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One of them, perhaps the stupidest of them all, picks up his bow and arrow and shakily points it at me.
The first shot misses and my smile widens.
The second shot ricochets off my scales and I feel nothing.
He drops the weapon and begins to run.
“Wait for me,” he screams. His smarter friends are already a distance away.
None of them respond.
I do not notice the human woman staying on the ground, hyper-focused on how I am but yards away now.
I’m going to enjoy this,I think to myself.I’m going to savor this.
It takes only a little stumble for me to catch up with a leap, planting the full force of my body on the back of this piece of scum. I hear his armor bend and his ribs crack under my foot. He screams.
I leave him there, face in the dust, confident he will not move. I’ll circle back for him and the woman later because I know who I want to kill first.
I smell salt in the air and recognize it as tears from the four elves in front of me that I’m gaining distance on.
My eyes stay locked on the one who laughed, and I wonder if at that moment he feels a fraction of the joy I feel at the thought of picking my teeth with his bones.
5
ARIELLA
I’m running out of breath.
I try not to think about the ache in my muscles and chest, but it’s hard. I haven’t had this much freedom of movement in ages - since I was taken from my family - and it shows in the soreness in my calves and the heaving breaths I have to take.
Rocks and sticks dig into the soles of my feet, and I know that if I make it out of this I’m going to have to figure out a way to stop whatever infection will fester from the cuts I probably have. Regardless, I choose to focus on that stinging pain over the exhaustion creeping into my body.
I don’t really have an option otherwise.
I was successful in smashing through the metal links holding me together, even if the cuffs remain around my ankles, and I’ve been steadily running since, but it hasn’t been enough to put any sort of meaningful distance between me and my captors.
Their calls and jeers get louder with each passing moment and I know soon enough they’ll catch up to me.
“I’m not going back there,” I say with what little confidence I have. “Either I get away, or I die fighting back.”
I bend down and pick up a sturdy branch and grip it in one hand. It won’t do much against swords and arrows but maybe I can get a few good hits in.
My breaths are getting shallower and the jeers are getting loud enough that I can hear what they’re saying to me.
“You won’t be able to run for long!”
“A whore like you doesn’t deserve freedom!”
My chest twinges. I don’t want this. I don’t want to be here.
“You don’t deserve freedom, you bitch!”
“Come back and maybe we won’t beat you within an inch of your life!”
A rock flies past me and hits the ground nearby. They’re trying to slow me down.
“Get back here!”
