I don’t need to see it. I can hear everything. The quick, panicked gasps from Arnold, the sloppy sound of tearing flesh followed by sharp cracks, the unmistakable sound of bone snapping in Theron’s paws. Blood splattering onto the forest floor, meeting the dampness of the earth.
Arnold’s cries fade, replaced by choked, wet gurgling as I imagine Theron tightens his grip on Arnold’s throat. It’s as though the forest has been stunned into silence, waiting for the carnage to be over. The only sound that remains is the heavy thud of what’s left of Arnold hitting the ground, piece by piece, and Theron’s deep, even breaths.
Goose bumps prick my skin. I’ve seen bloodshed before, during my military trainings. I’ve watched men be beaten down, watched them break, but this... this is different. This isn’t brutality for brutality’s sake. It’s something that feels more like nature taking its course than a man’s vengeance.
The smell of iron, blood, reaches my nose. My stomach churns, but I force myself to breathe. Just breathe.
Slowly, I remove the hand that shields my vision, blinking against the harsh reality before me. Gregor, his face pale. He’s panicking. Trying to flee, floundering, but he’s not fast enough. He won’t get far.
Before he even makes it two steps, the women surround him. Their graceful movements are now predatory, the light in their eyes changing from ethereal beauty to something much more dangerous.
“You are not welcome here,” one of them says, her voice echoing in layers as if a thousand voices are speaking inside myhead. The air around her hums with power, the ground beneath her pulses in response.
Gregor staggers back, his eyes wide with terror, shaking his head as if he could somehow will himself to wake from this nightmare.
“You and your kind have brought poison to these lands,” she continues. “There will be no mercy.”
Theron stands over Arnold’s lifeless remains, his burning eyes on Gregor, who is shivering uncontrollably.
“Please...” Gregor stammers. “I didn’t mean to... I-I was just following orders! Arnold— He made me come along! I didn’t know!”
Theron’s eyes narrow, the glow of his crystals deepening as he takes a step closer. “You are both guilty of harming Noël. There is no excuse.” His voice is low. Blood drips to the ground as his claws extend, preparing to finish what he started.
“No, wait!” I scream, rushing forward before I can think. “Please, Theron! Stop!”
Theron freezes mid-step, his head snapping in my direction. The rage in his eyes vanishes.
I turn to Gregor as I step between him and Theron. My body quivers but I force myself to stand firm.
“Gregor,” I say, looking straight into his eyes, “why were you with Arnold? Why were you in that carriage?” I need to understand.
I need to know if he’s guilty or just got caught up in Arnold’s madness.
Theron ripped through Arnold with such ferocity, the smell of his blood still hangs in the air. Even now, I can almost feel it clinging to my skin, as if it’s seeped into me somehow.
I don’t feel sorry for Arnold. Not after everything he did, not after what he had planned for me, but that doesn’t mean his death hasn’t left a mark.
If Gregor is not guilty, I cannot let him face the same fate as Arnold.Answer me, Gregor.
Gregor’s eyes dart between Theron and me, sweat dripping down his forehead.
“I didn’t know!” he pleads. “I swear, I didn’t know you were in the carriage. Arnold told me to meet him, that it was a job, just a job. He didn’t say... he didn’t say it was you. I only found out after we’d already left, and by then, it was too late.” His voice cracks, and he sinks to his knees. “I swear... I’m so, so sorry. Please... please, you have to believe me.”
I see the fear in his eyes, the regret, and I feel pity for him. He’s scared and confused, just like I was. Is it so unlikely that he was dragged into this by Arnold’s manipulation? My mind is torn. He doesn’t deserve to die like this, not when Arnold was the true monster.
I open my mouth to speak, but before I can make a move, the ethereal, ghostly women who were surrounding the clearing appear beside me. Their luminous hands grip my arms, holding me back, their touch like a caress.
“Please, Your Majesty,” one of them whispers, her voice like the rustling of leaves in the wind. She stands beside me, her long fingers wrapped around my waist, her glowing eyes pleading. “Do not harm yourself for the sake of this man.”
Your Majesty?I blink, confused, but before I can question it, another woman speaks from beside Theron.
“Leave him to us,” she says, her voice low and full of authority. Her pale, translucent body moves toward Gregor, her dazzling eyes fixed on his face. “We will take care of him. There will be no harm done.”
She turns and offers me a gentle bow.
Theron’s gaze doesn’t leave mine, his muscles still tense, but I see the conflict in his eyes. He wants to protect me. But healso hears my word. Why would he listen to me? Why would my opinion matter so much to him?
Slowly, he steps back, his claws retracting to their normal length.
