𝕬𝖗𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖘 𝕷𝖚𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖇𝖞 - [𝗞𝗮𝘇 𝗕𝗿𝗲𝗸𝗸𝗲𝗿]

𝐱𝐯𝐢𝐢𝐢. 𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 — ensnared 

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 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍 and Aleksa had found herself alone within the deepest depths of the dark with but one crow to keep her company; darling little Cas.

 When the sun had begun to fade from the sky, Aleksa had finally bid the bartender goodbye, scooped up the remaining biscuits she had yet to stuff into her gut, and padded towards the door.

 The winter cold that erupted when the moon was present had chilled her bones and crawled over her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. Cas had swooped from the gutter, talons finding their place upon her shoulder as the left head of the mangled bird nuzzled into her hair.

 The familiarity of the Palace was astounding, considering she had never truly had the time to take in the view. Pointed towers stood tall, looming over her like monsters. The gates were topped with sharp points, threatening to tear unwanted visitors into bloody little pieces.

 She had approached with the stealth and grace of a feline; prowling along the edges of the tall walls that kept all but Grisha and royalty at bay. Her one job was to scale the wall and make her way to the courtyard, ready to assist Jesper in their hasty escape.

 She had gotten in just as easily as she had left all that time ago. The billowing darkness that caressed the earth at the peak of night was more than eager to be bent to Aleksa's will. The shadows moved like slithering snakes as tendrils coiled around her body, shielding her from view.

 The wall had stretched high, threatening to throw her from the bricks at a moment's notice; but thanks to her time around her beloved Inej; Aleksa was most certainly a competent climber — though there was no doubt in her mind that Inej would have scaled the crumbling bricks in less than half the time she had.

 The shining black leather of Aleksa's clunky boots were covered in a thin layer of mud, a cluster of dewdrops ready to trail back to the ground. The blades of sodden grass and the whisper of winter air did nothing to quell the burning bundle of nerves that had settled within the pit of Aleksa's stomach.

 Climbing the wall and groaning when the tiniest piece of rubble cut into her skin had been a welcomed distraction, yet now as she stood silently beneath the shadows of a large fern tree, her fingers twitching as she kept the shadows at her command, she felt... Nervous. The feeling was not a common one.

 Aleksa prided herself in being somebody who felt only a sliver of fear, of anxiety. The prospect of heists and the possibility of being caught had never scared her away. The sound of booming gunshots had never made fear paralyse her to the spot.

 Yet now, even beneath the guise of the shadows, even as her skin was illuminated from the use of her power; she was almost terrified at the thought of Aleksander's face coming into view.