The Siege of Shadows: Book one

The Cost of Defiance (33)*

The city was a labyrinth of tight alleys and twisting streets, its pristine perfection a stark contrast to the chaos of my flight. My breath came in sharp bursts as I darted between shadows, my heart pounding with a rhythm that screamed one word over and over: run.

I had made it out of the castle, slipping past the guards and into the gardens. The cold night air had been like a slap to my senses, urging me forward. From the gardens, I'd scaled the outer wall, my fingers scraped raw on the jagged stones.

Now I was free—or so I thought.

The bell had rung hours ago, its low, resonant toll chasing me through the twisting streets of the city below. The sound had been enough to freeze the blood in my veins. It was an alarm, a declaration that a prisoner—a human, or worse, a mutt—had escaped the Seelie King's fortress.

I pressed myself into the shadows of a narrow alley, my back against the cold stone wall. The voices of the guards were distant now, but I knew better than to relax. They were hunting me, and they wouldn't stop until I was caught.

The city was alive with a faint, eerie glow, its streets lit by silver lanterns that cast long, eerie shadows. Fae walked with their usual grace, their ethereal beauty untouched by the chaos around them. But I could see the tension in their movements, the way they glanced toward the soldiers with apprehension.

No one would help me here.

I darted out of the alley, my bare feet silent on the cobblestones. My lungs burned, and my muscles ached, but I pushed forward, weaving through the maze of streets. Every now and then, I'd hear the echo of boots on stone, or a sharp, commanding voice, and I'd duck into another alley or press myself into the shadows.

I didn't know how long I ran. Time blurred into a haze of fear and desperation. The city's perfect symmetry worked against me, its orderly design making it impossible to tell one street from the next.

And then, a voice rang out behind me, sharp and clear:

"There! She's here!"

Panic surged through me, and I bolted.

The sound of pursuit was deafening—shouts, the clatter of boots, the faint hum of magic as the soldiers closed in. My heart thundered in my chest as I turned corner after corner, my mind racing for a way out.

But the streets were a trap, and the soldiers were herding me like prey.

I stumbled into a courtyard, my chest heaving as I skidded to a stop. The space was eerily quiet, the only sound my ragged breaths echoing off the stone walls.

And then I saw him.

Kael stood in the center of the courtyard, his massive frame shrouded in shadow. His black helmet gleamed faintly in the moonlight, the long curling ram horns adding to his terrifying silhouette. His dark armor seemed to drink in the light, casting him as a specter of dread.

"Enough," he said, his voice low and resonant.

I backed away, my breath hitching as his shadowed gaze fixed on me.

"Stay back," I warned, though my voice trembled.

Kael didn't move at first, his silence more unsettling than any threat. Then, slowly, he advanced, each step deliberate and unhurried.

"You've run far enough," he said.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I won't go back."

"You don't have a choice," Kael replied, his tone devoid of malice but heavy with inevitability.

Desperation clawed at me, and I lunged forward, swinging wildly at him. He caught my wrist effortlessly, his grip like iron. I struggled, kicking and twisting, but he held me still, his strength overwhelming.