CHAPTER 6: THREE BULLETS FOR A TUNIC

KAELEN'S POV

The cool morning breeze wafted through the tear in my ragged cloak, stinging my ass cheeks. My gaze traveled to where I had parked the cart as I slowly inched towards the open stall. It was safe, hidden from sight.

On a bench beside it lay a heap of folded tunics in different colors. My stomach twisted, not from hunger this time, but nerves. I needed a clean cloth and a place to wash off. That meant less attention as I knew flyers with my face were already circling town.

‘You can just kill them and take the clothes,’ Thrakos muttered in my head, his hands clawing at my thoughts. I could feel his push, the want to unleash his powers. But I couldn't do that here.

“Not doing that," I whispered, shaking my head. Luckily there was no one around, else they'd have thought I'd run mad.

I took a quick look at the next stall as I steadied my breath. Clenching my jaws, I raced toward the bench and slipped my hands under the fabric, my bloodied hands leaving smudges. I quickly grabbed a blue shirt, a pair of braies and a boot. But then, the merchant's voice echoed from within the stall, making me freeze.

“... un' ve shall see vot ve can do after ze meeting at ze district, yes,” a stout man with bushy beard and receding hairline boomed with a thick eastern accent as he walked out of the stall. He put on a dirty apron and was wrapping its ties around his waist when our eyes met.

“Fuck," I muttered under my breath as my grip on the clothe tightened.

A small frown washed over the merchants face, his gold earring dangling as he looked at the fabric on his bench, and then back at me. "Vhat's zis? Zose my odyenia?” he muttered, more to himself than to me as his gaze dropped to the clothes in my hands.

“Oh, these aren't your odyenia," I said with a nervous laugh.

‘Those are definitely his odenyia,’ Thrakos cut in with a throaty laugh.

"Shut the fuck…" I paused, seeing that the merchant was now staring at me as though I had lost my mind. “I'm just going to get going now." I quickly turned to walk back to my cart, but then the soft click of a gun cocking stopped me in my steps.

"Drop ze clothings, or I vill be shooting off your ballz!” the man said in a quiet whisper as he placed the barrel of the gun against the back of my head.

I swallowed.

Other merchants and buyers who had noticed the commotion turned towards us, whispering under their voice and pointing. Attention–the one thing I was trying to avoid.

“Now look here," I tried to say casually, “I'm sure you're just mistaking these clothes for yours–”

“Ze more you speak, ze quicker you die,” he said, pressing the cold barrel harder against my head. "Shut your cursed mouth, and drop ze clothings to ze ground.”

More merchants flooded out of their stall, staring at me with grim expressions as they unsheathed swords and cocked their guns. The attention just had to keep on flooding in.

Just great.

‘Give in, Kaelen,’ Thrakos whispered, his hold extending to my hands. ‘Give in to that fire and let it take control. Kill these fucking men like the pigs they are.’

I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breathing. My cock hardened, the sweet ecstasy of Thrakos touch, the feel of his hard dick in my mouth flooding my mind as my runes began to glow. I quickly opened my eyes, stopping myself just as I was about summoning my rune chains.

“I'm not killing them," I whispered to Thrakos. But the merchants seemed to hear what I had said as they all burst out laughing.

“Zis bastard believes he vill be killing us… hah! Foolish,” the man shouted and the others laughed harder. Suddenly, they all went quiet again. “Drop ze clothing's."

"No.”

The merchant's breathing hitched and I could tell he was amused by my answer. Suddenly, I felt his gun shake and I turned to see his fingers twitching over the trigger. I moved before he could fire, slapping the gun out of his hands. But instead of clattering to the ground, it swung, latched to the old man's arm by a leather strip.

“Fucking hell," I cursed under my breath as I spun and began racing towards the cart. But I had barely taken three steps when the thunder of a shot split the air.

I felt a sharp, hot pain pierce my leg and I looked down to see a gaping hole when my shin once was. I staggered forward with a curse and turned back to see the merchant pointing his gun directly at me, smoke curling out of the barrel.

‘Kill him!’

The wound burned like hell but I pushed the pain to the back of my mind as I pushed myself forward, shielding the clothes with my body. More merchants raised their weapons and fired, loud blasts filling the market. Bullets whizzed past me–one grazing my arm and another ripping through my chest.

I clenched my teeth, trying my best to ignore the pain as I kept on running until I reached the cart. My vision had begun to blur, but I leapt onto it, landing with a grunt.

The horse whinnied as I yanked the reins. “Go! Now!”

The cart lurched forward, the wheels screeching as it grinded against the cobblestone path. I turned to see the merchant wheezing as he tried to race after me. He stumbled over a crate and laid on the ground, shaking his fist and shouting at the top of his voice.

“Curse… ye… balls, ye… foul bastard!" he screamed in between gasps.

I tried to laugh, but blood spurted from my side, and I stopped. Instead, I lifted my hands and gave him a mock salute as the cart rattled away from the market and into the woods.