Queen of Ash

𝒟𝑒𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓊𝓇𝑒

He'd found her, his king's mate. And now she lay pinned to the ground, his knee in between her shoulder blades. She thrashed beneath him, struggling to get him off. But they both knew who was the strongest one.

As the snow swirled around him, sending a shiver down his spine, Rhoe replayed the king's instructions in his head.

She's a fire wielder, golden hair, blue eyes, and a feisty temper. If this is not enough, there is a uniquely shaped scar on her back. Slice open her shirt if you have to, but do not touch her!

He unsheathed the hunting knife at his waist, the hilt glinting in the pale moonlight. With a quick movement, he sliced open the back of her shirt, the girl beneath him protesting. Indeed there was a scar carved into her back. It was long, snaking its way across her pale back.

There were no stitch marks, meaning she's somehow healed herself using magic. But not many Fae could heal a wound this deep except for a few healers who roamed in Illyria. Most lived under the protection of the king but in return, they had to heal all of his men.

Rhoe reached towards the vicious cicatrix, tracing it with a cold finger. The girl shuddered from under his knees but as he traced his finger higher and higher towards the tips of the wound that ended on her shoulder, the girl rolled over and shoved him off. Flames danced in her eyes as she flipped him off, covering herself up quickly.

"Fae bastard!" she spat, pulling her cloak over her torn shirt.

It was her, this low life fire wielder was his King's mate. And yet as the king's mate, she bore scars that only warriors and soldiers had.

"How dare you?!" she yelled, narrowing her eyes. Rhoe shrugged and sheathed his hunting knife. They needed to move quickly, he wasn't the only Fae male hunting her.

"Quickly we must go, others are hunting you," he said, grabbing her arm.

"What do you mean hunting me?" she, wriggling out of his grip, stepping back.

Rhoe gritted his teeth and said with a cold voice: "Don't act so naive, you know very well who's hunting you." She stopped, pursing her lips and refused to walk with him. The girl didn't answer the warriors' question. Instead, she stared at him dead in the eyes and spat at his feet.

Rhoe reeled back, surprise and disgust lurching through him. The warrior growled, wiping off the spit on his boot.

"Why'd you do that?" he asked, resuming his walk.

"Why'd you pin me down and cut open my shirt, you idiot?!" she responded, heading in the opposite direction. "I'm going back to get the hunters and you can't stop me!" she said, crossing her arms.

"I can't. But he can." Rhoe said as a wolf appeared from behind the trees. He was much smaller than Rhoe's shifting form but still deadly to any human. The girl stepped back, reaching behind only to find that her bow was gone. She whirled around to find Rhoe covering it in ice then shattered it into a million pieces. Her jaw dropped, as he smirked and walked in the other direction leaving the fire wielder behind.

He only had to walk a few feet before the girl came running, finally cooperating. Rhoe only had to snap his fingers before the wolf was frozen and shattered to pieces.

The two walked for a while in silence. The sun was slowly rising up behind the giant trees, but the snow didn't stop. It would be like this until they crossed the border. Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream echoed across the forest, breaking their silence. The young girl froze and turned to Rhoe.

"What was that?" she asked, her lip trembling. Rhoe unsheathed one of his swords, the one with the silver hilt. "I don't know," he replied, wearily. Something was out there. Someone.