Chapter nineteen - What a wild thing you are

Streets flood with blood, people, families running to where there's a shelter as shifters dominate every area. Some turned others just like a mortal.

Cries of terror cleave through the night, and Venators swarm the streets, slicing at heads, hearts...

I'd once made a promise to myself not to fear dragons, shifters, any kind of creature that could cause harm after my father's death. But my trembling hand on the hilt of my sword betrays me.

Forcing out a breath, I remind myself of the times Idris taught me to fight, the moments he'd tell me to get up even when I wanted to stop. And then, of Ivarron's words the first time I'd hesitated to catch a creature: "Fear can enter when you open that door when you embrace it and let it roam free." I'd looked up at him like any thirteen-year-old would, not knowing what I'd be getting into as he handed me a blade and said, "You don't always have to close that door, Nara. But you can choose to ignore it and prevail."

Ignore it and prevail. Ignore it and prevail. Ignore it and prevail.

I repeat, I memorize, I engrave that memory in my head, even if it were Ivarron that had said it.

The leather warms under my fingertips as I harden my grip on the sword and bolt past the marigold tree. A shifter from the side charges towards me, and those minutes of fear I'd had before, leave once I thrust my sword through her chest. Blood splurges from her mouth as I slide it out.

I haven't killed her, but I'd managed to weaken, and having the higher ground, I take out a blade from my thigh and flip it through my fingers before ramming it into her heart.

A groan tears out of her as she falls backward, and I blink, watching the blood trickle from the dagger onto my hand.

For half a heartbeat, guilt threatens to enter over how I'd wanted to protect a dragon at the arena only to kill a shifter now. But I swallow that guilt quickly, allowing no remorse to break through just how I'd felt with the Rumen weeks ago.

Screaming snaps me out of my stupor as I whirl my head to the left at another shifter, fighting off a Venator against the floor near the end of Chrysos district. Except the shifter is overpowering, and the Venator isn't just anyone. It's Link.

"No!" I shout, rushing to get to him, but spits of fire crash in front of me, and I stumble to a halt. I look up at the sky as a row of arrows encases the air, striking shifters.

I must get to Link, I must get to Link, it's the one thing on my mind as I run down the path, trying to get to the edge of where that fire line ends.

A chilling cry cuts across as I turn my head back for just one second and catch Sana, the same Venator who I'd only ever seen talking to Lorcan.

A shifter in dragon form slices its talons across her neck while she lies on the floor, and crimson splatters along the cobbled stones.

By reflex, I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head. I couldn't save her. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't have gotten there in time.

And I'm not about to do the same with Link.

So, picking up on my feet, I dart to the end, passing the fire, and head to Link, still battling the shifter. I throw the dagger mid-run towards the back of the man managing to hit him right in the spot I needed to, and with a jerk of his body, he drops onto the ground, knees first, then face.

Panting, I reach Link's wide-eyed stare as he pats down on his body, checking for injuries. "Go find Freya." I yank the blade free from the shifter and pull Link up. He looks out of it even when I add, "And try to get to safety."

His eyes grow wider as he nods a broken one, and I hand him his sword. He staggers off down the other direction as I'm ready to rush through more crowds. But a grumble behind and daunting flaps of wings ricochet in every part of my body.

Ignore it and prevail. Ignore it and prevail. Ignore it and prevail.

I twist around slowly as the dragon lands in front of me. The rolls of air from its nostrils brush my hair back in waves. Flames rise all around the dragon, encasing it until I can no longer see any scales, and as the bright blaze dies down, out comes a man with long ragged dark hair and a face pale as ice. He'd shifted back to his human form.

Fingers crack and click, drawing my gaze to them. Despite how hard it was to catch shifters, something always gave away who was human and who wasn't.

Twin tattoos on their hands, of the power they were born with. A Merati's symbol—three lines with two arrows on each one, the first meaning illusions, the second manipulator of emotions, and the third dreams. While an Umbrati shows a spiral, and just like the man in front of me, his Ardenti tattoos are of whorls of fire.

Instinct reels in as he nears, and with sharp precision, I swing my sword. He twists, causing me to miss, and his lips peel back into a vicious smile as he unfurls his palm, igniting flames.

"What a wild thing you are."

"Fuck off," I spit, launching my sword at him, at his arm, to cut down on it before he can use that power.

He laughs as he throws a shield up with that fire and widening my eyes when I see what he's about to do, I dip under him just as he sends a fireball towards me. I twirl, seeing an opening, and don't waste a second shoving the sword through skin and chest. He cries out as I tear it from him but much to my panic, he carefully turns, holding onto the blood splurging like gushing waters.

"You missed my heart," he snarls, and I don't have the chance to duck or strike again as his hand comes out to my neck, slamming me hard against the stone walls that I see the stars.

The force and pain rock my sight; I drop the sword and grab his arm to push it away.

"There's something about you that—" A vile reek of alcohol from his breath causes me to grimace. Everything seems to be blurring as he tilts his head and says, "—I can't quite pinpoint... it's almost mesmerizing."

"Wish I could say the same about you, but I'd rather pluck my eyes out." My throat closes as he presses his palms tighter.

"Well, aren't you a vulgar mortal," he trills, kicking the sword further away. "Maybe you'd benefit a bite from a shifter."

"Or maybe you'd prefer to see how it feels for me to drive my sword through your heart," I retort tightly, my nails scratching at his skin.

His smirk fades into maliciousness as he guides his gaze down to the sword. "I doubt you can right now."

My scream of anger comes out torn as he seizes my arm and his fangs lengthen, shooting me a horrid grin.

He can't bite me. He can't.

I'm trying to free myself, but he only pulls harder, locking me in place and lowering his mouth to my wrist.

No, no, no—

Small, ragged breaths throttle out of the shifter as the curve of his canines never sink in. He releases me as I choke out a gasp, and looking up, I furrow my brows in heavy confusion, noticing a black shadow wrapping around his neck.

Violent specks, a rope of some sort, the same that—

Oh, Solaris.

Stumbling away, the shifter turns his back to me, and I step out of the way to see the Golden Thief standing there with Tibith to his side, covering those large eyes. Not daring to look.

Dangerous eyes bore into the shifter, like nothing I'd ever seen from the Golden Thief before. It's almost murderous with a hint of his familiar derision as he holds his gloved hand out, focusing all his power to strangle the man.

In turn, the shifter wheezes, clawing at his own neck. "Darius, what are you doing here?"

My shocked gaze goes back and forth between the two. Darius... the Golden Thief's name is Darius.

"It's a little hard to go around stealing when an attack has broken out." The Golden Thief—Darius says, his palms closing as if tightening that magic. A harsh smirk sneaks up on him. "And a bite? How low do you have to stoop, Hake?"

"Stop—please," Hake begs.

Darius narrows his eyes, never seeming to loosen that shadow grip on the shifter. "Why should I?"

In the swift second that Darius doesn't make any choice to let go of Hake, I glance at the sword on the floor and dash for it.

I then rise, and with a curdling cry from my lungs, I plunge it into Hake's heart. A nauseating grunt of pain releases from him as the shadows disintegrate into dust. The sword was that sharp; I could feel it go through tissue... arteries.

Retracting the blade, blood glistens off the weapon, dripping as he slumps down.

Short of breath, I look up to Darius's brows rising and nodding slowly at the stiff body on the floor. "Well then. It's a good thing I never liked him." Amber gaze shifts to me. "However, I'm starting to think you enjoy all our encounters being this way, Venator."