Flame of the Huntress

Chance

Our pants are the only sounds left in the alleyway, after battling it out for the past few minutes. Mostly hand to hand combat, with my occasional dagger slipping through. A punch to my jaw was the only real damage he hit, which I gracefully returned with a slash over his broad chest.

His scowl is still draped across his face as he finally speaks, "Enough", his voice a low rasp as he manages to catch his breath.

His hair is still a shiny pearl, sadly I did not get the chance to infect it with red.

I tighten my grip on my dagger, steading my breath, "Tell me what you want from me," I say between stern, unflinching brows.

He takes a deep breath, steadying his heart beat.

One flick of my damn wrist and my dagger will go straight between those delicate ribs straight to his pitiful heart.

As if reading my intent he finally speaks, "If you desire earnings" his perfectly chiseled face glints in the lantern's light, "I can give you far more than that poor banker's daughter ever could", he slightly shifts displaying a taunt grin, "Though, I have a feeling what I can truly give will be ever more sastiable than that".

My head tilts slightly, wearingly, "What do you have in mind?" my eyes spark with intrigue.

His mouth slightly opens, making me believe he will finally speak, but they just as quickly. His eyes slowly take me from head to toe, a slight heat reaches my cheeks.

Then, he turns away from me. Now, facing the dimly lit passage and heads down it in a powerful stride, leaving me–the dagger in my hand feeling like a dead weight.

Between his steps, he turns his head slightly causing the black ink to glint from the lantern light, and halts his steps for a moment only to murmur, "Come".

My feet hesitate at first, as I stare straight between his back, my power surfacing to the top threatening to end it right here.

But before my thoughts can go any further, turns back to the darkness, "Rowan," he whispers, "My name is Rowan'', he continues his stride once more.

~~~~~~~

Rowan. A name, to others, is only a label and nothing more. Something strangers may know, friends and families may own–Too most.

But not to me or to a warrior.

A name represents a past, a potential future. A tool used to manipulate and kill the ones you love. Yet he shared that with me, knowing the potential risks.

As I stare at Rowan's back, as he slowly is swallowed by the night, a chill curses through my spine that has nothing to do with the midnight breeze.

I can't help but think that he could have killed me at any moment during our feud. But, for some reason, chose not to.

I have a feeling I will find out why soon enough as my footsteps begin to follow behind Rowan's.

~~~~~~

A few glances made our way, mostly in fear of the mammoth of a warrior five feet in front of me. However, for the most part we remained in the shadows. It's about to turn dawn, causing the cobblestone roads and shops life to die away.

Still the smell of freshly baked bread kisses my nose, but I don't let my vigilance falter as I continue to analyze my surroundings encase this wonder may be a calculated trap.

I can already hear Arobynn yelling how foolish I've become to blindly be led to a place unknown, and by a Fae warrior at that. Just at the thought, my back aches thinking of the whips I would have to endure if he found out.

No, I'm out. I'm eighteen, he no longer can control me.

I try to remind myself, as I lift my chin higher, but my breaths grow uneven as if sensing the lie.

We are almost out of the city as Rowan turns his head for the first time, breaking the uncomfortable silence, "You'll attract all the street dweller's panting like that," His tattoos wrinkle in agitation, but they slightly soften as he adds, "We're almost there".

I give a tight nod even though he cannot see it.

I am well aware of where we are as before any missions. I am keen on scoping the grounds–It also helps that I have been on plenty of missions here, and taverns.

Currently we are making ourselves east, away from the city. So far about fifteen miles from the Rue's cavern heading towards the Genra's forest.

Which seems odd considering the only destination within the next fifty miles is–

Oh, gods.

I stop my steps, my face going pale, "Where are you taking me?" my voice stops him in his tracks as well.

He finally turns to fully face me right before the forest entrance, the city's nightlife already completely faded in the distance, as his next words threaten my knees to collapse, "To the Queen".