Agony erupted as one of the vampires pulled my arm back further from its place at an odd angle, the sickening snap echoing through the trees. Another scream tore through me, raw and broken, just as another hit landed across my other cheek.
Magnus leaned in, his breath brushing against my skin. “You sound just like Selene before she died,” he sneered, his hand wrapping around my throat and tightening.
“Now your dragon will die, and the king will have you.”
I tried to focus, but my vision swam—my arm burned, my neck and face ached, and my head felt like it was being crushed from the inside.
His grip tightened, cutting off what little air I had left, warm blood slipping down my skin in gradual, mocking trails. Each breath was a struggle—sharp, shallow, and slipping further out of reach.
“Raven, you need to duck. Now.”Xarothar's voice was urgent, sharp with something I didn’t recognise. I blinked through the haze, watching Magnus smile as he saw me slipping away.
“What?”
“Get down!”
Summoning every ounce of strength left in me, I wrenched myself forward with a loud cry, and the satisfying crack of Magnus’s nose was heard. His grip loosened from my throat, and I collapsed to the ground, my arms screaming in agony, but at least the binds were gone.
Before I could fully comprehend what was happening, a blur of motion crossed my vision, followed by a sickening sound of steel tearing through flesh. The air thickened with the metallic scent of blood.
Then, the vampires’ heads hit the ground, rolling to a stop at my feet.
“They’re dead, Raven.”
I forced my eyelids open, my breathing ragged.
“How?” I rasped, my vision was blurred again, but before the darkness swallowed me whole, I caught a glimpse of two deep blue eyes.
“Your Hunter.”Then everything went black.
Chapter 6
RAVENA
I blinked, my vision swimming as I tried to focus. Strangely, there was no pain—no throbbing headache, no searing pain in my arm. It wasn’t broken anymore. Confusion settled in as I took in my surroundings. The walls around me were damp and shadowed, streaked with dirty water that dripped down in slow, steady rivulets. Cracks snaked through the stone, jagged and deep, as if the place had been abandoned for years.
Cold iron bars enclosed me, their rusted edges biting into the dim light overhead. The flickering glow cast eerie, shifting shadows across the floor, making the room feel even smaller. I could hear the wind howling beyond the walls, a low hollow sound, and the rhythmic drip…drip…drip of water meeting stone.
I wasn’t anywhere I recognised, and that terrified me. Don’t even get me started on the smell.
I pushed myself upright, the cold metal beneath me sending a chill through my body. My fingers pressed against the smooth yet unforgiving surface of the table I had been lying on, my pulse quickening as my surroundings became clearer.
Then, I saw her.
A woman was chained to the floor in the corner of the room, her frail form barely covered by a thin, tattered white nightdress. Well, it used to be white. Her deep brown hair cascaded down her back in tangled waves, marred by dirt anddried blood. Cuts and bruises littered her pale skin, a haunting testament to the torment she had endured. Then I saw him
Tall and imposing, he stood in the centre of the room, clad in a deep blood-red suit that seemed to drink in the dim light. His jet-black hair was slicked back, and his sharp features were chiselled with effortless cruelty. But his eyes, endless pits of inky blackness, sent a cold dread curling down my spine.
King Lucian Draeven.
He gripped the woman by her hair, yanking her upright with a sickening ease. A heavy chain coiled around her ankle, the metal clanking against the stone floor as she whimpered. His look showed no kindness or hesitation in how he held her —a predator toying with his prey.
“Now, Selene, you will give me what I want.”
I gasped, my heart clenching at the name. My mother. How was I witnessing this nightmare? The woman before me was a shadow of the vibrant, fierce, kind mother I had known. She looked so broken, so different from the radiant figure who had once fought to keep me safe. Even during our flight from danger, she had radiated beauty and happiness, a beacon of strength. Nobody should have to see the person they love most in this world suffer like this.
But here, in this dark, damp dungeon, she was a prisoner, subjected to King Draevens' cruelty. This was where he had kept her for months, torturing her for information about Velmore, and he continued his experiments long after the Ashen war. Before I had come along.
Despite her frailty, she still fought back. She spat defiantly in his face; her spirit unyielding even in the face of brutal torment. I felt a swell of admiration for her strength because I knew what she went through, but now I was seeing it with my very own eyes. No matter how much he tried to break her, she remained unbowed, a fierce flame flickering in the dark.
