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epilogue
The week had gone by in a blur of activities; Novus’ final sighting before the eyes of the public - his execution and burning at the altar. There had been an incoherent pleasure that drifted through the warlord at the sight of Novus’ clipped and outraged face as he gazed upon River, alive and healthy despite his endeavours.
He had gone into a frenzy, a sort of madness, regression as the guards dragged him up to the altar. Blood and fluids trailed in rivulets down the man’s wounded body, gaping gulleys of flesh and flashing alabaster bones still unhealed in display for those watching in raptured silence.
He was cursing the brothers out. Eyes wide and terror-filled, frothing at the mouth as indecipherable words left him. Neither Hadrius nor Cain flinched at the horrific sight, their countenance masks of clean-cut stone, pristine and unwavering at his curses that dissolved to pleading and begging. They fell on deaf ears.
The guards bore him down on the wooden cr
CarrelI would recommend The Cursed Lycan as that's my next book :)
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River crouches low by the tall river reed, her body judders in slight anticipation watching the girl and boy run hand in hand as they periodically cast slight glances over their shoulders.The boy presses her against the tree, the messy fumbling of stark youthful hands is clear as he touches her. River moves slightly in the swamp, swatting at a stray fly that buzzes noisily beside her ear.She is far enough not to be seen, and close enough to gaze in morbid fascination at his calloused, coal stained hand that slides beneath the girl’s dress. It goes higher and higher revealing her soft pale legs, unmarred by scars and coagulated bruises like River’s.There is something sonorous and resonant to their intimacy that grows heated and wild as he touches something hidden beneath the girl’s garments. River knows what it is and the thought wraps fingers of flames around her neck, as though he himself is touching her.She shifts, her heart drums
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“He watches you,” the girl whispers, soft lips brushing the shell of River’s ear. River blinks feigning disinterest whilst her heart slams against her sternum within.“Who?” Her voice leaves in wistful indifference. Amusedly, her friend leans against her forearm, dropping her temple on her shoulder with a hum; “Do not act so nonchalance, River, your face says otherwise.”A rose shakes in her blood and shadows her cheeks. River sucks a mouthful of the cool night air and spares a glance upwards.Past the red, orange and yellow ball of rage that roars upwards eating its way through the wooden pyramid at its base. Plumes of grey are buffeted into the night sky, carried aimlessly by the chill October wind.Ashen debris glides silently away from the smoke onto the throng of excited children and talkative adults that all sit around the great bonfire beast, their eyes transformed into orbs of light each flickering orange
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