Renegade

by Erica Stevens

  “We have to help!” she gasped.

  He grabbed hold of her other arm, holding her tight before him as he shook her slightly. “There is nothing we can do Arianna, we have to go! We have to go now!”

  She tried to fight him, but he retained his fierce hold. “We can’t just leave them!”

  His eyes were dark, sad, broken in the moonlight. “There is nothing we can do Aria, it’s too late for them.” Her gaze turned back to the sight below her, she couldn’t abandon them. “It’s how we were captured before Aria; you cannot run heedlessly in again.”

  His words froze her, she couldn’t move as her heart lumbered to pump the blood through her suddenly frigid body. It was how they had been captured before, it had been her fault that they had been taken, and she couldn’t allow that to happen again. Her gaze wandered hopelessly over to William. He stood at the edge of the forest, waiting impatiently for them. The others had already fled into the darkness. If she went down there again, if she tried to interfere again, they would follow her, and they would be caught. And there was nothing that any of them could do to help the people being hunted now.

  There was no way to stop the massacre that was raging below them, no way to silence the screams. There was no one to save them if they were captured again, no one to rescue them as Jack had blown his cover amongst his family. They knew he was a traitor now, and would not welcome him back. They might not even be captured this time; they could just be slaughtered outright.

  Max moved her back, pulling her stiff body away from the sight before them. “Hurry!” William hissed.

  “It will be ok, Aria. It will be ok.” Max wrapped his hand around the back of her head, pulling her close for a brief moment before tugging her toward the woods. They plunged into the darkness, moving swiftly through the dense forest. William led the way, taking a zigzagging route that wound rapidly toward the banquet tree.

  Aria felt numb, hollow. The screams of the tortured followed her, long after they were out of ear shot of them. Aria was panting, breathless by the time they reached the banquet tree. She fell against the large tree, clinging to one of its branches as she gasped for air that she couldn’t quite get. Her legs buckled, she fell to her knees before their childhood tree. There had been so many dreams and plans and hopes that grew from this spot.

  There were none now. Now there was only bleak hopelessness. Now there was only death, and the echoing screams of the innocent. Now there was only hurt and loss and suffering. Yet, beneath all of that there was something else, something new rising up to course through her. For a moment she couldn’t identify the novel emotion through all of the agony and confusion rolling through her. For a moment, she didn’t know what it was that was consuming her. And then, she did.

  It was hatred.

  It was pure and simple hate. She hated this world of cruelty, hated the monsters that had created it. She hated with everything that she had, and was. And she hated the monster that had done this to her, the creature that had stomped all over her heart, making her weaker, making her a broken shell of the person she had once been. And now, well now that shell was filling up again. That shell was angry and twisted and so hate filled that she could barely breathe through its fiery consumption.

  The prince, she hated the prince, she realized.

  There would be no more grieving for him, there would be no more wondering and hurting. What had passed between them was the past. It was over. She would forget it, she would move on, and if their paths ever happened to cross again. She would kill him.

  CHAPTER 3

  “There was a raid.”

  Braith stood silently, thinking over his brother Caleb’s words as the tailor moved slowly around him. The tailor had stopped mumbling to himself, and although he continued to work, Braith knew he was listening intently to the conversation. “And?” Braith asked quietly.

  “She was not amongst the captured.”

  “The dead?”

  “No. The soldiers know that she is to be brought back here if caught. That they all are.”

  Braith shrugged, disliking the feel of the coat he wore. “No matter the orders, there are always casualties in war,” he murmured. He expected Caleb to leave after delivering the news. Even twisted, brutal Caleb didn’t like to be around him for any length of time anymore. No one did. Braith’s temper had become volatile, his fury and paths of destruction were well known, and feared, amongst the residents of the palace.

  A lot of blood had stained his hands over the past two months; he had consumed more blood in the past eight weeks than he had in the past eight years. But it was not enough, it would never be enough to bury the hatred and anger festering inside of him. His murderous rampage had died down, but only because he had calmed enough to realize that the deaths of innocent people did not ease his rage as much as he had hoped it would. Now he just consumed mass quantities of blood, but most of the time the people survived his attack now.

  “Is there more?” he demanded impatiently of his brother.

  Caleb cleared his throat. “She was not amongst the dead, and she was not amongst the captured, but she was there.”

  Braith’s head came slowly up, he turned toward his brother. He could not see Caleb, darkness ruled Braith’s life once more, but he could smell the faint hint of fear and excitement that rolled off of him. Braith stood for a long moment, stunned by Caleb’s words. There had been no sign of her since she’d left here, and though he could have found her at a moment’s notice, he refused to lower himself by going after her, by making her think that he wanted her back, because he didn’t. She had betrayed him after all; he wanted nothing more to do with the traitorous bitch.

  And yet he felt a moment of fear rock through him. He wanted her punished for her treachery, wanted her to suffer for what she had done to him, but did he truly want her dead? Did he truly want her back here where she would be tortured and punished for her treachery? He had believed so, he had wanted it to be so, but now that his troops had stumbled across her, now that they were hot on her heels, he wondered what he would do if she was recaptured. She would be tormented, beaten, and eventually killed. She would be punished for being a traitor, and it would be a brutal punishment.

  If he really wanted her back, then he would have gone after her himself and brought her back here by now. But even though he hated her, even though she had sliced him deeply, he had to admit that he did not want her dead. He wanted her to hurt as badly as he had upon first discovering that she was gone, but he did not want her dead.

  In all the time since she had been gone, it was the first time that he actually realized this fact. He wanted her blood, he wanted to taste her and see her again, and he wanted to make her pay for what she had done. But he wanted to be the one that made her pay, not his brother or his father, and he did not want her dead. His jaw clenched tight as he grasped the lapels on the jacket he wore. The hated jacket. The tailor made a soft sound of protest as he stepped down from the dais he had been standing upon, ignoring the annoying gnat of a man.

  “How do you know she was there?” he growled.

  “One of our people spotted her; it was why they went in when they did. They were hoping to capture her.”

  “Went in?”

  “They were in a group of caves, apparently well engineered caves with a series of tunnels and gates throughout them. The caves were discovered last week, but they were going to wait until they knew where all of the exits were before raiding them. Our guards got a little overexcited when they spotted her though, and jumped the gun early.”

  Caves, she was living in caves. She had spoken about her woods, and her forest, with such reverence that he had assumed she’d returned to the trees and plants that had brought a small smile to her face when she spoke of them. That she had returned to the world of freedom and wilderness that she had so openly craved. Instead, she was living in caves, hidden beneath the earth, trapped beneath mounds of dirt and rock. It made no sense to him, but what made even less sense was th
e fact that he even remotely cared where she was living. What she was doing.

  He had moved on with his life, he now owned several blood slaves, and though none of them were her, he found he did enjoy them. They made him forget for a little bit, they made it not so hard to get through the days. And unlike Arianna, these ones were more pliant and less defiant. He was getting married in a matter of months, granted he couldn’t stand the woman, but he need only have a male heir with her and then he wouldn’t have to have anything to do with her again. It was just a matter of time, and his wife’s family would help to strengthen his own. He had not planned on marrying the woman, no matter what his father wanted, but he was resigned to it now. He had never intended to do his duty as the eldest son. Not until Arianna had abandoned him, not until she had fled here with his brother and another blood slave.

  After that, all he had wanted was vengeance, and to forget. All he had wanted was not to think about her soft smile, bright eyes, delightful innocence, and sweet blood. And there were even times during the day when he almost did forget, brief moments when he found a little reprieve from his memories in the copious amounts of blood. Those moments never lasted long, and there was a part of him that hated himself for what he was doing, but he knew that with enough blood, and enough time, he would eventually forget her. And eventually Arianna would die, she was human, and she lived a dangerous life. It was only a matter of time before it happened, he would know when that time came, and he had thought that he would feel relief when it did.

  He wasn’t so sure now.

  “Was there any sign of Jericho?”

  Resentment boiled through him at the thought of his younger brother, the sibling he had trusted and liked the most, and the one that had betrayed him the deepest. The one that had taken Aria from him. Though he doubted she had put up any fight. In fact, he was fairly certain that despite her vows of love, and her promises to never leave him, that she had probably run eagerly through the tunnel once it had been revealed to her. She was a fickle bitch after all, or at least that’s what he had come to believe. Why else would she vow to love him forever and then leave him the very next morning?

  And Jericho had become enemy number one now. Braith may not personally destroy Arianna, but he thought he would have a try at Jericho.

  “They did not see Jericho there, but I’m sure he was nearby. He betrayed us for her after all; she must mean something to him.”

  Jericho had said that he was here to rescue Arianna because her father was the leader of the rebels. Jericho had come here for her because he was one of the few that could get her free. That was what he had said, but Braith had a hard time believing anything that had come out of his brother’s mouth during those days. His brother had also said that he would not do anything without consulting Braith first, and then he had disappeared the next day.

  In fact, he thought that Caleb was right, that Jericho did feel more for Arianna than just friendship and loyalty, why else would he have taken her like he had? Braith had never revealed to Caleb, or his father, Arianna’s true history. There was no point in doing so, she was gone now, and there was no way to use her against her family anymore.

  “There was a different man with her.”

  Braith’s eyebrows lifted sharply, his mouth curved in a sneer. “Was there,” he said sardonically. How many damn men that the little bitch have? He wondered angrily. First the blood slave, Max, then his brother, and now some other mystery man. His fingers twitched into a fist, he struggled against the fierce surge of bloodlust that tore through him. He needed to bury his fangs in something in order to try and forget the anger raging through him.

  “Yes. They have no idea who it was, but it wasn’t Jericho and it wasn’t the other blood slave.”

  A muscle in his cheek began to twitch in aggravation; he felt his temper beginning to unravel. He had thought Arianna a sweet innocent who had brought light back into his life. He was beginning to learn that nothing could be farther from the truth.

  “I see.” But he didn’t see, and he wondered why he didn’t go after her and drag her back here kicking and screaming. Why he didn’t go after her, destroy her family, smash her rebel cause, and hunt down his treacherous brother and make them all pay. Braith paced away, shooing away the tailor that tried to follow him. He tore the jacket off, suddenly feeling claustrophobic within the material. The tailor made a strangled sound of despair as the material ripped, but Braith did not care. “Have they brought any blood slaves back?” he demanded.

  “Yes, they are leading them onto the stage now.”

  Braith nodded, he grabbed his cane and hefted it into his hands. Keegan, his ever faithful wolf and seeing dog, yawned before rising to his feet. His claws clicked against the wood floor as he walked beside Braith. “Let’s go.”

  Caleb hesitated for only moment before falling into step beside him. Braith was used to the darkness, used to navigating it; he needed no assistance as he wound his way through the hallways of the palace. The cane clicked off the floor, but it was Keegan that always alerted him to any new obstacle that may have been placed in the way. With a subtle pressure against his leg Keegan could steer him easily one way or the other.

  Braith made his way swiftly down to the stage that held the future blood slaves. He looked it slowly over, but he saw nothing. There was no glowing light upon it, no redheaded girl staring in horror and fear at the crowd. He had been shocked into immobility at the sight of Arianna, unable to move, unable to believe that he could actually see anything again, let alone the frightened, dirty, bedraggled girl that was everything he had ever disliked about a woman.

  She was not round, she was not voluptuous, she smelled far from decent, and yet he had seen her. She was the first thing he had witnesses in over a hundred years. And slowly, over the time he spent with her, she had become infinitely beautiful to him. Yes she was defiant, harsh, far too skinny for his taste, and not beautiful in the classical sense but she was also strong, sweet, innocent, and unbelievably wonderful. He had come to care greatly for her, until he had realized that it was all a lie. That she was in fact none of those things, and was instead a cunning, manipulative shrew.

  He looked over the stage once more, but still nothing popped out at him. No other women appeared to him, no one else gave him sight again. “Is there anyone up there that could be her family?”

  Caleb was silent for a few moments. “Not that I can see. I’m going to grab a few of them, I’m sure they’ll eventually tell us more. And if they don’t,” Braith heard Caleb’s shrug of indifference. “I will enjoy trying to make them talk.”

  Braith stood silently, listening as blood slaves were brought forth and auctioned off. Caleb claimed four of them. Braith briefly contemplated taking a few more of his own, but decided against it. He had enough for now.

  He turned away, if there was anything to learn, Caleb would do it. He made his way back toward the palace, wondering where Jericho had been during the raid, wondering who it was that she had been with. Another man? Just how many damn men did she have in her life? He tried to tell himself that he didn’t care about the answer to that question, but he knew he did. He could not deny it. The bitch had betrayed him, and now she was running free, wrapping even more men around her devious finger in order to get them to do whatever she wanted them to. He hated her for making him one of those men.

  He made his way easily through the crowd, his mind churning; anger simmered hotly inside of him. He needed a new plan. He couldn’t simply sit here and allow her to get away with everything that she had done. He could not allow his brother, the youngest, to be sitting amongst the humans, laughing about how he had managed to deceive his eldest brother, and his family.

  Braith had made the decision to let them be, he was now beginning to rethink that decision. They should pay for what they had done, and he could make them do that. They may be able to avoid his men, but they could not avoid him.

  Especially not her.

  ***

  Rain d
ripped softly onto the makeshift tent. The piece of canvas offered little protection against the elements, but Aria didn’t care. The air smelled wonderful, it was freeing after all the time in the caves. It helped to ease the sense of claustrophobia that still clung to her, but it did little to wash away the lingering screams that had woken her every night for the past week.

  She could retreat to the shelter and warmth of the caves, but she knew that she would not. She couldn’t bring herself to go back in them now, if ever. So instead she sat in silence, listening to the plop of the water upon the tent. Max and William sat beside her; they had been her constant companions since the night of the raid. William would wander out once in awhile to gather food but Max would not leave her be, and she wasn’t sure that she wanted him too. He moved closer to her, dropping a blanket around her shoulders. His hands lingered upon her for a moment, and she didn’t shrug him away. She found she needed his comfort, his loyalty, his unwavering love right now.

  She leaned into him, resting against his legs. “You need to get some sleep,” he told her.

  “I will.” They both knew she lied, but he didn’t argue with her.

  When she shivered, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest and cradling her gently. Though her heart did not thump with excitement, as it had when the prince touched her, his strong embrace was wonderful. She felt safe in his arms, cherished. No, he did not affect her as the prince had, but he was a good man, he loved her, and he would do anything for her.

  Maybe one day she would love him too, even if that day couldn’t be now. Now she just wanted to feel something other than shock and anger and despair. Now she just wanted to sit with her friend, content in his arms as she listened to the rain fall. “It smells good,” she said softly.