"You're the Saint."
The forest seems to freeze around us, birds falling silent as if even they understand the gravity of what Skara has just declared. My heart hammers against my ribs, each beat a desperate protest against the truth she's somehow uncovered.
"No," I manage through numb lips, the denial automatic and pathetic.
Skara's eyes narrow, her grip tightening around my wrist until I feel bones grinding together. The pain barely registers through the shock flooding my system.
"Tell the truth," she commands, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. Her massive sword still rests casually across her armored shoulders, blood dripping rhythmically onto the forest floor beside us.
The curse pulls the words from me before I can stop them.
"I'm the Saint," I confess, the admission hanging between us like a death sentence.
Skara's face breaks into a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. She stares at me with a predatory intensity that makes my skin crawl, like I'm not a person but a prize she's just claimed.
"The Saint," she repeats, savoring the word as if tasting something exquisite. "In my grasp." Her thumb traces small circles on my wrist where she holds me, the curse keeping me frozen and helpless.
Behind me, I hear Mirelle step closer, her voice tight with barely controlled panic. "Raping the Saint would deeply upset the church, wouldn't it, Skara?" Mirelle says, her voice steadier now, almost diplomatic. "The priests would consider it sacrilege."
I can't help but think how hypocritical Mirelle sounds. The woman who's been using the curse to force intimacy with me for weeks is suddenly concerned about consent? The irony would be laughable if I weren't trapped between two predators arguing over who gets to devour me.
Skara's eyebrows shoot up, genuine surprise flickering across her face. "Rape?" She turns toward Mirelle, her grip on my wrist never loosening. "Is that what you think I'm planning?" She barks out a laugh that echoes through the trees. "Why aren't you two in the Holy Kingdom already? That's where the Saint belongs."
The question hangs in the air like a thundercloud. I feel Mirelle tense behind me.
"We're working on it," Mirelle says, her voice suddenly diplomatic. "Getting to the Holy Kingdom isn't exactly a simple journey. It's several months of travel through dangerous territory."
Skara's attention snaps back to me, her eyes burning with an intensity that makes my blood run cold. A smile spreads across her face, stretching wider and wider until it looks painful, unhinged.
"You're my ticket back," she whispers, her face inches from mine. "My redemption."
"What?" I manage to ask, confusion momentarily overriding my fear.
Her grip tightens on my wrist as she leans closer, her breath hot against my face. "The Holy Order kicked me out after the possession incident. Said I was 'tainted' and 'untrustworthy.'" She spits the words like they're poison. "But if I bring you to them, if I deliver the Saint himself, cured, they'll have to take me back."
The feverish gleam in her eyes intensifies as she speaks, her pupils dilating until her blue irises are nearly swallowed by darkness. Her smile stretches impossibly wider, revealing too many teeth. There's something deeply wrong with her expression, like someone trying to remember how to look human and getting it catastrophically wrong.
I try to pull away instinctively, forgetting that the curse has me locked in place. My heart hammers against my ribs as I stare into the face of true madness.
"The Holy Order won't want you back if you're still possessed," Mirelle says carefully, inching closer to us. "Your eyes, Skara. They're... not right."
Skara's head snaps toward Mirelle with unnatural speed. "I'm NOT possessed anymore!" she roars, spittle flying from her lips. "They PURIFIED me! They just didn't TRUST me!"
Mirelle takes another step forward, her hands raised in a placating gesture. "Look, Skara, we both want the same thing, to get Sam to the Holy Kingdom. We can work together on this."
The change happens so fast I barely register it. One moment, Skara is glaring at Mirelle, the next her armored fist connects with Mirelle's face in a sickening crunch. Mirelle crumples instantly, her body hitting the forest floor with a dull thud, blue hair splayed across the moss like spilled ink.
"Mirelle!" I try to scream, but it comes out more strangled.
Skara releases my wrist just long enough to yank my wooden staff from its harness and hurl it to the ground. My eyes widen in horror as she kicks it away, sending it skittering across the grass. The moment the curse releases me, she scoops me back up and tosses me over her armored shoulder like I weigh nothing at all.
"Did you just kill her?" I gasp, watching Mirelle's motionless form grow smaller as Skara strides away with terrifying purpose. Blood trickles from Mirelle's nose, pooling on the forest floor beneath her face.
"She'll live," Skara says dismissively, adjusting me on her shoulder with a jerk that knocks the wind from my lungs. "Her time with you is done."
"Wait! She's my friend!"
Skara's laugh is sharp and humorless. "I don't give a fuck."
Her pace is relentless as she carries me through the forest, each stride covering ground with inhuman speed. The trees blur around us, and I bounce painfully against her armor with every step. I try to memorize landmarks, anything to help me find my way back to Mirelle, but Skara moves too quickly, changing direction seemingly at random.
"Where are you taking me?" I demand, my voice shaking with a mixture of fear and rage.
The curse keeps me paralyzed against her shoulder, unable to move or fight back. Her armor digs painfully into my stomach with each massive stride.
"Where do you think?" Skara scoffs, her voice vibrating through her armor and into my bones. "The Holy Kingdom, of course. That's where you belong." Find the newest release on novelꜰire.net
Despite my situation, a flicker of hope ignites in my chest. "Will we make it in time for the Hero's summoning?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
Skara adjusts me on her shoulder, her gauntleted hand gripping my thigh with bruising force. "It's your destiny to aid the Hero, Saint. Your entire purpose."
"I know," I say, thinking of Kayla. "But will we make it in time?"
She pauses her relentless pace for a moment, considering. "I'm not sure we'll make it for the actual summoning," she admits, resuming her march through the forest. "But once you're cured, you'll join her party. That's what matters."
I fall silent, processing her words as my body bounces painfully against her armor. Despite the horror of my situation, a treacherous thought takes root in my mind. Maybe this is the fastest way to see my wife again. If Kayla really is the Hero, and I'm certain she must be, then Skara is inadvertently bringing me straight to her.