LIRIENNE
I run down the stairs into a crowd of people who stare as I hurry past. I would gawk too if I saw a girl running half naked, hair wild, with remnants of the chains swinging down her wrist. But I make sure I keep moving. Ger and his men are searching everywhere in the huge building for me.
Continuing to go deeper and deeper down the floors, I reach a dark corridor, with fewer rooms on both sides. As I take the next turn, I see one of my pursuers coming from the other end. It's the one who gave me bread earlier.
I immediately fly back, finding the nearest door and slipping inside. While behind the door, I silently push it closed, only to then go still as I feel a strong presence behind me.
I turn to face the tall figure of a man whose hair falls down the sides of his head to brush his shoulders, and his bronze skin seems to absorb the scanty light. His eyes are the blackest ones I've ever seen and even the faintest reflection of light they catch makes them look so majestic.
"Wh—" I hear his voice begin to form in the quiet and I quickly hold my palm over his mouth, a finger to my own lips.
His eyes fall from my face to the cuff still clamped around my wrist. While we stay still, we can hear the footsteps move past the room and further, further away.
The moment my hand falls away from his warm lips, I let out a weary sigh.
"Thank—"
Now it's his turn to silence me. He holds a finger to his lips and then turns his eyes sharply at the door behind me. I swallow the rest of my gratitude, trying to calm my nerves as a firm knock sounds at the door.
"I'm not expecting any visitors," he answers the outsider firmly.
For someone with such a strong build, he has a pretty soft, soothing voice that catches me off guard; but I guess it's a fine match for his face after all.
The reply from the other end is impatient. "We're doing a mandatory check. There's a dangerous rogue on the loose. Open up."
The man looks at me and I slowly shake my head with a deep plea in my eyes.
"Then I suggest you continue your search elsewhere. I'm quite safe in here," he answers.
"Open this door, or we break it down!"
I back farther behind the door, feeling my legs shake. I wildly ransack the room with my eyes and then stop at the widely open window. I should make a run for it, but I don't even know what could be on the other side of it.
Thoughts are still flying wildly in my head when the man actually opens the door, and my heart seems to leap into my throat.
Why?! Why would he open the door? Is he handing me over?
My back latches harder to the wall, my body screaming for me to just melt into it and disappear.
He only opens the door wide enough to speak to the person on the other side and his broad shoulders block most of the view inside. The flickering torchlight from the corridor spills in where it can.
"You said there's a rogue?" the stranger asks.
"Aye," the man barks, "A woman. Seen her? Barely dressed, with chains on her."
My stomach is in knots.
"Yes, I saw her," the stranger says and my eyes fly open wide.
This is it. He'll point. He'll drag me out.
"…but I let her go."
I bite my teeth as I try not to go out of breath. Why's he lying on my behalf?
"You let her go," the outsider repeated.
"Minutes ago," he juts his chin vaguely towards the corridor leading west away from the stairs I'd come down. "She ran that way. I couldn't have possibly imagined she was a rogue. But if she's as dangerous as you say, you'd best hurry."
After waiting a few seconds to process the information, the outsider grunts out a frustrated acknowledgement and pounds down the corridor.
Indulging in a deep breath of relief, I drag my back down the wall until I sit, holding my banging head.
I suddenly remind myself that escapades like this are my life. I'm always running from something. It's why I'm a wandering wolf. I must have forgotten who I am in the past three years, and the universe decides to remind me of what I'm cursed with. A permanent home is not a luxury of mine and I should never overuse any chances I get.
The stranger returns his attention to me.
"A rogue in the city," he states in suspicion. I see he's also slapping the label on me.
"I'm not a rogue," I retort, "That's just the lie they're trying to use to snuff me out."
"You don't have a familial scent," he notes like I'm not already aware.
Slowly, his eyes take a travel down my barely covered body and I quickly hang an arm across my shoulder, pretending to scratch my neck.
"And that doesn't make me a rogue. I was imprisoned."
"By who?"
The question, and the answer to it, feels like prodding a fresh wound. I move to the window and look down. We're very close to ground level.
I then answer him, "The bedchamber butcher."
"Who is that?"
I turn, "You're not from around here?" I ask rhetorically with a bit of weary realisation. This is the first time I'm actually observing his entire appearance; he looks southern.
"Everyone here knows of the rabid rapist and murderer," I add and I see a crease form between his dark brows.
"Thank you for helping a mere stranger anyway. I owe you, but I have to get going if I want to remain alive to pay you back." I glance at the door. "I have a feeling they're going to realise I'm here if I decide to stay hiding."
Then I thrust out my left arm, wriggling my chained wrist, "Can you help break it off?"
With that same strange softness he oozes, he comes closer and gently picks my hand. His touch is very gentle, and soft, but my senses are too troubled to feel the calm it would have come with.
As he shifts a hand, he says, "It's going to hurt."
"I'll manage." I can feel the heat radiating from his grip.
He crushes the cuff against my wrist, and I grunt in pain as it breaks off.
"Thank you," I breathe as I flex my hands. "Thank you so much."
He nods at my gratitude.
"I need one last favour from you," I say.
"Which is?"
I move my gaze to the small, beautifully carved object lying in his bed. "Is that a dagger?"
Also looking, he answers, "Yes."
"Can I borrow it?"
"No."
I nod, pursing my lips. "I see…it must be too special to you to part with…erm…one more thing…I don't mean to be a burden, but can I get some clothes? Anything will do."
Retracting his claws, he turns towards a small trunk at the foot of the bed, bending down to open it.
This is the moment I swiftly grab the dagger.
"I'm sorry! Thank you!" I yell as I throw myself out of the window.
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"It was a brilliant attempt," a voice sneers the instant my feet touch the ground.
He steps out from the shadows —Ger—, with bumps of half-healed burns climbing up his neck, and the smell of burnt cloth and hair.
I grind my teeth, backing away as I unsheathe the stolen dagger, which I know, deep down, will not do much except the owner laced it with something.
My insides are succumbing to the fear of being retaken but I just can't give in.
For a moment, Ger vanishes and the next, he's in front of my face. As one of his hands crawls up my back, the other tries to rip the dagger free from my hand.
"I just knew you were special," he grins twistedly in the gloom while slowly piercing my hand with his claws.
I bite down hard at the pain but end up screaming anyway, unfurling my hand. I hear the object clatter on the floor and my cries intensify when he grabs my hair tightly and yanks my head back so hard.
He drags me tight against his chest, hissing, "I had plans for you. You actually made me feel something in my heart, you know?"
What heart?If you have one, and if I actually 'touched' whatever passes for your soul, that would be the greatest defeat for me.
I fight the urge to fight back. I can't overpower him. All my life I've been used to making escapes, not fighting. After all, my strength can only go so far without fully shifting under a full moon.
"HOW DARE YOU RUN FROM ME?!" He roars.
My only option right now is to give in. I'll kill him; I'll definitely kill him. But I can't right now.
"I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I won't run next time," I rasp through the pain in my scalp.
"I don't believe you. You're one tough—"
The rest of his words are seized and his body lurches as a silver blade pierces him in the chest. Ger lets go of me immediately and staggers back, holding the blade as his blood soaks his shirt.
The injured Ger looks up at a particular window before he falls to the floor.
Looking up as well, I see the stranger holding a strange bow. He suddenly jumps down. Ignoring both of us, he merely walks over to where his dagger is, picks it up and then walks away.
Even I don't wait any second longer. I run.