by Allison West
He looked up, meeting her stare. "Where's the fun in that?" he asked with a toothless smile. His eyes were dark, and his heart had blackened. Ophelia didn't have to be a creature of the undead world to know this man's soul had been tainted. He put a hand to his clacking necklace. Were those bones around his neck?
He turned the lock and swung the door open, reaching into the cage. The man grabbed Ophelia's arm, dragging her out, his fingers leaving bruises. Still shackled in chains, Ophelia stumbled forward, her arms and entire body sore from the metal prison. "She shall be hanged, drawn, and quartered!"
"No! I've done nothing wrong." Ophelia tried to plead for her life. She locked eyes on Mara. Her younger sister's tears glistened a path down her cheek. "Go! Get out of here!" Ophelia could see Mara had no control of her people. Her reign as queen might surely be over as quickly as it began.
The guards hadn't reemerged, and no one fought alongside the queen. "Let her go." Mara gritted her teeth and her hands balled into fists. "You will let my sister go!"
"Grab her!" one of the elderly invaders spat. "If she wants to be with her sister, I say we let her have it."
Two more dirty assailants, their clothes torn and smelling of sweat, grabbed Mara by each arm. Ophelia recognized them both as merchants in Casmerelda. Had Mara's men turned on her?
The people watched in horror, gasping and covering their mouths in shock. Some turned away. Others covered their children's eyes and disappeared from the crowd. "I demand to speak to your leader!" Mara pulled at the men, trying to break free.
Aurora stepped out from behind a building, carrying the Orb, a queenly symbol of power within Casmerelda and the world around them. "We shall forgive you, Queen Mara, if you agree to have Ophelia Dacre executed for treason and marry Prince Thomas of Clove."
"Aurora?" Mara asked, surprised.
"We, Clove, want the kingdom of Casmerelda," Aurora said proudly. Was she a pawn in the traitors' game, or had she created this mess? How far back had the treachery been planned? Ophelia remembered Aurora spending the summer with Mara before she'd been murdered.
"Aurora, you had no intention of sending that letter to Prince Astin, did you? Was it even given to a courier?" Mara asked. "I trusted you so that I could marry the prince, provide food to my people, and protect my kingdom!"
"Marry him? There'd be no heir if you remained in power, seeing as how you like the flesh of a woman," Aurora spat, outing the queen.
An elderly invader leaned in, his raunchy breath against Mara's ear. "Seems it's easier for us to conquer the kingdom than we originally thought. Funny how a miracle can be deemed a curse."
Mara pulled her face back and sneered. "You are nothing more than a coward! All of you!" She locked eyes on Aurora, disgusted. "I trusted you. I loved you!"
"Seems you shouldn't have," Aurora said and grinned, disappearing into the crowd.
The elderly invader gestured to the thinning crowd mixed with villagers and infiltrators from Clove. "Oh. Too bad. Seems they're not interested in a party unless it involves food. Oh that's right!" He snapped his fingers and grinned. "The extra rations you've been providing have been going to Clove, while your people have been starving. Should have married our prince and maybe you'd still have your kingdom."
"What have you done?" Unable to break free, Mara turned her head back. There were no guardsmen there at all. The guardsman had abandoned their queen and the throne.
"Soon, we'll be taking your crown, then your castle," the man said. "We wanted to be allies. Your father refused to trade with Clove, and then you rejected our prince's hand in marriage."
"Seeing as how you're murderers and thieves, I think we chose right." Mara pushed at the men who restrained her, keeping them on their toes.
"Do none of you value your lives? No one has died yet. Let Ophelia and me go. I shall let you live," Mara said.
"Mara, don't bother," Ophelia said. She knew it would be no use. These men had torched a house full of people to capture her. They had infiltrated the kingdom and were bent on taking over the land. The only way Mara and Ophelia would survive had nothing to do with negotiation.
Although Ophelia's hands were shackled, her captors hadn't thought to tie her down. She could have escaped, though she doubted she'd go far. Metal chains would be difficult to remove, and there was no thought of leaving Mara behind.
Ophelia carefully took a few steps closer, making her movements subtle as she approached the men holding Mara captive. They'd yet to chain or bind Mara's hands with rope.
"Almost ready!" another captor shouted as he prepared the horses that had pulled Ophelia's cage.
"So am I," Ophelia said and nodded once at Mara as a silent signal. With the guard's attention on the horses, Ophelia snuck up and threw her metal bound arms around the man's throat, slicing the shackles into his skin, making it impossible for him to breathe.
Mara stomped on the other guard's foot and then went for his crotch, watching him double over in pain. She dug into his boot and removed his dagger, holding it up to his throat as he bent over gasping for air. "I ought to slice you and deliver you to the rodents. Though, that would be too generous of a death for you imbeciles."
The guard Ophelia'd choked fell to the pavers, unconscious. Shaking, she didn't know whether she'd killed him or not.
"You will let the queen and her sister go!" Violetta walked forward carrying a dagger in each hand.
Jasper followed with a blade in each, and behind him, stood Wynter and a clan of dark angels Ophelia recognized. Hope filled her heart, as did agony. Why were they here?
The clash of metal against metal pierced the silence in the air. Jasper and Violetta stood side by side as they fought off the invaders.
Ophelia's still-shackled hands burned after strangling a man who would have killed her sister. She needed to remove the metal digging into her wrists, but she didn't have the key and couldn't go in search of it. No one had reaped his body, so Ophelia suspected he hadn't died. At least not yet.
Her eyes shot up at the clan of dark angels dressed in black coats, hiding their wings, as they stormed forward row by row. Ophelia realized there were only a few faces she recognized. Had they contacted other undead for reinforcements? Hundreds lined the way, daggers drawn, not a hint of fear on their faces. It didn't seem like a fair fight. The undead against a human army who would most certainly die. Right now, she didn't care about fairness. Nothing that had happened to her over the last twelve hours had been right or just.
In the second row, her eyes met Wynter's as the Clove band rushed the dark angels. Ophelia felt her stomach drop. Wynter might be immortal, but she didn't want anything terrible to happen to him. If he lost an eye or an arm, would it be forever?
Wynter raised his sword in defense, fighting off one man and then another. Sweat covered his brow as he inched forward with the band of dark angels alongside of him.
Mara bent down and dug into the unconscious man's pants pockets.
"What are you doing?" Ophelia asked her sister.
"Trying to get you out of those shackles." Mara shook her head. "He doesn't have the key."
"Try his boot," Ophelia said. He'd kept the dagger in his boot; perhaps the key would be there as well.
Making a face, Mara untied the fellow's boots and pulled one and then the second off. "Smells rotten." She dug her hand into the boot. "Nothing." Her eyes met the second boot, examining it closer. "He slid the key through the laces!" She removed one side of the lace through the eyelet and worked quickly to unlace the boot and retrieve the key. "This better be the right key." Mara slid it into the lock on Ophelia's shackles and turned it until it clicked.
The iron cuffs unlocked and Ophelia slid out of them, letting the hard metal fall to the ground with a thud.
"We need to get you out of here," Ophelia said, gripping her sister's hand.
Mara glanced back toward the castle, barely visible in the distance. "Only if you're coming with me." Her brow furrowed, disturbed. "Where are the r
est of my guards? Why haven't they done anything to protect us?"
"Leila!" Wynter ran toward her, the dark angels still battling the enemy, neither looking defeated.
"Watch out!" Mara shouted. An invader chased after Wynter, blade in hand, striking down toward the dark angel.
Wynter spun around on his heels, raising his sword and shoving it into his assailant. Wynter pulled the blade out as the man fell onto his knees and then slammed face-first into the mud on the ground.
Digging in his pocket, Wynter pulled out the small vial of glowing blue liquid. "Drink this!" He tossed the vial to Ophelia.
Ophelia caught the small bottle, half-filled, and unscrewed the lid. "Why?" She trusted Wynter, but that didn't douse the flames of curiosity building within her. If it would protect her, she'd give it to Mara. The queen deserved protection.
"Quit being stubborn and drink it. Mara, give me a hand!" Wynter shouted as he lifted his weapon and fought off another attacker.
"I've got your back," said a blonde-haired dark angel who looked a few years older than Wynter. She slammed her sword into a man's stomach, pulling it out forcefully as she defended them against a second man with the yellow and red Clove insignia. The enemy didn't seem to back down.
Holding the small glass container between her fingers, Ophelia lifted it to her face, smelling the glowing liquid. Mara reached out to her sister, pushing her hand over Ophelia's, not letting her palm back down. Mara forced the liquid into Ophelia's mouth.
Ophelia felt the contents burn her lips, tongue, and throat. She swallowed every drop. Her cheeks flushed and eyes dilated. "What's happening to me?" she asked, feeling her insides burning in agony. She bent forward, eyes shut, vulnerable.
Mara squatted down, resting a hand on her sister's back. "Wynter, what did you do?" Her voice hitched, sounding afraid.
"Get her out of here!" Wynter said and pointed toward a horse. The lowlife who had been preparing it for Ophelia's execution had disappeared. He'd either been frightened off or killed. "Ride south, hard and fast. I'll catch up. She needs to get away, now!" Wynter spun around on his feet and clashed his sword against another invader.
"Always knew you'd make a great fighter, especially the way you sass Juliana," the blonde dark angel said.
"Margery, not now!" Wynter laughed under his breath.
Mara and Ophelia climbed atop one horse, heading away from the fighting and chaos. A sea of shooting stars peppered the sky in a cloud of purple above the trees as they rode south toward Vera. Ophelia could barely find the energy to open her eyes and see the beautiful sight.
Mara gripped the reins of the horse as Leila held on from behind. Leila bit her bottom lip hard, drawing blood. The pain in her back tore at her from the inside out, making her stomach clench. What had she drunk?
"How much farther?" Mara asked, leading them through the forest toward Vera.
Ophelia's senses felt heightened. The breeze seemed incredibly loud. Did the pain make everything else more unbearable, or had something physically happened to her that she didn't recognize? "You don't hear that?" Ophelia asked. A child's laughter sang in the distance just up ahead.
Mara continued on the path for a few more minutes before slowing down. A woman leaned against a tree, a horse's reins tied around the trunk.
"Mara Dacre?" the woman asked.
Ophelia stumbled off the horse, collapsing onto the ground. Mara jumped down and swiftly secured the reins so as not to lose the horse and then checked on her older sister. "Are you okay?" Mara gasped. "What are those?" She reached out to touch the magnificent black wings attached to Ophelia's back.
Ophelia whimpered, pulling back in sheer agony. "Don't!" She struggled to stand, the newly added weight throwing her balance off as she moved the wings outstretched across her back.
The woman walked over and rested a hand on Mara's shoulder. "I'm sure she'll be okay."
"Okay?" Mara's eyes widened. "Have you seen this before? She's turning into a bird!"
"Not a bird," a small voice chirped from the trees. Luna jumped down, letting her white wings glide her the last few inches to the ground. The young child smiled and walked over, patting gently between Ophelia's shoulder blades, calming her down. "You look different, but you still have that same halo, Leila," the child said.
"You remember me?" Ophelia asked, confused that Luna knew who she was, now that she'd changed.
"Luna." The woman's eyes narrowed as she scolded the child.
"Leila is my friend, Coralie. She's scared, but she doesn't have to be," Luna said. "I tried to warn her that she'd change. That I could see her future."
Coralie hissed under her breath. "Enough, child! These are things we should not discuss in the company of others."
The attackers were swift and silent, coming down the trail with no warning. Four men rushed at Mara, two at Ophelia, and another at Coralie. Luna slid behind the trunk of the nearest tree and once out of sight, climbed as quickly as she could to safety.
Ophelia used the pain building within her as a weapon. The adrenaline that pumped through her veins gave her the strength and stamina to fight back with speed and agility. One punch to an assailant and he stumbled back. Covering his face with his hand, he tried to dam the blood that poured out. The second enemy circled her in a warrior's dance, as their battle had just begun. Ophelia was careful to keep out of his reach as he sliced the air. Her movements weren't easy or smooth with her wings contracting one minute and ripping wide open the next as she lunged at the man.
"What do you want?" She kicked his feet out from under him, the sword falling to his side. He scrambled for it, but Ophelia rested a foot atop the blade, refusing him its use. "Leave now and I will spare your life."
He smiled with dark eyes and a blackened heart. "My life is nothing if your sister is on the throne." He reached toward his belt. Ophelia removed her boot from the sword and bent down to lift the weapon.
The fighter lunged at Ophelia, tackling her onto the ground, a small knife at the side of her throat as he pinned her with his weight. The man was stronger and larger, and she couldn't break free.
"You're not human." His top lip curved into a sneer. "You should have burned in that house fire."
Ophelia lifted her knee, kicking herself toward freedom. The man screamed in horror, letting go of Ophelia and rolling off her. Taking the advantage, she lifted the sword and held it up to his neck. "I should kill you."
Four men rushed at Mara. Standing in the forest, she had nowhere to run. She was knocked down to the ground. She'd been a princess and then a queen. Mara's defense and combat training had been years ago, when she was very much a child. Could she remember the lessons to save herself?
Her legs kicked and her arms flailed trying to fight them off. Maybe if only one had attacked, she would have had a chance, but four was overwhelming. Ophelia doubted she had time to think, only react to their punches and treachery. Two men held her arms, preventing her from fighting back with her fists. She kicked and kneed the men at every opportunity, though she didn't get enough blows in to make much of a difference.
"I am your queen!" The words were lost in the commotion, and the men had made up their minds about their loyalties long ago.
"Our queen would not starve women and children," a man from Casmerelda said as he pulled a sword from its sheath. He'd been a guard assigned to the castle grounds.
"I've given what rations I could," Mara said, trying to plead for her life.
Ophelia knew her sister had done the best she could, given the circumstances. She hadn't been prepared to be queen, losing her family, without any guidance or preparation for her responsibilities.
"Lies!" Another man punched Mara in the stomach. She doubled over in pain, gasping for breath. Two assailants at her side kept her hands pinned, keeping her from retaliating as they beat her over and over.
The rapid pounding of horses' hooves over fresh earth alerted everyone that others were coming. Would it be the mysterious army who had joine
d Violetta, Jasper, and Wynter, or additional invaders and villagers disgruntled looking for the queen's head?
Ophelia wasn't proud she'd been forced to kill both the men who had attacked her. A horrifying cry erupted from Mara's throat. Ophelia turned and dashed toward the assailants, the sword drawn that she'd won during battle.
Blood seeped through Mara's gown. The young queen's eyes glazed over before she took her final breath.
Ophelia screamed as dark angels began pouring into the forest. Her insides ached not just from the transformation but also of sorrow and loss.
Wynter rushed at one of the invaders, tackling him to the ground before he had time to attack Ophelia. Two other men came at Ophelia, but the fourth who had been part of the assassination of the queen ran off into the forest. Ophelia could hear the dark angels on horses chasing after him.
With the sword in hand, she fought two of her sister's killers, cutting one in the arm and the other in the leg as Ophelia battled back and forth between both men. Wanting them dead wasn't enough. She pushed onward, forcing one against a tree, the sword at his throat. "You murdered my sister!" Ophelia had failed to witness which reaper had taken her sister's soul.
The brutes who had chased Ophelia and Mara were dead. Ophelia bent down over her sister's cold body, pulling her lifeless form into her arms. Ophelia's wings stretched outward, her emotions showing in every possible way. "Please, you have to come back." Tears spilled from her eyes.
Wynter walked over, resting a hand on Ophelia's back, careful of her wings.
"What did you do to me?" Ophelia asked, glancing up at Wynter. She knew what he had done. He'd given her a vial of something that had turned her into a dark angel. What she didn't comprehend was why.
"You would have died today," Wynter said. "I couldn't watch that happen. I saw it in a vision, and I knew what I had to do. It made me sick, watching you die and having to choose this life for you. I'm sorry."
Ophelia didn't say anything. Her heart ached. Her insides still burned from the transformation. Her sister had died, and unless she'd become a grim reaper, there would be no chance of ever seeing her again.