment of pure instinct, I thrashed and clawed at him, crying out at the searing pain as my injured ankle collided with his body.

But he only chuckled darkly, tightening his hold on me and reveling in my struggles.

"Aww, Princess," he taunted as he brushed his nose against the back of my neck, causing me to recoil away from him. "This is no way to treat the man who's saving you."

A shiver of dread shot down my spine as his hot breath brushed against my skin like a sinister caress, igniting a burning sensation that engulfed me in unease. One of his hands tangled into the hair at the base of my skull, and I could feel every hair on my body stand on end, anticipating the next move he would make with a mixture of fear and revulsion.

With a violent jerk, he pulled me back, causing me to let out a piercing scream as a searing pain shot through my head.

"Such a pretty princess." I could feel his lips pressing against my bare neck as if he were inhaling deeply and savoring my scent. It made me feel like an object, something to be possessed and controlled by him.

It made me feel utterly powerless in his hold.

Tears blurred my vision as I desperately tried to pry his fingers from behind my head. My nails dug into his skin, but he refused to release me.

"We're getting you back to the palace today." The soldier's grip on me was tight, his calm voice in stark contrast to my frantic struggles against him. "We're getting you back to the palace, and the king is going to reward me so handsomely for doing so. I am the soldier that saved the princess, that saved the heir. Can you imagine what he'll do?"

The thought made bile rise in my throat.

I wanted to scream and plead for this man to let me go. I didn't care how weak it was. I couldn't go back to the palace. I couldn't go back to my father.

A guttural, primal scream tore from my throat, but it fell on deaf ears as the soldier remained unmoved, his hand tightening on my hair as if to silence me.

"Please," I begged with tears streaming down my face.

A sudden, sharp whistle split through the air, followed by a deep thud that reverberated through my body.

The unmistakable thud of metal against flesh rang out.

The soldier stumbled back, his breath hot and panicked on my skin as he reached for his weapon.

But his other hand remained locked in my hair, wrenching me down with him as he fell. A searing pain shot through my scalp as strands of hair tore away, and I let out a cry as I landed on top of him.

The stench of sweat and blood filled my nostrils as I tried to scramble away from him.

I gasped, horrified by the gruesome sight that met my eyes. A dagger cruelly protruded from his neck, and blood gushed from the wound and his lips, staining the grass beneath him and creating a pool of scarlet around his head.

He gasped for air, his hands frantically clawing at the weapon as if he could somehow stop the bleeding, but it was no use. His fate had been sealed with that fatal blow.

My stomach churned as I spun around, searching frantically for the culprit who had thrown the dagger.

Eiran.

My eyes scanned the area, seeking any sign of movement, but he was nowhere to be seen. Without hesitation, I climbed to my feet and took off in the direction of the weapon's trajectory, my feet pounding against the ground.

South. We were headed south.

Tears and mucus streamed down my face, mixing with the dirt and sweat that coated my skin. I frantically wiped at them, a mixture of determination and terror fueling my movements. Despite the searing pain shooting through my ankle, I pushed forward with a limp, my mind solely focused on reaching Eiran before it was too late.

Each step felt like an eternity as I trudged through the forest, the sound of my own rapid breaths pounding in my ears.

Every rustle of leaves made me jump, fear gripping my heart. If this one soldier was here, there was no telling how many more were with him.

My father, with his endless resources and countless men at his disposal, could have sent an entire army after me, and that one soldier that was dying in the forest behind me wouldn't matter.

He sacrificed his life in the name of a king who would never think of him again.

As I cautiously made my way through the dense thicket, the distant sounds of shouting and grunting grew louder with each step. My hand instinctively reached out to grasp a sturdy tree trunk, its rough bark providing a sense of stability as I carefully surveyed my surroundings, determined to remain hidden from view.

The thick canopy above filtered the dim light of the rising sun, casting dappled shadows over the scene before me. Finally, I could make out Eiran's face in the midst of the chaos. His features were twisted in unbridled rage as he held one of the soldiers off the ground by his collar. The man's body hung limply, completely at Eiran's mercy.

With a snarl, Eiran brought the soldier's face close to his own, their noses almost touching. In his fury, flecks of spit flew from Eiran's mouth with each word that dripped with venom.

"You filthy fucking palace scum," he seethed, his grip on the soldier tightening. "Take this message with you to your gods. Your king that you serve won't be king much longer. Long live the rebellion."

Eiran's movements were swift and fluid as he lifted his dagger and slit the man's throat, causing blood to spray out and splatter on Eiran's face.

But he didn't flinch or shy away; instead, he seemed to revel in the brutal act.

His eyes were wild and frenzied as he wiped the blood from his dagger onto his thigh before turning it over in his hand.

The metallic flint of his blade caught my eye as I stumbled back in shock and confusion. He still held tightly on to the weapon that had just taken a life.

His dagger.

He still had his dagger, but the soldier I left behind still had one protruding from his neck.

Eiran was a man consumed by vengeance and fueled by rebellion, his features contorted with a mixture of madness and triumph.

He looked nothing like the person I had known for the past few days. There was a cruelty dripping from him that reminded me of my father.

I took another step back, needing to put distance between us.

Eiran hadn't thrown that dagger.

A rustling behind me made me spin around, my hand instinctively reaching for the dagger at my belt. But before I could even fully turn, a large figure crashed into me, their hand muffling my scream as they pinned it against my mouth.

I struggled against them, punching and kicking wildly, but they were too strong.

I was dragged back several feet, my vision obscured by the shadows. I struggled to get a clear view of my assailant, their figure towering over me in the dim light. They were much larger and more muscular than the other soldier, and I knew a physical fight would be futile.

Just as Eiran disappeared from my sight, fear and adrenaline coursed through my veins and I mustered all my strength to thrust my dagger backward with all my might. With a satisfying thud, metal met flesh and I knew I had struck my attacker.

"Fuck." The low, guttural curse escaped his lips as his hands slipped away from me.

I whirled around, desperate to escape, only to be stopped by his hand on mine.

Dacre.

He stood before me, breathing heavily and clutching his upper thigh where my dagger was now embedded. My mind raced as I tried to figure out what to do.

His hand clenched tightly around mine, and I yanked it away, heart pounding in my chest like a wild animal trying to escape.

"Don't fucking touch me." I stumbled backward.

His gaze zeroed in on my injured ankle, his dark eyes flitting back and forth between it and my face.

Had he already known?

Memories of the dagger flying past my face and the surge of my magic that had come back to me the night before flooded my mind.

The magic that felt so potent in my veins right now.

He had been here. He was watching me.

I could feel the heat emanating from his body as he got closer, and I instinctively pushed him away with all my might, slamming my hands into his solid chest.

"No!" My voice quivered with rage and fear. "Don't you dare touch me."

"Verena," he said my name with such familiarity, as if he had the right to speak it, as if it was a desperate plea.

And I hated it.

"Don't," I repeated, taking another shaky step back. The space between us felt like an ocean now, but even that distance didn't feel far enough to escape the anger and hurt burning inside me.

But he didn't listen. His hand clamped down over my mouth once more, muffling any cries or protests I could make.

With unexpected strength, he hoisted me up against his body and I had no chance in a fight against him. Even with a dagger still embedded in his leg—my dagger—he pressed on, his determination etched into every line of his face as we moved south, away from Eiran and my father's men.

He was here, and I felt at peace and on fire all at once.