Chapter 3: The king that came from the veil

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Present day

Ayla's heart thrummed in her chest, erratic heartbeats so loud they almost drowned out the cries around her. The cold night air bit at her skin as she ran, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Ayla searched for her family, her mother and father who had been before her before they were cut of by the hurtling cloud of smoke - her wide eyes dashed frantically over the scene before her.

Large figures of smoke and steel towered from dark horse like creatures that moved with terrifying grace - the creatures eyes glasslike and their legs obscured within a haze of shadow as they moved. Long fingers grabbed at villagers, dragging a few women and children by their arm. She saw a few men she knew that worked the local tavern feebly fending off attackers, the dark metal glinting in the moon light as it clashed against scythes and battered blades. She watched as a dark silver sword cut a large gash through one of the boy's chest - a boy who has just celebrated his coming of age but who moon cycles ago.

She continued onwards, her own feet managing to trip her as she stumbled towards the forest that loomed ahead, dark and foreboding, but it was her only chance. She didn't dare look back—she couldn't. The echo of footfalls behind her was too close, too heavy, a constant reminder of the danger she was trying to escape.

Branches scraped at her arms, snagging her nightdress as she pushed through the thick underbrush. Her heart pounded in her chest, louder than the wind howling through the trees. She had no idea where she was going, only that she had to keep moving, to put as much distance between herself and the Rider.

Her legs burned with the effort, her muscles screaming for her to stop, but fear won the battle. She stumbled, nearly falling, but caught herself on a low-hanging branch. For a moment, she slowed, listening to the sounds of the forest—of the distant voices and the cracking of wood.

Then she felt a large hand encompass the back of her head, pulling it back to meet burning embers.

Panic surged through her, a wildfire that consumed every rational thought. She reached for her knife, tucked into her boot, her arm simultaneously flying back to hit him somewhere anywhere. He pressed her against his chest, his hand circling to the front and down her side, the cold metal grating against her skin. Her heart lurched. She wrapped her hand around the wooden handle, the blade catching the light of moon, she brought it down aiming for his stomach, but he grabbed her hand effortlessly throwing the knife to the ground.

Spinning her around he slammed her so her back hit a tree with a heavy thud. The hilt of his sword pressed firmly under of her jaw, he tilted his head his cold eyes calculating. A faint smirk played on his full lips, a shadow of a scar lay just above them. Ayla met his gaze unflinching, watching the embers swirl in his eyes, the movement was almost hypnotic and she had to remind herself of the danger.

"You have magic inside you" he murmured. Ayla could feel his eyes scan her face, hovering over her eyes briefly before traveling down her body, his other hand tucking a small strand of hair behind her pink frosted ears. "I can feel it." He whispered so quietly Ayla had to strain to hear.

Ayla swallowed.

She watched that sheer gold thread swirl around them, twinkling faintly. Starting around her left wrist and wrapping around their centre pulling them ever closer. Ayla wondered if he could feel the tug of the thread the way she was so very aware of the glimmering string of lights that dance around them in loops.

The wind blew speckles of ice against her causing her a shiver to ripple through her, even as bead of sweat dotted her skin. Despite her efforts to contain it, the fae caught the movement, a small chuckle escaped from his mouth. Ayla felt the rough leather slowly removed from her ear to gently stroke back and forth along her shoulder in mocking.

Court Of Tethers and Ruin *A dark fae fantasy- romance*Where stories live. Discover now