Fourth Wing meets The Hunger Games crossed with X-Men in this slow burn, found family romantasy from breakthrough Booktok sensations Bree Grenwich and Parker Lennox, as a woman with unique powers navigates a city of prejudice and confronts her feelings for a mysterious general.
He was striking in a cold-blooded kind of way, like his beauty was tinged with poison. Unassuming, alluring even.
I brought my eyes up to meet his.
"Fia Riftborne?" The words dripped from his lips like blood from a dagger.
20 years after a rebellion branded her an outcast, Fia Riftborne navigates a city rife with prejudice so deep, it's often deadly. But she harbors a secret, one that would paint an even larger target on her back. A hidden power within her is growing, threatening to destroy everything she's built for herself.
Enter the elusive Sidhe General, Laryk Ashford, who is building a unit of powerful wielders within the Guard to face a growing threat. Wraiths of darkness devour the Western border, leaving a trail of death and destruction in their wake.
When Fia's power erupts, and two daughters of Nobility are seemingly dead, General Ashford offers her a chilling choice: join the Sidhe Guard or face execution.
Because Fia might be the only hope for the Isle's survival.
Torn between surrendering to the chaos or becoming a weapon for those who took everything from her, Fia must confront her growing feelings for the General and face a dark truth that could shatter everything she's ever known.
Riftborne was written for readers that love a well-developed enemies-to-lovers arc and strong female friendships. The magic system is heavily inspired by X-men— if it took place in the city of Silverymoon from the Forgotten Realms. Laryk Ashford is the Charles Xavior to Fia’s Dark Phoenix.
Release date:
September 2, 2024
Publisher:
Kensington Books
Print pages:
476
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The race of Elven-like beings that live on the Isle of Sídhe and Riftdremar.
Sídhe (SHEE)
The Isle of Sídhe is a Kingdom in which all Aossí now reside. It is where the majority of the story takes place.
Riftdremar (Rift-dra-mahr)
An Island to the east of the Isle of Sídhe. Riftdremar was destroyed after an uprising against Sídhe’s colonial effort to expand their influence on Riftdremar’s culture, economy, and resources.
Riftdremar Rebellion
An uprising against the Isle of Sídhe that spiraled into a full-blown rebellion, resulting in a war between the two nations. The war ended 20 years prior to the events in this story. Some refugees were allowed citizenship to Sídhe after the events of the conflict. Those who are from Riftdremar are called the Riftborne.
Riftborne (Rift-bohrn)
Children who were saved from the destruction of their homeland, Riftdremar, and brought to the Isle of Sídhe. Before they were granted citizenship, these refugees were branded with a symbol of unity on their left wrist and hand. Most were raised in group homes throughout the Isle and were expected to assimilate into Sídhe culture and society.
Essence (Ess-ense)
The magic that runs throughout the realm, empowering both the land itself and the Aossí.
Focus (Foh-kus)
Each Aossí is blessed with an individual gift, whether it be mundane or extraordinary, and this is referred to as a Focus. It is how essence manifests itself in each individual.
Esprithe (Esp-rith)
The pantheon of deities who are worshiped by those on the Isle of Sídhe.
Sibyl (Sib-uhl)
The Esprithe of Foresight
Conleth (Kohn-luth)
The Esprithe of Wisdom
Niamh (Neev)
The Esprithe of Dreams
Ainthe (Ah-N-yuh)
The Esprithe of Memories
Eibhlín (Eve-lin)
The Esprithe of Justice
Fírinne (Fehr-EN-yeh)
The Esprithe of Truth
Luminaria (Loom-ihn-aria)
The Capital of the Isle of Sídhe
Emeraal (Em-er-ahl)
Stormshire (Stohrm-sheer)
Fia (Fee-ah)
Laryk (Lahr-eck)
Maladea (Mah-LAY-dia)
Osta (Ah-sta)
Raine (Rayne)
Baelor (Bae-lore)
Briar (Bryer)
Draven (Dray-ven)
Nazul (Nah-zuhl)
I hesitated on the precipice of safety, skin ablaze with the urge to retrace my steps back to Luminaria. My insides roared for me to run, to hide—instincts I had spent my entire life cultivating. Humid night air clung to me like a second skin, heavy with the scent of earth and something faintly floral.
A candlelit trail led to the Grove, a valley cradled between rolling hills and the gnarled embrace of the forest. Smoke billowed through the treetops, and golden fire erupted from pits throughout the expanse below. A mixture of nerves and curiosity flooded my veins as I peered into its glittering depths.
One could almost taste the pungent mix of liquor, sweat, and hormones pulsing in the air. Offset only by the peculiar whines and wanes of Sídhe music. Haunting melodies danced up my spine, tempting me to free myself... to lose myself. Just a single dance couldn’t be so bad—
Esprithe sake, Fia. It's enchanted.
I shifted my weight, readjusting my grip on the rough wooden crate.
Whatever sanity I still possessed was holding on by a thread after spending the entire day brewing tonics for the Sídhe Nobility and their ridiculous party.
If they hadn’t placed the orders so damn late, none of this would be happening. I wouldn’t be here. But the Nobility cared little for the day-to-day of common folk. They were far too preoccupied.
My attention shot to the sky as a light weaver cast shimmering rays into the clouds, tearing through the mist like a river in the heavens.
In the world below, a kaleidoscope of satin gowns swirled as Aossí danced in unison.
Beauty could be deceptive, and it often was. Vipers, after all, distract with shimmering scales before going in for the kill. The Sídhe Elite were much the same, twice as lethal as they were mesmerizing.
Only the decline of a hill separated us. Another minute of walking, and I’d be in their midst.
The clinking of glasses sliced through the air like a beckoning, or warning. I couldn’t be sure. Effects from the music lingered, playing tricks in my mind.
Unfortunately, the whims of these people and their extravagant soirees would provide much better pay than any normal day at the Apothecary, so refusing the business wasn’t an option.
Besides, how could the elite possibly reach their desired levels of debauchery without a few euphoria-inducing party favors?
The foolish bravery I'd somehow mustered back at the shop had completely vanished. This was supposed to be Eron's delivery, not mine. He'd been running them all day, after all. I only volunteered because his wife went into labor. A stupid move. I knew it then, but now, standing here, it felt like a deadly mistake.
My gaze stretched across the vast expanse. It mirrored the hollow dread blooming in my chest.
I was a Riftborne, one of many transplanted to Sídhe following the Riftdremar Rebellion and branded with a symbol for unity. Because nothing screams unification quite like a mark to identify you from the masses. I peeked down at my left hand, where the twin serpents of Sídhe coiled around the antlers of Riftdremar.
At least I’d worn gloves.
Most of the Riftborne were too young to remember the Rebellion that ended twenty years ago, but everyone in Sídhe knew someone who died in the war. And many of them wanted us to repay that price with our lives.
It seemed we’d suffer the aftermath of our parents’ choices for millennia.
A splitting force surged through my head, forcing my eyes to slam shut. The curse that lived inside me used to be nothing more than a faint presence lingering in the depths of my mind. Now, it threatened to explode at any moment, lying in wait just below the surface, desperate for the opportunity to unleash itself.
And once it escaped…
I didn’t allow the thought to finish as I steadied myself, digging my heels into the damp earth below.
I hadn't told a soul how bad it had gotten. Not even Osta, my closest friend. Saying it out loud to someone might make it real.
Despite the violent beating of my heart, I took another shaky step forward into the thick air, heavy with a mix of perfume and woodsmoke.
Clinging to the crate and trying to make my body as small as possible, I melted into the shadows of the tree line and made my way along the dirt path.
I hoped the attendees had been partaking in the elixirs long enough for the desired effects to take hold. It would be much easier to navigate a space full of intoxicated minds, where thoughts swam, and steps faltered.
Craning my head over the moving mass of bodies, I scanned the area, searching for Ma’s station.
Ah, there it is.
Keeping my head low, I found my way to the opposite side of the Grove where Ma's potions were displayed on a table lined with twinkling candles and blooms from across the realm. Annoyance tugged at me. Ma's affinity for healing was revolutionary, yet this would be her legacy. Providing libido-boosting cocktails to the Sídhe Guard and their irreverent groupies.
My shoulders burned to drop the crate. It nearly tumbled out of my grasp as I edged it onto the table, vials clinking against each other at the subtle jolt. My arms lifted in an involuntary stretch, only to find they felt more like liquid than muscle and bone.
I hunted for anyone who might be manning this station, but it seemed even the organizers had joined in on the evening’s revelry.
I had never stepped foot near one of these parties but knew what to expect. Ma loved to gossip about them during our more boring hours at the Apothecary. Tonight, all classes would be frothing at the mouth as their military idols were paraded through the crowd. They'd indulge in the finest culinary delights, lose themselves in aromatic bitters, spiked tonics, and the elusive Bloodthorne wine, only to finally stagger home, leaving chaos in their inebriated wake. Just another mess for someone else to clean up.
The most intriguing part of this particular soiree was the attendance of the General–well, assuming he’d show up.
The General seldom graced Luminaria with his presence, preferring the proximity of the Western border. I began unloading the vials, snapping back and forth from crate to table. If quick enough, I could make my escape before being spotted by any curious drunkard.
Luck, however, was not on my side.
It never was.
With only three damn bottles placed, a familiar squeal echoed through the air behind me. I took a calming breath before turning around and meeting the bright aquamarine eyes of Osta, who looked giddy enough to explode. She practically leaped in my direction.
Deep blue silk cascaded in shimmering pleats down her frame, like the petals of a flower in bloom. The entire hemline looked like it had been dipped in stardust, silver threads dancing in delicate patterns along the edges. She had been working on it for weeks.
My eyes instinctively shot to her left hand, which was covered by the silver fabric of a glove. A sigh of relief slipped out. She hadn’t fully lost her mind, it seemed.
Osta’s bronzed hair laid in perfect ringlets down her back. Her skin glowed a golden shimmer. Her radiance was akin to sunlight, even as she stepped into the shadow I was currently occupying. Immediately, I felt even more out of place.
If Osta was the personification of life, I was the living embodiment of death. Cheekbones too high, chin too sharp, and forehead stretching a tad too long—jarring was an appropriate descriptor already. Add in the white curls, unnaturally pale skin, and perpetually shrouded eyes, and we’re verging on full-blown ghoul.
Looking down at my herb-stained blouse and wrinkled trousers, heat rushed over me. My body wanted to crumple into a ball. I needed to find a way out of here. Now.
“Fiiiiiaa!” Osta sang as she threw her arms around me, the sweet scent of wine wafting off her.
“I can’t believe you’re actually here!” She stepped back, eyeing my disgruntled state. “Though I had a different vision… Want to run to the shop? It’s not far, and I have so many pieces that would look divine on you!” Her eyes sparkled. She was clearly already styling me in her mind.
I fiddled with my hair, attempting to push it back. “Thank you for not so subtly pointing out how terrible I look… but I have no intention of hanging around. Eron needed me to deliver this crate and—”
“You’re already here now, so stay! Just for an hour!” she grabbed my stained hands and looked up at me, eyes pleading. Osta always knew when to employ the dramatics. A pang of guilt shot through my chest.
It was then that trumpets tore through the Grove, announcing the arrival of the royal court—a small blessing, saving me from denying her yet again. I often disappointed her with my fear of crowds… especially when they consisted of this type of company. The kind that would gleam with amusement at the prospect of my death once they saw what I was. Even worse if they figured out what I was hiding, what threatened to bubble up and boil out of me.
I reached up and wiped the sweat from my brow. Heat radiated from the touch.
The music quickened and spilled through the Grove. Curiosity peaked in the corners of my mind, and I allowed it to get the best of me. I turned, hesitantly moving towards the commotion. A sea of Aossí had parted, giving the procession a clear path to the raised dais near the center of the Grove.
Osta bounced at my side, clapping her hands and standing on the tips of her toes, trying to get a better look at the King and Queen, who were surrounded by at least twenty members of the Guard. Dressed in matching drapes of sparkling emerald, they moved with a commanding grace. When they finally reached the thrones atop the dais, they turned and waved, hand in hand before taking their seats.
Attendees stumbled as they pushed past me, and my attention followed the rush of bodies. A figure emerged on the southern platform.
It must have been him–the evening’s honored Guest.
General Laryk Ashford.
Both men and women practically threw themselves at him, singing his praise and swooning in the delight of his presence.
Despite the fatigue, my eyes managed to roll just fine.
It was nothing personal against the General. I hated the entirety of the Guard just as much as they hated me. The major difference was that they held power and influence.
One wrong move on my end, and I’d disappear. Or die in some freak encounter that would no doubt be ruled a tragic accident. Riftborne presence in Sídhe wasn't tolerated, it was merely endured. We were like a sickness to them, though their disdain was always hidden beneath a veneer of civility. No one was ever held accountable for their actions. People simply looked the other way.
I gritted my teeth and refocused on the celebration, ignoring the pit growing in my stomach.
As the General stepped onto the dais and turned, an electric current rushed through the Grove. Every single eye was on him. And to my unfortunate surprise, I could now see why.
Flowing copper hair fell in waves over his shoulders, like shimmering curtains over his porcelain skin. Even from my vantage point, his sharp features were prominent. All the way down to the scar that marked his right eye and cheek.
He was taller than most Aossí, and his lean frame couldn’t be ignored, even behind the layers of his Guard uniform.
“Wow.” Osta’s painted pink mouth parted in awe.
I don’t know how I expected our most celebrated General to look, but it certainly wasn’t like this.
As much as I wanted to feign indifference, there was no denying how breathtaking the man was. If you were into pompous jerks with inferiority complexes, of course.
Anyone who joined The Guard these days was doing so in the hopes of climbing to an elite position. On the Isle of Sídhe, ascending to a high rank in the Guard granted instant entry to the exclusive circle of the Noble class and practically guaranteed a family's legacy for generations to come. They were all one in the same at that point–the Elite, whether they were born or bred. Nobility or Guard. Even better if they were both.
Outside of status, the Guard didn’t seem to serve any real purpose.
It had been years since Sídhe faced a foreign threat, and you certainly weren’t going to find any resistance from within the kingdom. War was a far thought, a solved problem of the past, if our educators were to be believed. It did make one wonder why we needed a military this massive and all-encompassing.
The General smiled down at his adoring fans and I wondered if anyone would be lucky enough to win his attention. Maybe a few of them would have the pleasure of his company tonight.
The party already hummed with sensual tension—it hung thick and oppressive in the air like a perfume you couldn’t escape.
The General turned, facing the crowd of hundreds, an obnoxiously charming smile sprawled across his face. His gaze sauntered across the space until his eyes met mine, and he paused. The air seemed to go silent around me.
There was something intense and unwavering in his expression, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. It felt like he could see right through me. I was going to burn up under the scrutiny—I needed to look away. But I was frozen solid; I couldn’t even blink.
Lucky for me, after a few seconds, his eyes moved on, and the raging crowd came crashing back in. People were losing their absolute fucking minds over this man.
Perhaps I was starting to understand the hype.
My chest lurched, and I sucked in a gasp of summer air.
“Should we try to get closer?” Osta sang. It seemed even on the tips of her toes, the view was dismal. “I want to give the Queen a chance to see my design!”
“I’m not sure that’s such a great idea. In my current state of attire… they’d probably take it as an insult if I got that close to the throne.” I pulled at the sleeve of my stained blouse. She looked at me and bit her lip.
The dark truth of my apprehension sat on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t say it. Not here.
“Well... just let me do my loop and promise me we can have at least one drink before you head back to the apartment.”
I weighed the options quickly but came to the same conclusion as always: keep it hidden.
I could survive a little longer.
“Ok, I promise. I’ll just wander around… and blend in as much as possible,” I murmured, but my skin began to prickle. The surge ran through me once again and I held back a wince, biting my lip so hard I nearly drew blood.
“Come find me when you’re done with your presentation. But please don’t take too long,” I motioned for her to go, but she paused, bringing her eyes up to meet mine. Her face twisted as she inspected me.
“Fia… are you okay? Your eyes seem darker than usual. Have you been sleeping?” she whispered, leaning in closer. “More night terrors?”
“I’m fine, Osta. It’s just been a long day. Now go show off your dress.” I hid my shaking hands behind my back.
Her smile returned and she nodded, disappearing into the crowd. I didn’t want to disappoint her, but after the week I’d had… I could feel the edges of my control slipping away by the minute. And it was dangerous for both of us to be anywhere near here, even if she didn’t share my fears.
Osta, a fellow Riftborne, was one of the few left in the city. Across the Isle, our numbers had dwindled to a mere handful, barely a few hundred. The devastation in Riftdremar had claimed most Riftborne children already, and those who had been brought to Sídhe seemed to vanish year after year.
But somehow, through everything, Osta always remained positive. She navigated the divide much easier than I did. She could walk down the street with her sleeves casually tugged down, blending in. At least in the beginning - long enough for people to develop a sense of comfort before realizing what she was.
As soon as Osta was out of sight, I made my way to the outskirts of the party once again. A few lingering stares followed me, and a chill ran up my spine.
It wasn’t easy to avoid the wandering curiosity of strangers when you looked like me. People had always been able to sense my otherness. There were Aossí with unique attributes, sure. I just happened to bear a particularly unsettling combination of them. My icy hair did me no favors. Each weightless curl danced in the air like static had taken me over. Though I’d tied it up successfully this morning, the stress of the day had unleashed it in full glory. Now I couldn’t even tuck it behind the points of my ears.
My one redeeming quality could have been my opalescent eyes, had they not been shrouded in perpetual shadows. The darkness fanned out, waging war on my pale skin. I was well aware I looked like a raging insomniac. However, rest had no effect on my ghastly appearance, leaving me to assume it was simply a case of terribly unlucky genetics.
A gentle breeze drifted through the Grove, kissing my skin with a refreshing coolness and interrupting my thoughts.
The further I got from the commotion, the more my senses came to life. I stopped at a patch of trees up the hill. It provided a decent vantage point, allowing for a view of the lights and dancing bodies below.
The General shifted effortlessly between partners.
For another brief instant, his eyes locked with mine, and my breath caught in my lungs. It’s like he was seeking me out.
Was he?
There was that same intensity in his stare that I couldn’t quite place–something dark and… intoxicating. His gaze continued to burn through me, and my body began to feel weightless. I tore my eyes away from his and stumbled back a few paces, the party disappearing from view.
The sinking feeling of discomfort crept into my bones. I didn’t like being seen. I didn’t want him to see me, of all people. The thought of a General’s attention on me made me want to evaporate.
The breeze picked up, and the most mesmerizing scent filled my nose - lily of the valley. My mind nearly melted at the smell. I hadn’t found a wild batch of them in ages, and traders seldom had them in their inventories. With there being no way to accurately recreate the floral profile, it remained an expensive and evasive luxury.
Perhaps a quick forage would calm me down.
I followed the aroma into the tree line, hunting for the white belled flowers in the dim moonlight. Perhaps a silver-lining to an otherwise emotionally crippling evening?
A subtle note turned me left, pulling me several paces before I found a patch on the forest floor.
Slipping off my gloves, I knelt to gather the bunches, tying them together with a piece of twine before tucking them into the folded sachet of my Apothecary belt. I patted down the compartments, making sure all my tools were indeed still secure. I felt my tiny notebooks, quills, bottles, and vials, all where they were supposed to be.
As I stood, I could hear the last vestiges of a song coming to end. Osta would be looking for me. It was time to have this drink, say my goodbyes, and finally end this curse of a day.
A part of me, one I’m ashamed of, thought briefly about wandering further into the safety of the woods, escaping to the anonymity of Luminaria’s streets, finding our apartment, and launching into bed…
Osta would hate me.
You can have one drink.
I headed in the direction of the party, dodging fallen branches, and groaned. I hadn’t realized how far I’d made it into the forest.
Just as I saw the edge of the wood, a chill ran over my skin. I heard the sounds of laughing and crunching twigs headed straight for me. Oh Esprithe.
I was in no condition to run into anyone out here. I practically glowed in the dark. Great thinking Fia, walking off by yourself in the middle of the night.
I clenched my fists.
Just breathe.
I tried to move out of their path. The sounds of their movement were getting louder as they advanced, and it was then that I recognized the shrill voice, complaining about someone wearing the same dress as her, and a second voice joining in to affirm.
Bekha and Jordaan.
It had been years since I’d seen them, but I would recognize those voices anywhere. Memories flooded back as their shrieks echoed through the trees.
Their mother was Lady Nessa Fairbanks, the woman who ran Luminaria’s House of Unity, the foster home where Osta and I grew up alongside some of the other Riftborne children. Every ounce of cruelty that lived within that woman had been passed down to her daughters three-fold. The Patriarch of the family had died in the frontlines of the uprising, and Lady Fairbanks never let us forget it. It was as if we had killed him with our own hands.
That was our first taste of prejudice. It seemed like a whole other lifetime now, growing up in that place. We had all left years ago, back before the true terrors of this world were revealed to us. Back before my friends were murdered.
I was eighteen when I watched them drown beneath the currents of the Sprithe River. And though five years had passed, I’d been stuck in a constant state of fear ever since.
I shoved the thought away and dug my nails into my palms. Heat was already spanning the length of my body, simmering just under my skin. Waiting. And this train of thought was a dangerous one.
The girls approached, and I ducked my head, hoping they’d pass without starting what was sure to be an enchanting conversation. One that could very well send me flying over the edge.
And just like that, the forest floor betrayed me. I stumbled over a muddy branch and lost my balance. My hands hit the earth below and fear shot through me. I hadn’t put my gloves back on.
My branding was laid bare in the darkness, reflecting the dancing lights from the sky above.
I crossed my arms as I stood, and the girls looked me up and down, tipping their noses at my stained uniform before turning to each other and snickering.
“Bekha. Jordaan.” I nodded, looking up to the sky. Could the Esprithe just strike me down now?
“Fia Riftborne… what a lovely surprise. How long has it been? Six, seven years? That pathetic white hair is still hard to miss,” Jordaan smirked. “And your skin… I see you never did learn what a few hours in the sun could do,” she chided before looking over to Bekha.
“And those same creepy eyes.” The short brunette curled her lips into a smirk. “Or better yet, those hideous dark circles. You really haven’t changed at all.”
“Such a shame. You could have been quite pretty. Parts of you have potential… but no amount of pigment could fix the ghastliness,” Jordaan continued, ice slicking her voice.
“We really should catch up sometime. I’m sure mother would absolutely love to hear all about your time away from us.” Bekha’s eyes traveled down to my clothes once again. “Are you living on the streets now?”
“Are we done here?” I asked as they fell silent. I knew I should have held my tongue, but I often had trouble doing so.
Bekha glared at me.
“What are you anyway?” she asked, her voice thick with vitriol.
Original.
I rolled my eyes and brushed past them.
I needed to get out of here.
“Disgusting Riftborne. You were always so rude. So ungrateful. You’re lucky our mother had a kind heart and took pity on you. If it were up to me, all of you would have burned with the rest of your treacherous country,” Jordaan spat.
I paused, clenching my teeth.
Just keep walking.
I mentally repeated the words, desperate to distract myself from the mind-shattering surge running through my head like a blade. Pain shot across the base of my skull.
I sucked in a breath, making my way back into the night with shaky, unsteady steps—towards the dancing lights that now seemed undoubtedly safer than the faux solitude of the forest.
Bekha cleared her throat.
“Dams are just so unpredictable… I heard about what happened to your little Riftborne pack. Absolutely devastating. Perhaps if they could swim faster…”
I stopped. There it was.
Their words hit me like a dagger, finding its mark right in my center.
My jaw began to tremble, and another jolt of white-hot pain invaded my mind, lighting my thoughts on fire and sending currents through my entire body. Starved currents. Lethal currents.
No! Don’t do this here! The better part of my brain was roaring.
But then I heard their laughter...
My muscles went rigid, and the world around me blurred, tinging my vision with a translucent haze. A scream threatened to tear through me as I fought to keep control, but I could already feel myself losing the battle.
It was happening. And I couldn’t stop it.
Once it got to this point, I never could.
The last vestiges of my control snapped like a frayed rope. The unrelenting curse surged to the surface, flooding my veins with an intense and unstoppable fury. I spun to face the girls as the ground trembled beneath me, the air crackling with energy.
As if I reacted outside my own realm of authority, I thrust my hands forward, unleashing a searing torrent of force. The blast tore through the air, finding the girls in an instant.
They stumbled back, looking at each other in horror and confusion. I could do nothing but watch as they opened their mouths to scream, but no sound escaped. Realization washed over them in silent horror as the vortex of energy stole their voices.
Time seemed to slow as a haunting radiance began to pulse from their eyes, hot and blinding like an exploding celestial body.
How delicious it was to feel the power break the confines of my skin. To be rid of it, even for a fleeting moment. I hated myself for the pleasure that radiated through me. My eyes bore into the sight of the girls, unable to tear my vision from the gruesome scene unfolding ahead.
Wisps of spectral energy curled around strands of their hair and gowns. Crimson tar began to flow from their noses as though their minds were being strangled by an invisible grip.
They fell to the ground. The energy continued to weave patterns around their unconscious forms before slowly releasing itself into the ether.
I stood frozen. The last pulses of energy resonated around me like heat emanating from hot pavement. The world held its breath.
Slowly, the aura lessened, and I felt the weight of my actions crash down upon me. The trance broke.
Were they dead?
I stumbled over to their lifeless forms and my knees hit the ground, damp grass embracing my fall. Please. Please don’t be dead.
But I couldn’t bring myself to check. To touch them. I could tell from the overwhelming stillness that they weren’t breathing. If they were dead…
A wave of nausea swept over me, threatening to expel the entirety of my dinner. The silence of the forest was screaming, as if nature itself recoiled from me. Tears welled in my eyes.
I dug my fingers into the dirt. How could I allow myself to lose control like this? I should have kept walking. Fuck, I should have kept walking.
Tears streamed down my face, blurring out the world around me as regret crept into my blood and bones. One thought permeated.
Run.
My legs ached as they found their balance, and I stood, trembling. I took a shaky step towards the tree line just as a twig snapped from behind me.
I spun to find a pair of familiar, hauntingly emerald eyes nearly pulsing in the darkness. The
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