Es jolted awake with a sharp gasp, her eyes flying open as though she just escaped from a vivid nightmare. She shot upright on the bed, her heart pounding frantically in her chest. Disoriented, she glanced around the room she was in and recalled coming in here to get so sleep.
Her hand instinctively pressed against her chest, trying to calm the wild beat of her heart. But one thing consud her mind, and it was Donovan.
Why was he the first thing she thought of upon waking up?
Tossing the covers aside, Es slipped out of bed and quietly made her way down the dimly lit corridor. She hesitated when she found herself standing in front of Donovan’s chamber door.
Her hand lingered just before knocking, and she questioned herself on what excuse she might tell him if he opened the door and asked what she was doing here.
After receiving no answer upon three knocks, she gripped the door handle and, after a brief pause, turned it to enter.
The mont she stepped inside, his scent enveloped her, familiar and intoxicating. But the room felt different — empty, his presence glaringly absent, leaving only the lingering traces of him behind.
Stepping outside, she caught sight of Lothar striding purposefully down the corridor, his arms weighed down with a stack of docunts. His brow was deeply furrowed in concentration, but she called out to him.
"Lothar." Hearing his na, his expression softened as he turned to acknowledge whoever called his na.
"Have you seen Donovan?" Es asked, striding up to him.
Lothar paused for a mont, then shook his head. "He’s not in the shadowspire at the mont," he replied, adjusting the papers in his grasp, but that did nothing to ease Es’s discomfort.
"Do you know where he went?"
A faint sigh escaped him. "No, he didn’t say. Donovan rarely shares his plan. I did ask, but he only ntioned he would be back before midnight. He should return soon," he assured her, offering a brief nod before continuing on his way, disappearing down the corridor to tend to his responsibilities.
Es felt a sharp sense of unease creeping into her chest, tightening like a vice around her heart.
An inexplicable pull urged her to see Donovan, and until she did, the restlessness within her refused to settle.
Was this the mate bond affecting her? He hadn’t even marked her, yet her emotions seed to stir whenever she thought of him, leaving her unnerved.
"I’m worrying over nothing," she told herself, trying to push the anxious thought away. This was Donovan, after all. Could soone as strong as him truly be in danger? And why did she even care so deeply?
Her actions right now were only encouraging the bond, but at the sa ti, she couldn’t help but worry.
"Es, let’s go have dinner," Althea’s voice pierced through Es’s thoughts, startling her as she suddenly appeared at her side with Finnian in tow.
Her arm swiftly looped through Es’s, her energy relentless as she gently, but insistently, guided her towards the stairs. The casual, almost playful way Althea moved felt out of sync with Es’s lingering concern, making her hesitate.
"How about the three of us go out tomorrow, I’ll drag my sister along if she agrees to co with . I’ll show you every corner of the damned." Althea’s offer hung in the air like a strange invitation, and Es blinked, the word catching her off guard.
She hadn’t yet acclaid herself to this place, and now, the very na seed to have left her in awe.
"That’s the na of this place?" she asked quietly, and Althea nodded.
"You’d be surprised to know we built it ourselves." She chid, not missing a beat. "We call it the Land of the Damned because everyone here has been castrated from Illyria — except the two of you, of course. It’s a reminder of the revenge we have to seek on the kingdom, though I just want peace and harmony between both borders!" She added brightly, and Es instantly felt a strange feeling of fear creep in when she saw a different emotion in Althea’s eyes.
Was that anger? Though her sweet smile was still perfectly intact.
Es’s heart skipped a beat as the implications of those words sank in. They were banished, forsaken. She wondered if Althea’s smile was just a mask she uses to conceal her real emotions.
"I can’t wait to share with the both of you how it was built!" Althea’s excitent continued as they descended the stairs.
—----～♡～--------
In the heart of the woods, night had finally dawned on them.
Donovan grimaced, a sharp wave of agony tearing through him as his left arm was violently severed. The pain was brief but blinding, forcing him to stagger montarily.
His body, however, responded swiftly as his arm began to regenerate. Muscle and bone reford in seconds, his new arm materializing, fist clenching instinctively.
He then exhaled, steadying himself as his attention shifted from Eugene to the approaching figures, his instincts flaring.
The sound of galloping horses grew closer and closer. It wasn’t a demon approaching, that much he could tell.
Lennox dismounted from his horse with purpose, and beside him, Dahr wasted no ti at all. He raised his weapon and fired two syringes straight into Donovan’s chest. The lycobane injection sent a cold burn through Donovan’s body, montarily shocking his senses.
"Got him!" Dahr muttered under his breath, a victorious gleam in his eyes when he saw he hit his target.
Donovan’s heightened awareness seed to fail him at the spot, his body unable to register the attack fast enough to react. The serum which was designed to neutralize shifters, surged through his veins, inevitably slowing his movents.
Seizing the opportunity, Eugene disappeared into the shadows of the forest.
Donovan pulled out the syringes from his chest, carelessly tossing it aside, his jaw clenched as his mind raced.
How had he missed this?
Before he could gather his thoughts, Lennox transford in a blur of motion, shifting into his towering lycan form with terrifying speed. A savage growl escaped him as he lunged forward, his massive fist crashing towards Donovan like a hamr ant to crush him on earth.
With his instinct kicking in, Donovan sensed the attack and barely evaded the blow, performing a quick backflip, muscles tensing as his teeth ground together. The fist that was ant for him connected with the ground with brutal impact, and Donovan’s heart pounded in his chest.
The thought gnawed at him, cause how had he let them slip past his guard?
The Lycan before him growled nacingly, golden eyes flashing with indignation, and rather than sticking by after getting injected with lycobane serum, Donovan pushed past his initial shock. Instead, his body surged upward in a swift, desperate leap to the nearest tree, well beyond the lycan’s reach.
"I’ll just have to absorb the drug," he muttered under his breath, his voice tight with determination. At this point, he had no choice but to endure the serum coursing through his veins, knowing full well that his body could withstand two serums at once.
He could slow down his body system to avoid getting paralyzed, so that buys him enough ti to absorb the serum. It was the least of his concern at the mont, because the poison was gradually severing his connection to his wolf, hindering his own transformation.
This was probably what Finnian felt.
"You can’t escape," Dahr’s voice cut through the dense wood as he dismounted from his horse, a cruel promise hanging in the air. "If you want us to take things easy, hand Es over, and we might grant you a quick and very painless death."
Donovan’s lips curled in disdain, his eyes narrowing in irritation. Did they really think he was that naive?
Below, a Lycan’s growl reverberated through the forest, and Donovan’s body swayed when he felt the tremor of a mighty slam. The Lycan’s colossal form collided with the tree he was in, sending a cascade of leaves and splinters through the air.
Instinctively, Donovan sprang into action, leaping onto a branch to escape the chaotic force, whilst Lennox pursued him with determined strides, his frustration mounting as the demon sought to escape him.
Donovan’s nimble movents thwarted Dahr’s attempt to target him with another vial of serum.
"Shit!" Cursing under his breath, Dahr mounted his horse and spurred it forward. He still hadn’t forgotten what Donovan did to him in the tower, and his revenge was just not a goal, but an obsession that drove him forward.
anwhile, Donovan darted from branch to branch with precise, frantic movents, and each leap was a desperate attempt to escape the relentless assault of Lennox.
Everyti the lycan’s body collided with the trees, the force of the impact reverberated through the branches, shaking them violently. There was no way his poisoned human body could handle a lycan, and not just any lycan, but Lennox in person.
He had left his blindfold back there.
"Hah... Damn it," he muttered under his breath, frustration evident in his voice. He knew he had ssed up on this one.
Finally, unable to keep up with Lennox’s unyielding pursuit, he was forced to the ground. The next mont, he felt the searing pain of a lycan’s powerful punch, which sent him hurtling in the air. Gravity took hold, dragging him back towards the earth. He crashed down with such force that a crater ford beneath him, and there was no ti for him to recover.
He rolled away urgently as the lycan’s colossal feet ca crashing down where he had just been, narrowly avoiding a brutal stomp that threatened to crush him into the ground.
He could sense the bloodlust emanating from the Lycan, a tangible force that made each punch and swipe of its claws feel like a brutal assault on his soul. He ducked and dodged frantically, narrowly avoiding the deadly projectiles of flying serums that whizzed by him.
"Fuck this!" Evading another one of the Lycan’s attacks, Donovan focused his senses on Dahr amidst the chaos. His fingers reached for his star blade with a sense of urgency, and with a swift decisive motion, he sent it hurtling at Dahr.
The star blade cut through the air with lethal precision, disarming Dahr by sending his weapon skittering across the ground. The temporary reprieve granted him a crucial mont to regroup and face the towering lycan, whose sheer size and ferocity seed insurmountable.
Just when he finally got a good grip of his senses, he heard a faint voice that was carried by the wind.
"Don’t. Move."
The command was more than just a word; it was a sudden, compelling force that seized the lycan, immobilizing him as though he had been turned into stone. Dahr too was inevitably caught in its grip.
Before Donovan could comprehend the surreal shift in the atmosphere, a hand imdiately gripped his arm, wrenching him away from the scene.
"Vel’keth" the voice said, its tone clip and urgent, causing Donovan’s muscles to stiffen montarily. Vel’keth was a safe word that ant, ’co with ’ when translated from a cursed speech user’s language.
The one dragging him was a cursed speech user.
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