AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Me,” he responds with a maniacal smile. I never did learn the creature’s name. It doesn’t matter to me though. I will kill him, and his name will be forgotten.
“Lord Everan,” Ariella says from behind me. She steps up to my side, smelling of fearful determination. So that is his name.
“You know him?” I ask, slightly stunned.
“This is the man who is after me, Zyranth. Lord Everan Medrai. Though it would seem you know him as well,” Ariella says.
“Indeed,” Lord Everan says. “I am your rightful owner, and, as such, I shall be taking you both back to my estate now. You would be wise not to resist. Things will go much better for you if you simply cooperate. You must be punished for your insolence, of course, both of you, but it’s not too late to soften that punishment through a sign of good faith.” His voice is honeyed venom. One could almost believe he’s really trying to help us, if not for the obvious pleasure on his face whenever he mentions punishment.
Lord Everan stands there as he speaks, looking absolutely assured of his victory. He exudes a sense of superiority and unwavering confidence.
The realization that it is my mortal enemy who’s been after Ariella this whole time sparks a raging fire inside me. I refuse to let him do to Ariella what he did to me. She belongs to me and I will protect her at any cost. That is the last thought I have before rage and desire for vengeance take me over completely. The time to kill has arrived.
I spring into action with blinding speed. Throwing Ariella to the ground beside me, I leap for Lord Everan, planning to rip his throat out and smash his body to bloody pulp. Fire sprouts from Lord Everan’s hand, however, shooting toward me in a torrent of blazing heat.
I twist to my right, dodging the flame and using my momentum to roll to the right and spring up in front of the first of Everan’s minions. He tries to strike me down with a burst of magical energy, but before he can complete the spell, I am on top of him. Razor-like claws fully protracted from my fingers, I grip his neck, crushing his windpipe and slicing the jugular with a claw. It all happens in the blink of an eye.
I turn back toward the other elves just as a series of fireballs and lightning bolts come crashing toward me from ten different directions. I throw myself forward and roll under the attacks, coming up on two feet ready to spring. The various magical attacks fly over my head, exploding violently in the trees behind me.
One of the elves has moved into the center of the clearing and grabbed hold of Ariella. She is doing her best to resist, but he is far too strong for her. I spring forward in a heartbeat, slashing the elf across the chest with my claws then grabbing hold of his tunic and flinging him into the nearest tree with such ferocity that it cracks the trunk. His bones crunch sickeningly as he hits the tree, his body slumping limply to the forest floor. Two down.
“Surround him you fools!” Lord Everan shrieks. The elves obey immediately, closing in on Ariella and me, hands outstretched in preparation for magical attacks. I don’t give them the chance. All thought is gone from my mind. I am a predator and nothing else.
I lose myself in my bloodlust, leaping forward to attack. The elves are much more wary now. They move lightly on their feet, maintaining their shape so that I cannot attack one of them without turning my back to another. As I leap for the nearest elf, he dives away, casting fire toward me. At the same time, three elves on the other side of the circle send fire at me.
I land and squat, protecting my face and letting the hard scales of my back take the brunt of their attacks. The fire is unable to burn through my scales and as soon as their streams cease, I leap up, fire swirling around me. The elves seem scared now. My eyes burn with a golden hatred so intense it threatens to overwhelm me. I head straight for Lord Everan.
The first elf to come between us falls to my claws. I throw the second one effortlessly aside to crash into the forest floor with a terrible crunch. The other elves come quickly to stand between Everan and me, however. I try to take them on one at a time, but they work together, making it impossible to reach Lord Everan without killing them. All the while Lord Everan lobs magical attacks at me laughing maniacally.
“Look at the beast!” Everan yells. “The ferocity of it! This creature will be my greatest tool! The very image of death it is! But I will defeat you, Zyranth. Rest assured, I defeated you once and I will do it again!” Lord Everan laughs again, lobbing balls of pure energy at me.
My rage burns ever hotter. I am death itself. I will rip the elves to shreds. I will feast on their flesh. I will destroy them utterly.
With a deep growl, I leap forward once again, straight into a ball of blazing hot fire.
I am death.
14
ARIELLA
Iam surrounded by carnage.
Blood flies through the air in arcs that would almost be beautiful if the sight weren’t so gruesome. Dark elves that have since been reduced to piles of shredded organs paint the ground, and the smell of the area has gone from the now familiar and comforting scent of rain and soil to distinctly meaty. Some of the charred bodies – courtesy of Lord Everan’s flames – even smell like cooked steak, a realization that only makes me want to gag.
I almost consider myself lucky now that I have something else to focus on outside of the spectacle of gore around me.
Almost.
“Zyranth!” I scream, desperation ripping through my already sore throat. “Watch out!”
I watch in horror as Zyranth’s body gets hit in the chest by a ball of energy and sends him sprawling back several paces. He lands on his back but manages to twist around to dodge the next blow and run back into the fray, ripping apart anything that stands in front of him. In his place, the ground is scarred from the magic that Lord Everan hurled at him, and I feel sick to my stomach thinking about how that could’ve been the end.
I’m desperate to help him, even though I know I’d only be a hindrance to his efforts. Watching him fight alone puts a pit in my stomach that won’t let up, though.
“I thought I got you that time, beast,” Lord Everan taunts. His laugh is despicable, grating against the ear and dreadfully cruel. “I’m almost having fun!”
I hear Zyranth grunt, but he doesn’t respond. Around us, the dark elf soldiers groan and moan in pain. Many of them have died by both Zyranth and Lord Everan’s hand, but there are a few who lay there bleeding out or crushed enough that they can’t move. They lay there breathing until they run out of time.
