Tears streamed down her face, hot and unrelenting, and Aria furiously wiped at them with trembling hands, only for more to follow, carving fresh, salty tracks down her cheeks.
Her body quaked, the tremors wracking through her frame not born from a single emotion, but a storm of grief, rage, and helplessness.
She stood frozen, forced to watch Zyren calmly issue the command for her brother and father's bodies to be burned. The flames that would consume them were already rising in the distance, smoke coiling into the sky like the fingers of death itself.
Every muscle in her body screamed for her to lunge at him again—to claw, to bite, to rip something from him the way he had ripped everything from her. But she knew. She knew how pointless that would be.
He was powerful. Too powerful. The fact that everyone addressed him as "King" only confirmed that he was something far more dangerous than the guard she'd watched move and vanish in front of her eyes.
Still, her brown eyes remained locked on his back, unwavering, unblinking, burning with hatred. Her vow was silent but fierce: she would kill him. No matter what it cost. Even if it was the last thing she ever did—even if it meant her pathetic life was the price.
Minutes dragged by in heavy silence before the riders began to mount their horses. The crunch of boots on dirt and the creak of saddles filled the air, but Aria didn't move. She remained rooted, a statue carved of fury and sorrow, glaring at any man who had drifted near.
The hunger in the eyes of some of the guards was unmistakable—raw, predatory. But their fear of Zyren was even more obvious. Not one of them dared to touch her. Not one stepped closer.
The village behind them still crackled with fire and destruction when Zyren's voice, deep and chilling, rang out across the scene as he lifted himself onto his massive black horse with silver strands woven into its mane.
"Stay," he commanded two of the guards. "Make sure it burns to the ground."
His voice was smooth but merciless, carrying the finality of a sealed fate.
Then he turned and gestured toward her, beckoning with a casual wave of his hand, as though calling for a pet to heel.
"Come," he said.
She didn't budge.
Her feet might as well have grown roots. Tears clung to her lashes, and her eyes were red and swollen from the relentless flood she hadn't yet managed to stop. She wanted vengeance—wanted it so badly it made her bones ache—but her heart… her heart was shattered. So broken she could barely breathe. And part of her wanted nothing more than to take Zyren straight to the depths of hell with her.
Her insides twisted further as she caught the slow, amused smile that curled his lips when she refused to obey. His eyes were the deep crimson of blood, and once—once—she had thought that face was handsome. Now all she wanted was to rake her nails across it until there was nothing left but ruin.
"COME HERE!," he ordered again, voice still laced with that insufferable patience. Her eyes locked on his with defiance. She wouldn't move. She wouldn't give him anything. Had he not already taken enough? Her family… her freedom… and now he declared he would make her his pet?
Her silence was deafening. A wordless scream: I would rather bite off my own tongue than let you touch me again.
Which was why she flinched in pure shock the moment his horse surged forward.
Before she could react, a powerful arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her effortlessly as if she weighed nothing at all. She kicked and thrashed, but her struggles were futile against the steel grip that hauled her onto the horse and set her in front of him.
Her breath caught in her throat as she realized her skirt had ridden up far past modesty, the fabric bunched around her thighs. Shame and fury warred within her as she tried to slide off the horse, only to freeze when his voice brushed her ear like ice.
"Did you know there are things far worse than death?" he murmured.
His words slithered down her spine, cold and venomous, paralyzing her.
His hands held the reins in such a way that her body was boxed in, caged. She couldn't move without brushing against him, and the idea of touching him—made her stomach turn in disgust.
"Breaking your legs would be as easy as snapping a twig," he added softly, a cruel smile lacing his tone.
"Better still, it would ensure you stayed on the horse."
Every part of her tensed. The terror that bloomed inside her now was a colder thing—more calculating. More real. If she'd once thought she could kill the monster behind her, hearing him speak made her understand: he wasn't just a monster. He was something far worse.
She bit down on her lower lip, refusing to speak. The horse moved beneath them, the rhythmic gait jostling her body as the wind caught her hair. Her skirts remained disheveled and would remain so until she got down from the high horse--the exposure of her bare ankles all the way to her knee made her feel sick.
Yet, It was the realization that his hands had been inside her that made her want to scream.
Tears spilled again. Silent, endless but she didn't sob. Didn't even make a sound. Only wiped at her cheeks again and again with the back of her sleeve, refusing to break in front of him.
Her grip tightened on the saddle as she fought not to fall. She didn't know which would be worse—the pain of hitting the ground, or the punishment he might inflict if she dared to make the journey any worse than it already was.
He's a monster. A fucking monster. she thought viciously, clenching her teeth so hard against her lip that the skin split and blood welled. She didn't even realize what she'd done until a strong hand gripped her jaw and yanked her head to the side.
"Humans bleed so easily," he said, voice laced with dark curiosity. "It makes me wonder…"
She trembled beneath his touch and tried to hide it. Her gaze flicked just far enough to catch the gleam of his fangs before she forced herself to look away.
She knew the stories—every child in the villages did. Tales of vampires who drank their fill, leaving nothing but dry husks in their wake. And though Zyren's face was unreadable, the hunger in his eyes was unmistakable.
Her fists clenched in her lap, knuckles bone-white as rage swelled again inside her.
Never—never in her life—had she wanted to hurt someone this badly.
And yet he laughed.
A low, amused chuckle rumbled behind her, and she had no idea why until his arm tightened around her waist. She barely had time to react before his legs pressed into the horse's sides and the beast took off in a powerful gallop.
Wind whipped her hair around her face, her eyes squeezing shut against the speed. She couldn't even keep her balance on her own—only his iron hold kept her from tumbling off the saddle.
'Why the-'
Then it hit her.
The sky. It was lightening and morning was coming.
They were about twenty riders in total, all of them moving swiftly. All of them vampires.
A tiny, fleeting smile tugged at the corner of Aria's mouth. A bitter thing, almost unnoticeable. She pressed her hands together tightly, folding her fingers in desperate prayer.
God of Light, she whispered inside her mind, Creator of all that breathes, hear me now.
"May the sun rise faster… and burn them all to crisps."
Her eyes remained shut tight as the horse thundered beneath her and Zyren's arm remained clamped around her waist, the beast's gallop only growing faster.