Heir of Night

𝔓𝔯𝔬𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔲𝔢 III

𝓥𝓲𝓴𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂𝓪

Heir of Night
All Rights Reserved
© 2018 L. C. Rose

~*~

In the distance, I hear a finely tuned bird call but quickly convince myself it wasn't real. I inwardly reason it's just the howling of the wind through hollowed trees. Nothing more.

I force a false serenity over myself when silence envelopes me again before skulking further into the dense woodlands. Taking a breath, I summon all the courage I can into my body.

I peek at the web of cuts on my legs and feet but settle into a sprint nonetheless. The air seems to fill with an unknown presence but I don't falter. I keep my steps nimble and weightless, as before, over the wet leaves and muddy snow. Staring at the trees that surround me, they all start to look the same.

Once, it had been second nature to savor the contrast of old grass against the pureness and frigidness of snow; or the loveliness of snowflakes dancing about in a winter waltz over the crumbling trees. Once, I had dreamed and breathed in colors and light and shapes. Sometimes, I would even indulge in envisioning a day when my brother would marry and take throne and then, it would just be me and Eve with enough time to revel in those colors and light without the heaviness of a crown over us.

But it wasn't likely to happen anytime soon - or ever. Perhaps now more than before, it would just remain as a bittersweet daydream left behind in childhood.

The howling wind chases away those thoughts and I notice it calls me further with its soft signing. The snow falls lazily now, in fragile flurries that gather along every nook and bump of the trees and grounded brush.

Mesmerizing- lethal, gentle beauty of winter.

I zigzag through some bushes, trying to mask my scent with that of the falling frost. Quiet as the breeze hissing though the dead leaves, I stop as my senses detect a presence close by. I look to all my sides and find nothing.

I stand at the foot of a massive oak and wonder how much farther it will take me to get to the border. I gaze from one place to another again as I allow the quietness to encircle me, reminding myself not to linger in the small reprieve.

Beads of sweat form on my forehead. I flip the run-away curls of my night-shade hair out of my face, raising my eyes to the path in front of me.

And I see him.

No amount of stillness can help me now. My lip quivers at the sight and I'm left wondering: Would someone come for me if I scream? Could I outrun him if I tried?

We stare at each other. I wait for him to whip out the sword at his hip he's so desperately trying to conceal; but he doesn't so much as motion towards it. He's crouched behind an aged and striking tree.

He doesn't make a sound except to let out a single quiet laugh, amused at our situation. The sound makes my chest so tight it starts to ache. He rises to his full height and I realize that standing before me is the most beautiful male I have ever seen. I'm transfixed by his chiseled features and I can't bring myself to look away. His presence alone demands the entirety of my attention.

After the briefest of moments, his smoldering eyes roam my body. His gaze is hungry yet cautious. I can tell he's assessing if I am a threat.

My eyes then mimic his and I begin scrutinizing every inch of him. With nothing short of embarrassment, I admit to myself, that everything about this male radiates sensual elegance. The cloak shrouds half his face but I can still make out his tan skin and pale blue eyes that even in the dimness of nightfall, gleam with enjoyment as he beholds me.