《Through the Mirror》 Prologue Yesleign At the Close Her slender fingers shook as they reached for the frame of the magic mirror. The gilded gold frame swirled in dizzying circles around the glass, heavy, deep and ornate reminders of the weight of what she was about to do. She knew how this would end - with her laying lifeless on the ground. She knew that the prince would come, but that even he would not be able to save her this time. Within the frame the glass was clouded with a black fog. Inside the shadows churned in eager anticipation, sensing her gaze upon the glass. Darkness called out to darkness. Loose black curls crept down her back, a stark contrast against the red cloak slung across her shoulders. The weight of the warm red wool kept the cold of the room from reaching her. Yet, her shallow breaths left in swirling white whispers from her ruby red lips.The dark hum within her pulsed, spilling icy blackness into her bloodstream. The darkness within her responded to whatever was calling out to her from the other side of the glass. She didn¡¯t try to fight it this time, allowing the magic to surge through her as a pounding ache. The magic felt like ice pumping through her veins. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. She knew the rules. She knew there would be consequences. She knew that fate would claim a cost, that one couldn¡¯t ask something of the dark magic without giving something up in return. And yet she stood in front of the mirror¡¯s shimmering surface, ready to ask. From within the swirling surface a voice slithered out. It spoke in an unnatural and unsettling whisper. ¡°Hello daughter of the Wild North. Girl with skin as pale as snow, Hair as black as ravens wings, Lips as red as a rose, And dark magic in her veins. We see you.¡± One Yesleign Before ¡°Get up! Go again.¡± She lay face down on the cold damp earth. Pain radiated down her entire arm from where she¡¯d tried to catch herself as she had violently hit the ground. ¡°Get up I said!¡± His voice was harsh and unrelenting behind her. ¡°Maybe ease up on her, Tristan.¡± Lance had clearly stopped his sparring to watch her epic failure. His voice was laced with pity. That pity made her angry. She pushed herself up onto her knees, causing another seering throb in her arm. ¡°No. She wanted to train like one of the men, so I intend to treat her like one.¡± Tristan might be an ass but at least he wasn¡¯t codling her. She stood and turned to face him. There was a light rain starting and the dampness caused thick locks of his dark hair that had become loose from their binding to stick to his face. ¡°Again.¡± He said with a slight nod at her. She pushed past the pain to whip the sword up into an offensive position. Tristan slowly raised his in response. ¡°What was your mistake last time?¡± ¡°Asking for your help.¡± She smirked at him. He swung, barely missing her shoulder. Clearly he didn¡¯t appreciate her sarcasm. ¡°Your mistake Leign was that you were too busy thinking about your own sword, you weren¡¯t watching mine. You always need to be on the defensive.¡± They were circling each other while talking. His piercing blue eyes were fixed on her. She met his gaze with defiance. He might be one of the best warriors in the kingdom, the clear favorite to be the next Commander of the King¡¯s Guard, but that didn¡¯t mean she needed to grovel in front of him like most others did. All the other men who¡¯d been training, including her three brothers, had stopped to watch, no doubt hoping to watch her get her ass handed to her. She would prove them wrong. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. ¡°You have to assess your opponent to find their weaknesses. That weakness is your opening.¡± ¡°Very clear instructions.¡± She was being sarcastic again and she knew it would cost her but she was hurt and tired and over his bullshit. ¡°Just find the weakness of one of the best fighters in the kingdom and then somehow turn that into something with this sword? I¡¯m so clear on exactly what to do.¡± She heard her brother Ronan snort behind her. ¡°If you haven¡¯t figured out a single weakness of mine yet then you clearly haven¡¯t been paying close enough attention during our training sessions.¡± Oh fuck him. They''d been training for weeks now. She had always been proficient, more than proficient actually, with a bow but she wanted to learn more. Yesleign was one of the last of the line of the Women of the North. - women with skin as pale as snow, hair as black as raven¡¯s wings, and lips as red as a rose. The Women of the North used to be queens that wielded magic to rule the Northern Territory of Driam. If her ancestors, the strong and wild Women of the North, could see her now they¡¯d be rolling over in their graves. She wanted to be strong and powerful like they were, not weak and helpless. So she''d asked Tristan to help her. She was surprised when he''d willingly agreed. Now she knew he agreed because it meant he got to torture and humiliate her daily. He was a real knight in shining armor. She hadn¡¯t noticed any weaknesses of his during their training. He seemed to be good at everything. If she couldn¡¯t figure out his weakness, she¡¯d have to use her strengths. This damn sword certainly wasn¡¯t a strength, it was weighing her down. With each step, the weight of the steel in her injured arm threatened to break her. The rain made the hilt slippery in her palm. It took all her strength to not drop this damn thing. ¡°Make a plan Leign, we don¡¯t have all day.¡± He smirked at her. He knew she was going to fail and he was enjoying toying with her. She would never be able to beat him this way. So she threw the sword to the ground and ran. ¡°Yesleign! Get your ass back here!¡± Tristan screamed after her but she was already off. Her feet hammering against the cold, hard earth as she ran. She could hear the other men snickering but she didn¡¯t care. When she reached the edge of the pavilion grounds she grabbed a bow and arrow and spun. Before Tristan could even register what she was doing she¡¯d released the arrow, aiming it for his hand. Instinctively he dropped his sword and lunged out of the arrow¡¯s path. She had another arrow already loaded and pointed at Tristan but he didn¡¯t move. No one spoke. It was eerily silent in the pavilion. The only sound came from the rain hitting the earth as it fell from the sky. Tristan¡¯s cool blue eyes were locked on her. She couldn¡¯t tell if he was pissed or pleased. There was a light wind now and it blew some of the soft black curls that had escaped her braid across her face. She held her breath waiting for him to say something, anything. ¡°If you can¡¯t find your opponent¡¯s weakness then you have to play to your own strengths. I¡¯m impressed, daughter.¡± She hadn¡¯t noticed her father standing at the far end of the pavilion watching but when he spoke everyone spun to look at him. He was a huge man with light brown hair covering most of his face. They called in the Bear of the North not just because he was a fierce fighter, but because there was a wildness to his appearance. Her father had formally been the Commander of the King¡¯s Guard, now he had the duty of training the young warriors who would one day become members of the King¡¯s Guard. It was her father who had recommended she ask Tristan to train her. In fact, he had told her that unless Tristan was the one training her, he wouldn¡¯t permit her to train with a sword. She¡¯d argued but he wouldn¡¯t give so she was stuck with the dark haired brute as her trainer. ¡°We already knew you were good with a bow. You¡¯re supposed to be training with a sword. We will end your training with twenty laps around the pavilion, as punishment. And you will carry your sword the entire way.¡± Tristan glared at her as he spoke, finally rising from the ground and picking up his sword. He sheathed the blade behind his back and turned away from her, signaling that he was done with her for the day. Something deep within her stirred. An ache of something dark and powerful slithered seemingly out from her soul. She pushed it down and checked her arm. They were still just as pale as always. Focusing on her breath, she begun her laps. Two ¡°Ouch!¡± Yesleign cried as the comb ripped through her hair. Her stepmother ignored her cry of pain, running the comb through the mess of dark curls again. Pins were pinched between her stepmother¡¯s fingers, waiting to be inserted into the plait she was attempting to form. Yesleign laughed internally as a curl sprung loose out of her stepmother¡¯s grasp. Yesleign¡¯s hair was as wild as her soul. ¡°You are the daughter of the Warden of the North.¡± Her stepmother spoke through gritted teeth as she continued trying to fix Yesleign¡¯s hair. ¡°The royal family is on their way and it is imperative that everyone in this household, including yourself, makes a good impression!¡± ¡°I know.¡± She did know. Her stepmother had been in a tizzy for weeks trying to prepare for the arrival of the royal family. ¡°You and your brother¡¯s are always covered in mud, running through the hills, like a pack of wild animals. That will not be the case when our guests arrive.¡± Yesleign was one of five children. She had three older brothers and one younger brother. She was the only girl of the family. Her mother had died when Yesleign was a young girl. Her father had remarried a few years ago. His new wife was cold and stern. Yesleign didn¡¯t dislike her stepmother, but they certainly weren¡¯t close. ¡°Your training is on pause. You will not be caught in pants while our guests are here and if I see you even think about picking up a weapon -.¡± ¡°Lady Stepmother I am aware of the expectations.¡± Yesleign¡¯s tone was curt. Her stepmother pulled her hair tighter in response. ¡°You¡¯re older now Yesleign, not a child anymore. You¡¯re becoming a woman and as a woman you need to behave in a certain way. We can¡¯t have you embarrassing us today.¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t that exactly why father agreed to let me train these past few weeks? So that when you all ship me off to The Capital, since I¡¯m becoming a woman and all, I¡¯ll be able to defend myself?¡± Yesleign could feel the anger beginning to boil within her center. Her stepmother let out an exasperated sigh as her slender, pointed fingers placed the final pin in Yesleign¡¯s hair. ¡°Yesleign, your father is depending on you. Things have been¡­unstable lately. There are whispers about the woods. We need to make a good impression. This visit is important.¡± They lived in the Kingdom of Driam, one of the seven kingdoms of the continent. Long ago magic and monsters had roamed freely across the land. When the age of men had begun, the magic had been outlawed. Legends told how the magic had been contained within the darkness of the Shadow Woods. Yesleign¡¯s father, as Warden of the North, was responsible for maintaining the boundary between Driam and the Shadow Woods, the border between men and magic. But rumors had been swirling that the dark magic was slowly seeping back into their world. Yesleign knew these rumors to be true. She knew the magic was not contained completely in the dark shadows of the trees. Thinking about the dark magic sent a cold shiver down Yesleign¡¯s spine. Her breath hitched in her throat and her stomach swirled as she thought about it. ¡°Plus, once you¡¯re married to a man from The Capital, he will protect you.¡± ¡°What if he¡¯s the one I need protecting from?¡± Her stepmother didn¡¯t reply. Her bony fingers fell from Yesleign¡¯s hair. Her cold gray eyes appraised Yesleign in the mirror. ¡°Don¡¯t let us down today, Yesleign.¡± Yesleign felt like she couldn¡¯t breathe. Her hair was too tight, her dress too form fitting, her stepmother¡¯s gaze too intense. The talk of magic and royalty and her future was oppressive. She needed air. She needed to get out of here. ¡°If you¡¯ll excuse me Lady Stepmother, I feel as though I need some air. I might go walk in the garden.¡± Her stepmother¡¯s eyes narrowed to watch her in the mirror. ¡°Don¡¯t go too far and be back in time for the royal procession.¡± ¡°I promise.¡± Yesleign had no intention of keeping that promise. ***** Yesleign sat on a large rock outcropping overlooking the vast openness of the heathered hills. She had definitely wandered further away than she was supposed to. She sat on the rock reading, enjoying the early afternoon sunshine. Her skirts were hiked up well past what was decent, the sun warming her bare legs. A light wind rustled her hair, splaying dark curls that had come loose from the plait across her face. Rem was splayed out on the rock next to her, basking in the warmth of the sun. He was one of two white wolf pups that lived in their home. They were both technically Tristan¡¯s pups, he¡¯d brought them with them when he¡¯d come to train with her father. There were rumors that they were born under the twin full moon ascension but Yesleign thought that was probably just nonsense talk. Rem might have technically belonged to Tristan, but he seemed to favor her, he was like her pale shadow, always following her wherever she went. At times he would even blatantly ignore commands from Tristan and look to her for direction. The annoyance it caused Tristan made her incredibly happy. A book was perched on her lap. She was rereading one of her favorites. It was a story of knights and ladies, love and loss, dragons and demons. She knew each intricate turn and twist of the plot, having read it several times, but it didn¡¯t lessen the impact that the beauty of the words had on her heart. Books were an escape for Yesleign. A place she could go to forget, to not think about the darkness. Her family had an extensive library, collected by the previous women of her line and cared for deeply. She¡¯d read almost the entire library, many more than once. She favored stories like this one, stories of adventure, of far off fantastic places and the heroes that fought off the mythical monsters. She devoured these stories, often staying up late into the night telling herself she¡¯d read just one more chapter again and again and again. Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site. She wasn¡¯t surprised when she heard the lone rider approaching on horse. The sound of hooves thundered from the hills below her. She¡¯d seen the royal procession of horses and carriages pass on the road below a while ago. She knew that by now the royal family and their party would have reached her home. When she¡¯d spotted the red hooded riders leading the royal procession towards her house, she¡¯d contemplated getting up and running back to the house. She¡¯d decided against it. Instead, she¡¯d continued enjoying her afternoon reading in the sun. Now the sound of a horse was approaching. She had no doubts it would be Tristan riding to find her. He¡¯d know where to look, having come out to this exact spot with her many times. She pulled her skirts down, she might be too wild to be a dutiful and proper lady but at least she could attempt to be slightly modest. The horse came to a halt down below and she could tell he was sliding from the saddle and walking around the outcropping so he could see her. She didn¡¯t bother turning her head to where she knew he was standing beneath her, she was just reaching one of her favorite parts of her book. At the sight of Tristan below Rem stood and stretched. He gracefully lept from the rock down to the ground below, landing with a thud. Traitor. He sniffed at Tristan¡¯s outstretched hand and then greeted his twin, Rom, the matching white wolf pup. ¡°Hi Leign.¡± ¡°Hi Tristan.¡± ¡°You missed the arrival of the royal family.¡± She smirked, still not turning to face him. ¡°My book was just getting good. I didn¡¯t want to stop reading.¡± He walked around her to get a clearer view of her face from below. Her eyes were on her book but she could see the outline of the man below out of her periphery. Her heart thumped wildly as he drew closer. It took everything in her to maintain a cool and calm composure. She could clearly envision the smug smirk that would smear across his face if he realized how nervous he was making her. They sat in silence for a moment. She could feel his eyes roaming her, assessing her. She wasn¡¯t reading the words on the page at all, but she willed her eyes to move as if she were. ¡°You¡¯ve read that one before Leign, several times I¡¯m pretty sure. You could have put it down for a minute, instead of using it as an excuse to hide.¡± Finally she pulled her eyes away from the pages in front of her and looked up. Her eyes met his. His cool blue eyes were framed with messy black hair. His broad shoulders stretched against the seams of his tunic as he removed his red cloak. It was an uncharacteristically warm day and the thick red wool must have been oppressive. His face was stoic as he took one step closer to her. She felt her annoyance with him bubbling up inside her. He was exceptionally good at getting under her skin. ¡°I could have put it down but what would have been the point? The royal procession would have still beat me to the house, so I would have stumbled into the front hall winded, late, and disheveled as the royal family entered. Would that really have been better?¡± ¡°It would have at least been some effort put into acting like you care.¡± His tone told her that he was serious. ¡°And why should I care?¡± She cocked an eyebrow at him as she said it. An unspoken challenge laid before him. He dodged the question. ¡°Your stepmother is furious.¡± Yesleign rolled her eyes. Finally she closed her book and stood, dusting off her skirts as she did. She looked down, realizing she¡¯d climbed higher up on the rocks than she meant to. Her pulse quickened. The two white wolves were pacing anxiously below, twin sets of amber eyes fixated on her. If she fell it would definitely hurt. The thought caused her to take a step back, stumbling slightly. ¡°Here,¡± Tristan started with more sympathy in his voice as she approached the edge of the steep ledge, ¡°jump and I¡¯ll catch you.¡± He rolled up his sleeves, revealing lean but strong arms, she quickly averted her eyes before he could notice her staring. He held out a hand to her as a show of good faith. ¡°Absolutely not!¡± She retorted. However, upon further assessment, she didn¡¯t really see a better plan, and he knew it. Damn him. He was an arrogant asshole. She was stuck up on this rock and unless she wanted to look like a fool climbing down on her own while he sat behind watching and laughing then she¡¯d have to jump to him. She was stuck and he knew it. ¡°Don¡¯t you trust me?¡± He asked, cocking an eyebrow at her, hand outstretched further still. An unspoken challenge was laced in his words, payback for the challenge she¡¯d thrown his way a moment ago. ¡°You¡¯ll have to jump Leign,¡± he urged. ¡°You swear you¡¯ll catch me?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not going to let you fall.¡± She could have sworn the corner of his lips twitched, but he shoved the smirk back down. She sighed, breathed out slowly, steadied her nerves. The wind whipped her hair around her face again. It was further down than she¡¯d remembered climbing up. She bent her knees and lept, unintentionally snapping her eyes shut and she fell into the empty air. She braced for the inevitable impact of her body crashing to the earth. Instead she felt the impact of hands tucking tightly into her waist, absorbing the impact of her leap from above. Instinctively her hands rested on his shoulders. They were strong and reassuring against her thundering pulse. She snapped her eyes open to see he had indeed caught her. His eyes met hers and for a moment she thought he was leaning in towards her. She quickly pulled away. ¡°We better get back. The sooner I get this over with, the better.¡± ¡°And what¡¯s that?¡± ¡°The inevitable cruel and unusual punishment that stepmother dearest will come up with for me. She is going to be very upset that I¡¯m late.¡± ¡°Leign, we need to talk. The reason the royal family is here¡­they¡¯re not just here for a visit but -.¡± They both heard the horse at the same time. Someone else was riding this way. From the sound of it, they were right around the bend. ¡°Did you bring someone else with you?¡± She asked Tristan. He shook his head, confusion knit between his brows. ¡°No.¡± His hand went to his sword reflexively. ¡°Here, get behind me Leign.¡± She rolled her eyes. ¡°Oh calm down, I¡¯m sure it¡¯s nothing.¡± She walked around him, trying to peer beyond the hill to see the rider as the sound of the horse grew louder. A huge black beast of a horse was riding towards them at full speed. A mountain of a man sat on the horse. ¡°Fuck.¡± She groaned. ¡°It¡¯s Morhold.¡± Her older brother Regald¡¯s friend Mordhold was the last person she wanted to deal with right now. Mordhold was a giant of a man. A year older even than her oldest brother, he was several years her senior and he loomed larger than any person she¡¯d ever seen before. His head was barren of hair, a jagged surface of uneven bone covered in tight, hairless flesh. Thick, bold, dark eyebrows and a rough, scraggly beard covered most of the rest of his face. Rumors swarmed that he was the product of a forbidden relationship between a local woman and a giant of the Shadow Wood. Yesleign believed those rumors to be false. He was just a giant ass of a man, both literally and figuratively, as far as she was concerned. He came to a stop a few feet from her. ¡°Your brother sent me to find you, My Lady. I was to inform you that the guests had arrived but I see you¡¯re already privy to that fact.¡± ¡°And now I¡¯m found so you can leave Morhold.¡± A sneer spread across his face, making him look even more monstrous. ¡°I¡¯m to return you promptly so you can properly greet all of the royal family.¡± ¡°I can get back just fine on my own thanks,¡± she replied through gritted teeth, pulling back on he stockings, slipping toes into shoes. She¡¯d left them at the bottom of the rocks so she could climb up easily. He scoffed. ¡°I am to return you promptly,¡± he repeated. Rem bared his teeth and growled at Morhold who shot the wolf a dirty look in response. ¡°I¡¯ll bring her back with me.¡± Tristan stated from behind her. He spoke with authority. She was not in the mood for this. She didn¡¯t want to play the rope in their game of tug of war. She got herself out here, she was perfectly capable of walking herself back if these two would just leave her alone. ¡°No need to trouble yourself.¡± Mordhold retorted as he grabbed her roughly by the arm and lifted her onto the horse to sit in front of him. She grunted in discomfort but it didn¡¯t seem to be of concern to him. She felt his dark gaze from behind her, traveling down her neckline. She squirmed against his presence but he held tight around her waist. ¡°You¡¯re hurting me.¡± She spoke through gritted teeth but the giant behind her merely laughed. When she looked up she saw Tristan watching the scene on the horse in front of him, blue eyes flickered grey with anger. She hadn¡¯t seen him look this way before, with that twisted anger curling through his irises. Something about his look unsettled her. She jerked against Mordhold as the horse backed up, then they turned and headed off. Three She hadn¡¯t been paying attention as they rode. If she had she¡¯d have put up more of a fight, tried to convince him to avoid the woods, to steer clear. She¡¯d been distracted. She was only drawn back out from within herself when she felt the chill of the cold air stinging her lungs, the shadows creeping up the skin of her arms to her shoulders. Morhold had taken them far off the path, into the shadows and darkness of the woods. The hum within her was calling out to the whispers that hid within the gnarled trunks surrounding them. She spun around swiftly, too fast for him to have time to divert his gaze before she saw he¡¯d been looking not ahead, but over her, towards the swell of flesh creeping out from the tight bodice of her deep blue dress. The cool shiver that had been growing in her bloomed into full on panic. She needed to get out of the woods. ¡°Where the hell are we going?¡± She spit at the rider who was guiding them deeper into the shadows and shade. ¡°Taking a detour.¡± He looked ahead and not down at her as he answered her. The way he said it was strange, as if trying to sound casual but unsuccessfully. The unease continued to grow within Yesleign. Something was not right. After a moment they reached a clearing within the woods. Here the trees seemed to have arranged themselves into a circle; the sky completely obscured by the glossy green foliage above. The effect was that of the darkness of night, set within a circle of old, thick trees. The bark on the trees was twisted, swirling in thick black wisps of wood and crimson sap, as though the trees were contorted, bent, bleeding onto the earth. Long ago these trees might have stood proud and tall, reaching gracefully towards the sun. Now they looked as though they¡¯d been distorted, the magic held within the forest had broken them. The ground here was uneven, covered in a tangled network of angular roots and dark moss. She could feel the goosebumps spreading up her arms towards her shoulders. Inside her something stirred, an unsettling pull of something pushing through her veins. Mordhold dismounted. ¡°Something feels off with the horse''s pace. Might be a loose shoe,¡± he stated, tying the horse to one of the nearby branches. ¡°Felt fine to me.¡± She was aiming to sound defiant, trying to not sound as worried as she was. He grunted, gruffly grabbing her and placing her on the ground. She stepped away from him quickly. As he was examining the horses hooves, something caught her eye. Something moved just beyond the trees of the grove. She turned, certain she¡¯d seen movement. She heard something shifting in the vegetation ahead. ¡°Did you hear that?¡± Her voice sounded more scared than she¡¯d meant it to be. ¡°It¡¯s just an animal or something.¡± Carefully climbing over the tangled mess of forest growth, she inched closer to the trees along the far edge of the circle from where they were. The darkness of the forest canopy made it exceptionally hard to tell but it seemed like there was something lurking in the shadows beyond the trees, something large. She heard¡­something. ¡°I think we should get out of the woods.¡± She hadn¡¯t taken her eyes off the trees in front of her. There was something there, she was sure of it. The dark hum inside her pulsed frantically. ¡°The only thing you have to fear in these woods is me.¡± Suddenly a hand behind her grabbed her upper arm. She tried to lurch away. One foot tripped over a jagged tree root, the other slipped on a patch of moist moss. She skidded, then fell. She didn¡¯t remember hitting her head when she fell, but she registered the splitting pain, stars swirling in the blackness behind her firmly shut eyes as her consciousness slid back into place. The pain was radiating from the back of her head, nausea swam through her in response to the pain. She took a few deep breaths, recentered, taking stock of what was happening. One of Morhold¡¯s hands was clawing at her, ripping at the lacing of her bodice. The other hand was pawing at her skirts, shifting them higher and higher up her legs, past her knees. Angular, bony, strong knees were between her thighs, pushing against them, baring into the soft snowy flesh. A horrible mash of teeth and tongue were assaulting her neck. The hair of his awful beard was scratching the delicate line of her collarbone. ¡°Get off me!¡± She managed to choke out. The splitting ache in her head seared and she almost collapsed back into darkness. She was scared and in pain. She felt small and lost. As she searched within herself for the strength to kick or scream, to fight, she found something in the depths of her. There was something inside her that ached to be acknowledged. As she held onto the feeling of it, it started to grow, to bloom. The vines of dark power begin to spread through her, down her limbs. She opened her eyes. ¡°Oh you¡¯re awake, pity.¡± He was breathing heavily. His words were labored as he sucked in air. ¡°This is always easier when the girls are out cold.¡± All of a sudden, she felt his finger reach up her inner thigh. The rough and dry scraped skin of his thick fingers plowing into the delicate flesh above her knee. She let out a cry of pain, discomfort and fear. For a moment he stopped, still holding tight to her thigh. He looked down at her. ¡°If I¡¯d had known you were eager to please I would have attempted this ages ago. I figured you were still a budding rose, but after what I witnessed earlier, I guess you¡¯re in full bloom.¡± ¡°And what is it you think you witnessed?¡± She spat the words at him, desperately kicking out her arms and legs out, trying to break free. She had been training with Tristan for weeks but in this moment she felt completely helpless. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. ¡°Come on Yesleign. A young woman out alone with a handsome young member of the royal family. I know exactly what you were doing.¡± He sneered at her. ¡°This still might hurt though, I¡¯ve been told I¡¯m exceptionally large.¡± He was leering down at her, a cold hunger in her eyes. She suddenly grew terrified. With each pounding beat of her heart, she could feel that dark thing deep within her unfurling further, being pulled deeper into the twisting network of veins underneath the pale surface of her skin. The forest around her seemed to sense what was happening inside her. She could have sworn that the limbs of the trees were stretching closer, the roots twisting inward, the mist was seeping closer, all in unison with the pounding that came from within. Something dark within her was aching to be released, set free, and the forest was reaching out to help it. ¡°Get off of me,¡± was all she could manage. The weight of him was crushing her chest, breathing and speaking were difficult. The forest was definitely closing in around them now, so close she thought the trees might reach out and rip him off of her. The darkness within her was calling out to the woods and the shadows seemed to be hearing her. When she looked down, her arms were stained with black, as if ink was running through her veins. He ignored her request. She clawed at his face, thorns at the end of her fingers slicing through his skin. He paused momentarily, then grabbed both her wrists in one of his massive hands. He pushed her arms above her head, pinning her arms down. All he had to do was look up at her arms and he¡¯d know what she was. Panic gripped her heart. Something behind them in the woods snapped. He leaned down until his lips were almost touching her ear and whispered to her, ¡°the more you fight this, the more I¡¯m going to relish tearing you apart.¡± Something behind his shoulder caught her eye. More like somethings. Eyes, glowing through the darkness and mist. Amber slits piercing through the forest, fixated on her. A low growl reached across the expanse of forest floor towards her ears. Morhold didn''t hear, he was too busy, he was back to biting her, pulling at her, pawing at her. ¡°Clearly all that training with the bastard of the royal family didn¡¯t actually teach you anything. If you ask me, he was just using it as an excuse to get close to you.¡± His hand trailed further up her thigh. His fingers hooked on to the band of her underwear. ¡°Remove your hands from her or I will remove your head from your body.¡± The cold prick of steel pressed against the skin on the back of his neck was enough to get Morhold to stop. He paused his pursuit, slowly releasing her from his grip. ¡°To your knees,¡± Tristan commanded, sword still pointed at the back of Morhold¡¯s massive neck. Tristan¡¯s messy black hair framed his face where cool blue eyes were aflame with anger. There was something in his look, something wild and unsettling. His command came out harsh, rough, almost as a growl. Morhold was on his knees, anger splayed across his face but it was clear he knew there wasn¡¯t a way out of this. Yesleign crawled and skirted away from the men, back crashing against the rough bark of a nearby tree. Against the strong and sturdy strength of the tree her breathing slowed, the blossoming within retracted. Her wolf and his brother, Remus and Romulus, circled around, placing themselves between the two men and Yesleign. She was grateful. The flame of anger within Tristan¡¯s eyes weaved down the rest of his face. His jaw was set and teeth clenched. His hand shook with rage. The fingers not holding his sword were curved up into his palm. ¡°What exactly was your plan here?¡± Tristan spat the words at the back of Morholds head, never releasing his angry stare from the back of the man¡¯s head. ¡°Were you really going to rape your best friend¡¯s little sister in the wild woods?¡± As Morhold stood, arms still raised in submission, she saw a smirk start to spread on his face. He turned his head to face Tristan in order to respond, ¡°you know what they say about the women of the North - wild and fierce, but inside as tender as a flower.¡± As he said this the flicker of anger in Tristan¡¯s face lit anew. His eyes grew dark, a storm cloud of gray spreading across his irises. ¡°I¡¯ve always been curious what that was like. I thought perhaps this flower hadn¡¯t been plucked from the vine yet and wanted to find out for myself if what they say is true, but perhaps you had the same idea?¡± With the last words Morhold turned and cocked his eyebrow up at the man who¡¯s steel was still pointed squarely at his throat. Something flickered in the woods. Two pairs of glowing amber eyes between the trees. She blinked, shook her head. She must have fallen harder than she thought, hit her head against a tree root. The pair of wolf pups were in front of her, their eyes couldn¡¯t be reflecting back at her from within the swirling mist. Something wasn¡¯t right here. She squeezed her eyes closed and swallowed down that which was swelling within her again. When she opened her eyes there was nothing between the trees but empty darkness. Again something within her screamed out - they had to get out of the woods. She shifted her focus back to the men in front of her. Morhold was on his feet, back pushed up against one of the mangled trunks. Tristan¡¯s sword was balanced steadily at the giant man¡¯s throat. ¡°Leign, there¡¯s a length of rope in my saddle bag. Grab it,¡± Tristan said to her without taking his eyes away from the prisoner in front of him. She carefully placed her hands on the ground beneath her, felt the cool dampness of the moss on the ground. The soft and spongy earth sank between her fingers, feeling as though she was almost falling into the earth below, becoming part of the woods. The feeling was unsettling. She pushed off and stood. ¡°Here.¡± She placed the length of rope she¡¯d grabbed from the saddle bag in Tristan¡¯s hand. When their skin touched he squeezed her hand, an attempt at comfort, care. She squeezed back in thanks. Slowly Tristan lowered his sword slightly. ¡°If you try anything the wolves will rip you limb from limb, and then I will do worse.¡± He threatened as he sheathed his sword, unwinding the rope in his hands. As he said it brother wolves snarled in unison. He started wrapping the rope around Morhold¡¯s wrists, but then moved to wrap it around the tree. When the giant of a man realized what was happening, panic and fear spread across his face. However it wasn¡¯t him that spoke. ¡°Tristan, you can¡¯t leave him tied up here.¡± Yesleign said softly, trying to cover the horror in her voice. That cold darkness flashed again in his eyes as he finally turned to look at her. She recoiled back slightly. ¡°He deserves worse than that. I¡¯m not bringing him back with us.¡± His tone was short, clipped, not open for discussion. The atmosphere within the trees swarmed, the buzzing hum of the woods seemed to swell. Once the ropes had been wrapped and knots firmly tied Tristan lifted her up onto the saddle of her horse. He swung into the seat behind her, arms wrapped protectively around her. As they departed she stole one last look at Morhold, a look of defiance and anger marked his face but she could have sworn she saw a glimpse of fear in his eyes as they turned and left him. The further they got away from the clearing the more the cold seemed to melt away. Her breaths came slower and softer, she no longer felt like an animal caught in a trap. She dared a glance down at her arms. They were back to normal. She breathed a small sigh of relief. Tristan shifted, wrapping the dark wool of his cloak around them both, drawing her in towards him tighter. The further they went the warmer he seemed to grow, a comforting heat enveloping her. Exhausted from fear and cold, she leaned back, head resting comfortably underneath his chin, pressed against his warm and steady figure. She sensed him stiffen with surprise at first, then he relaxed back against her warmth in return. They could go back to hating each other tomorrow. ¡°Thank you for saving me,¡± she whispered softly. They rode the rest of the way back in silence. Rem and Rom led the path out of the woods, their white bodies slickly skimming through the mess of twisted trees. When they were clear of the shadows and darkness of the woods, Yesleign dared a glance back. She swore she saw two pairs of amber flicker among the trees, something tall and large looming above in the shadows. As she looked, whatever it was, whatever had been watching them from the edge of the trees, turned and retreated into the forest. A moment later a scream split the calm quiet of the air. It was undoubtedly Morhold. The scream was not one of anger or pain, it was a piercing scream of fear. The sound made chills creep up the length of her spine. Four As they moved closer to her family¡¯s house she could make out her stepmother waiting at the gates, a sense of dread built inside Yesleign. She knew she was in trouble for not being in attendance when the procession from the Capital had arrived. She knew her stepmother would have strong words for her, most of them regarding the appropriate behavior for a young woman. She would inevitably deal with that, but she had something more pressing to deal with first. ¡°Take me around to the back, where the boys are all training,¡± she told Tristan softly, not taking her eyes off her stepmother. ¡°You¡¯re not supposed to go anywhere near the pavilion while the king is here Leign.¡± ¡°I know.¡± Her tone was resolute. He didn¡¯t argue. Tristan pulled the reins up, signaling the horse to turn left, around the side of the house, towards the yard. Their house was large, not quite a castle like at the Capital, but a manor worthy of the Warden of the North. In the front was the main house, containing the major shared spaces - main hall, dining hall, kitchens, library, etc. Off to the right was the children¡¯s section of the house containing all of their rooms. The left wing was her fathers, and stepmothers now, area of the house with their rooms. Along the back, a bridge, open on both sides but covered with a roof, connected the two wings of the house. Either side of the bridge contained a staircase, a mirror image of one another, that led down to the gardens. The gardens behind the main area of their house were expansive, formal in the front closest to the house, with a wild and largely unkempt arbory in the back. Behind the gardens and running along the right side of the house were rows and rows of thick trees - the entrance to the Shadow Woods. Along the left side of the house was a large oval pavilion, used for military training and tournaments. On the far edge, past the pavilion were the stables and armory. Their dungeons, if you could even call them that, were located below the armory, which seemed like a major design flaw to Yesleign. They circled around the left side of the house and headed out towards the pavilion. ¡°You sure you¡¯re okay?¡± Tristan sounded worried behind her. He squeezed her against his chest, pulling her towards his warmth and strength. She pulled away. She prayed he hadn¡¯t noticed the way the woods had seemed to bend to her will back there. If he knew, if anyone knew, what she truly was, it would be the end of her. Yesleign looked down at herself, realizing she looked feral. Her dress was covered in mud, ripped along the bottom seams. Dark bruises were already forming around her arms where he¡¯d held her down, giving the impression of darkness seeping out of her wrists from within. Her hair was a mess, twigs and leaves tangled within. Her eyes were wild. ¡°I¡¯ll be fine.¡± She tried to sound more sure than she actually was. As they entered the pavilion, she slid from the horse, feet landing on the ground before the horse had even slowed. Tristan yelled after her but she was already running, feet bouncing lightly off the firm ground beneath her. She ran off to the right side of the pavilion, towards the stairs of the stands. As she reached the perimeter, she grabbed one of the bows that had been leaned up against the wall and a quiver of arrows, flinging the strap of the quiver across her shoulder as she leaped onto the steps. She could hear Tristan cursing and attempting a pursuit but she was lighter, quicker, and had a head start. She bounded the steps until she reached the height she would need for a correct angle and ran within the row of benches. With each footstep she could feel a pulsing from within. Anger and rage and power within radiated from her center and through the rest of her body. She could feel her veins pulling it through her entire being. When she reached the center of the row she pulled out an arrow and aimed directly at her second eldest brother. A darkness within her fed with the pain of what just happened coursed through her, steadying her hand, focusing her aim. ¡°REGALD!¡± She screamed as loudly as she could. The anger within her made her voice scratch and pull against her throat as the words left her. Most of the men there turned to look at her, some with a smirk across their face, thinking her foolish, but those who knew her, their faces were filled with horror. Her eyes were trained solely on her mark, lined up perfectly with the thin body of the arrow. Out of her periphery she saw Tristan begin to climb the stairs. She¡¯d be damned if she was going to let him stop her, even if that meant turning the bow on him. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Her brother then slowly spun and faced her. As he took in the sight before him, her wild anger, black curls billowing across her face, arrow pointed directly at him; an arrogant interest curled itself into his features. She released the arrow. ¡°Leign!¡± She heard Tristan yell, bounding quicker up the stairs. Her oldest brother, Elm, now too was moving towards her, up the steps on the opposite side from Tristan. The arrow hit its mark, landing in the earth squarely between the feet of her brother. He jumped back reflexively, looking first at the arrow in the ground where his foot had been a moment before, then up to meet her eyes. Anger spread across his face, a cold sneer rising in his lips. Another arrow pulled from the quiver, aimed at the man below. ¡°Brother,¡± she was yelling still, making sure her words reached their mark as swiftly as the arrow just had, ¡°when you sent your friend to retrieve me did you know he planned to try to assault me in the Shadow Woods?¡± She waited half a beat for his answer, but when none came she released the next arrow, this one flying past his right arm, grazing the top of his bicep, before planting itself within the wood of the perimeter behind. The sound of the arrow striking the wood reverberated through the silent pavilion. No one below dared move a muscle, all eyes were focused on her with fearful intensity. A thin string of red bloomed across her brother¡¯s arm. He winced and instinctively grabbed at it. ¡°Yesleign what the hell are you doing?!¡± This time it was Elm yelling, bounding up the stairs two at a time. She didn¡¯t take her eyes off her mark. She pulled another arrow, aiming it directly at him, eyes narrowed to meet his. ¡°Did you?¡± She repeated in a voice of pure cold fury. Her brother answered through gritted teeth, anger seeped through every word, ¡°are you sure you weren¡¯t just confused? Or ashamed that you tried something on an older boy and he turned you down?¡± Tristan had almost reached her but when he heard these words he froze, spinning to also face the man below. Yesleign was not looking directly at him but could sense the shift in his mood, heard it in the tone of his voice. He spat down at her brother, ¡°no Regald she was not confused! I came across him, pinning her to the ground, pawing and biting at her, hitting her as she screamed for help. Had I not been there she might not have made it back here in one piece. And the fact that you¡¯d think so little of your own sister should alarm you.¡± Regald¡¯s face blanched slightly at the accusation. His eyes narrowed at the words which had been slung at him. Tristan¡¯s words annoyed her. She didn¡¯t need him to speak up for her. Her words, her truth should have been enough. Why should it take another man¡¯s verification of her story for her brother to believe her? She didn¡¯t need him to be her savior. Plus, he didn¡¯t know it, but had he not arrived she would have been fully capable of saving herself had she released the darkness begging to escape from deep within her. Elm had now reached the row where she stood and begun to approach, but next to her a white shadow lurked, slinking around the back of her legs, placing himself between Yesleign and her brother. As Elm took another step the wolf growled low. Elm held up his hands in submission. ¡°Sister please, put down the bow, call off the wolf, and we can all sit down and discuss this calmly. I know you¡¯re upset but please.¡± Yesleign realigned the arrow, the darkness within her pulling so fiercely through her veins she thought she might lose control, release all of it. Her bruised wrists ached with each pulsing beat, her heartbeat thummed within her quickly. She let the arrow lose again. This time it went flying past her brother¡¯s right cheek, close enough that she was sure he could feel it. Again it planted squarely in the wood behind him, the sound echoing. When she spoke her voice was a low growl, ¡°if you EVER send anyone after me again, or any of your friends ever try anything like that again, I will aim three inches to the left, squarely between your eyes.¡± For a moment they stared at each other. His jaw was clenched tight in anger. ¡°Daughter!¡± Her father¡¯s voice boomed through the grounds. ¡°Put down the bow now.¡± It was an order, not a request. She looked to the side of the pavilion, past where Elm stood. There stood the king, his blonde hair slicked back, a circlet of gold placed on his head. He looked amused at the spectacle in front of him. Next to the king stood a younger man, probably the most handsome man she had ever seen. He was tall and muscular but in a lean way, he was clearly a noble and not a warrior. He also had blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. A smaller gold circlet on his head told her he must be the High Prince. The Prince was looking at her with an expression she couldn¡¯t quite read. Next to them stood her father. His eyes were aflame with anger. She dropped the bow on the ground. It clattered as it hit the bench below. She let the quiver with the remaining few arrows fall. She made her way down the row of benches towards Tristan. When she got close he held out his hand. ¡°Leign,¡± he almost whispered, like he was pleading with her. She didn¡¯t look at him, didn¡¯t take his hand. She climbed the bench in front of her, jumped down to the row below, and walked out of the pavilion towards the house. No one dared to follow her.