Luna of the Beastly Lycan King

Chapter 3. Heartbeat

DANIKA

It was the dead of night when I stood over Eirin's grave.

The other slaves had solemnly assisted me in putting her battered body to rest. A shallow hole was dug in the corner of the farm, under a twisted, old tree with massive roots. We had no other choice. Should we bury her in any other part of the farm, the swine would dig her back up.

She was wrapped in a tattered cloth and covered with sand. There was nothing to mark her grave but the slight elevation of the sand. It was a terrible way to spend the rest of eternity.

“Goodbye, Eirin.” I let out a broken whisper, wiping the last tear from my cheek.

I turned away from the grave and made my way to the fence. It was swamped with vines in old and new tangles, forming a thicket that added another layer to the enclosure. But what the guards did not realize, was that this tangle of vines hit a collapsed part of the fence, from both sides. I had discovered it recently while wandering around Eirin's grave like a ghost.

It was ticket out of here.

I was ready to die, after all, there was nothing left to live for. Nothing good about this miserable existence called my life. But I refused to die in here. In captivity, wasting away each day under the whips and blows of vile, ruthless guards. It was the only thing I could do for Eirin.

To make sure I did not die at the hands of those guards. I would die peacefully. On my own, free.

I brushed the thorns and leaves to the side, burrowing my way through. It tore at my skin, my sack dress, drawing blood along my arms, but I was dead to the pain.

When I got to the other side, I paused for a moment. It was the first time seeing anything outside the farm's walls for a long time. The land sloped down into a terrain of hills and trees, with the barren stretch of wilderness far out on the horizon.

That was my destination.

If I even made it past the hills, I was sure to find somewhere quiet far out in the wilderness, to make my final resting place. Spurred on by that prospect, my bare feet moved in front of the other, dragging in the dirt, as I was too starved to even pick up my own weight.

It was high noon, the harsh sun beating down on my skin, when I reached the valley of Cynthros. Here, the biggest market in Cynthros lay. Spices tinged the air, dust kicked up the cobblestones as every heavily loaded caravan rumbled past, haggling merchants cursed loudly over goods and prices. The noise was nothing but a backdrop in my ears, all I could focus on was my own breathing.

In. Out. In. Out.

If I missed a second, my lungs would collapse on themselves, my mind would dissolve into nothing but numbed chaos.

“Get out of the way, filth!” A meaty hand shoved me so hard, I stumbled into someone's stall.

Oranges and apples scattered in all directions, as I rolled off the stall to the floor. My knees and elbows harshly scraped the cobblestones, etching new bleeding bruises into my battered skin. I had no strength to even wince or cry out because I barely felt the pain. I was completely empty.

A train of donkeys trampled past the spot I had been standing on, nearly crushing my feet under their strong hoofs. Behind me, the owner of the stall was hurling profanities and curses at me. He scrambled to gather his fruits, intermittently spitting a globule of saliva in my direction.

I let the slimey fluid hand off my dress as I sprawled there, breathing in the dust.

In. Out.

….in. out.

I wanted it to stop. So I stopped counting my breaths, waiting for my lungs to slow down, suffocate me, and put me out of this misery. But it did not.

So I lay there, under the sweltering sun and unforgiving dust, different feet crossing over my body and trampling over my hair and limbs. I felt nothing.

The sun had moved from its position to a spot further down the sky.

It looked so serene, removed from the chaos down here. I wondered what it would feel like to be up there, floating above everything else, with so much space in the sky. No worries. No feelings. Nothing. I wanted to be like that. Soon, I consoled myself. Soon, I would be blissfully unaware of everything else, once I float out of this existence.

It felt like I spent an eternity, or perhaps a second on the market floor. However, it was enough time for the effects of starvation to temporarily fade away, and restore faux strength to my limbs. Slowly, I scrambled back to my feet. Dust gathered at my feet, and the crowd of people made a wide berth around me as they walked past.

“A lunatic.”

“She is deranged.”

“Poor thing, she's lost her mind.” A buxom woman whispered to her companion as they hurried past. “Someone could out a knife to her heart, give her a quick end.”

I speared them both a murderous glare through the greasy strands of my red hair. They gasped softly, quickly averting their stares. I would not die at the hands of anyone. For Eirin, I would not. I would die on my own terms, in peace and quiet, out in the wilderness.

I repeated those thoughts over and over again, with each footfall. With each breath.

The sky was a canvas of red and oranges, as the sun inched closer to the horizon.

Sunset.

The woods loomed a few feet ahead, and I staggered towards it. A prickly sensation had taken over my feet. Bruises and cuts from walking around barefoot all day had formed, and the pain had eventually given way to uncomfortable numbness. My knees were weak and would give out soon.

When I finally crossed the wood's edge, I collapsed against the trunk of one of the huge trees. Shivers racked my shoulders, even though perspiration ran down my skin in rivulets. My breaths were uneven and shallow, and the air around me seemed to be devoid of oxygen.

My vision spun with each direction I looked, so I simply shut my eyes, listening to my own labored heartbeats.

A dry branch snapped a short distance away.

I jolted out of my stupor, wildly looking around. Panic seized my limbs and choked my breaths. All I could think was if the guards from the farm had come after me. I had not taken that into consideration, seeing as I'm naught but a mere slave to them, not worth the effort of pursuing.

The footfalls drew closer.

I mustered the dregs of my strength and moved to hide among the massive tree roots. From this spot, I watched the rustling leaves ahead, waiting to see who it could be, roaming the woods at this hour. Judging by the footfalls, it was one male. A bit of relief ran through me as the guards would have come in a pair, at least.

But my shoulders were still wrung tight with tension. I was so engrossed in the thicket across from the tree, that I forgot about the rest of my surroundings.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” The booming male sneer from somewhere behind me made me instantly jump.

I whirled around, and there was a large and unwashed male right behind me, stalking closer. I gasped and pushed against the tree. His eyes roamed my tattered skirts, and drool poured between his lengthened fangs. Werewolf. From the thicket I had been watching, another emerged.

“What did you find?” The other werewolf asked gutturally, flanking the side of the tree. “A female. Bless the goddess, I've not rutted one in many moons!”

“I'll get first share!” The dirtier one announced with a sickening grin.

“Stay away from me!” I screamed and bolted away from them with only adrenaline pumping through my veins.

They growled in pursuit, shredding my dress with their claws, laughing excitedly. My screams pierced the air when one of them wrestled me to the floor. Tears blinded me, but I fought and fought till the foul breaths and rough hands pinned me into the dirt.

The one on top of me guffawed, “Nothing like a little chase to get the pecker up—ngh!”

A glinting blade suddenly poked out from the middle of his throat, followed by the bubbling of bright red blood falling all over me. His eyes rounded in shock, grabbing his neck.

The other werewolf looked around, “What—”

His head was sliced cleanly off his shoulders before he could utter the next word. I screamed at the macabre sight, crawling away in shock and confusion, until I ran into the legs of someone else. I recoiled, but the soothing voice I heard next froze my movements.

“You're safe now, maiden.”

I looked up, and a drop dead gorgeous face looked right down at me. His face was sculpted into strong, chiselled angles, with stunningly gorgeous features. His eyes were narrow and dark, like midnight.

It was a Lycan. I could tell immediately from how he towered several feet higher than the average werewolf. And also the tell-tale regal purple colors of House Tyrune draped across his mile-wide shoulders.

A roughened leather sack was flung over one thick shoulder, his veiny fist holding it in place. Crimson stains gathered at the bottom of the bag, heavy from a hunt. The deep neckline of his tunica exposed his tawny skin down the slabs of his chest. His shoulders had deep indentations where sturdy bones met thick tendons. His neck was just as thick, framed by the tousled waves of his long black hair.

And the blade he had just killed my attackers with dripped blood into the soil. He looked like royal trouble, returning from a day's hunt in the woods.

My skin burned with the desire to have him gone as soon as possible. He might have saved me, but for what reason?

“What's a maiden like you doing this far out?” He asked, his voice softening as he noticed my desolate state. “Poor thing. You can't stay here for much longer. Night's approaching, and these woods are unsafe.”

I said nothing, as those words meant nothing to me. I was not scared for my safety, nor my life. If I met my end in these woods, so be it.

“You don't seem to be bothered by that.” His tone was filled with curiosity. Those dark eyes pierced through me. “There are bruises all over you. But your eyes… they're hollow. It seems like you believe that you have nothing left to live for. Is that it?”

My head snapped up, shocked at his high discerning skill. I felt exposed, vulnerable and raw. I also felt anger, that a random stranger could read me so easily.

“Continue on your way.” My voice was cracked from dehydration. “I do not care if I live or die, and you should not either.”

He did not leave. His eyes were unbearably kind and understanding, and after a quiet moment, he extended his hand to me. My eyes fell on it. It was calloused and rough with lines, unlike anything I imagined royal hands to look like.

His tone was soothing, comforting, dragging me out of the desolate bleakness in my mind. “If you are tired of living for yourself, maiden, why not live for me?”

☆☆☆

The memory triggered such soul-crushing despair as I held Finarfin's unresponsive body in my arms. The Colosseum was quiet, every spectator of the battle of rites waiting for confirmation of his death.

I had lived for him.

He had given me a new purpose to life, and if he was no longer alive, what did I have left to live for? I was so consumed by my grief that I almost did not feel the sudden movement within his dead chest. In disbelief, I lowered my head.

And there it was. A heartbeat.

And another.

And another.