Pack Possessed, page 7
part #4 of Thrown to the Wolves Series
Closing the distance between us, he stops directly in front of me, and by some miracle, I manage not to flinch away when his knuckles trace a path down my cheek. “It would seem that I'm the foolish one. Forgive me, you’re right. What sort of future would we have if it were built on lies?”
“I’m not sure how many times I have to say this before you understand, but I’m not going to marry you, Acheron. Not now, not ever. Enjoy your war games and manipulation schemes, but I want no part in either; go stalk someone else. There are plenty of men and women alike that would be happy to entertain your arrogant self, so leave me alone. I don’t have any desire to live with people who treat me like I'm delusional, and I certainly don’t need you. You've all proven that I'm far better off alone.”
A slow smirk rises to his face. “My sweet little demon, you said it yourself. You’re the only one that truly sees me; how could I ever let you go?”
***
“Are you sure about this, Lia?” Stone dismounts from his horse, stroking a soothing hand over her neck before setting her free to graze beside my ‘borrowed’ mare. Bright, silver hair offsets his multicolored irises and glowing runes beneath his skin, everything about the man giving him away as other. From his features to his temperament, he’s the embodiment of everything wholesome left in this world, and I love it as much as I secretly resent him for it.
Things are simple for them, the Elementals. Their emotions are in tune with their abilities, and they always treat things exactly as they appear. No worries of deception, no carrying the burdens of others like the Nightmares are cursed to. They exist, and they’re happy; content and confident in their place in the world.
It's why Acheron had such an easy time getting them onboard with creating the cave system beneath where our old village stood when the attacks increased; secretly bolstering his army with people that he doesn't even need to try to manipulate because they want to help and offering refuge to others. Stone’s one of the few that break the mold, but it’s only because while he still wants to help, he couldn’t pass up the potential of saving thousands of lives. We might have stood a shot at winning over the other Elementals if the idea we came up with didn’t sound like we were chasing down a fairytale and calling it a plan.
With a sad smile, I nod at the only friend I have left. With a yawn, I do another slow inspection of the brightly lit clearing. It's horribly exposed, but doesn't offer so much as a large boulder to cast a shadow or anywhere for someone to be lurking.
"They're all so caught up in Acheron's bold claims and fear mongering they refuse to consider any other perspective, and it’s going to get all of us killed. I’m not saying this plan is without its faults, but what other choice do we have? They’re going to keep killing themselves fighting for someone that’s happy to use them as cannon fodder, and I for one don’t find the appeal in living to see everything I’m worried about come true if I’m the only one left to witness it. Something has to change, and they already hate me, so what do we have to lose that we aren’t on the verge of losing already?”
Stone fishes something out of his horse’s satchel, returning with a leather pouch cinched off with a tie at the top. Sitting beside me in the grass, he takes a deep breath before reluctantly setting it in my lap. "They don't hate you, they're just scared. Trying to take away the one security they have left in favor of a gamble isn't exactly reassuring, Lia. And so close to when another settlement was hit, this one only two days' ride from home?”
With a shake of his head, he gives me a pleading look. “The humans are out of control. If even Nightmares can't keep them in check any more, maybe they’re just... too broken. They destroy everything they touch, and maybe it’s time to consider that they really are beyond saving."
Tensing, I bite back the venom in my tone, knowing the sentiment is coming from a place of concern. “If I wanted to have popular rhetoric shoved down my throat, I’d have saved myself the trip. If not the people back home, Acheron’s always lurking somewhere nearby these days to prattle on about his righteous agenda until I’m a step away from drowning myself in the river.”
Losing the battle to keep my cool, the words pour out with a vengeance. “Why can’t anyone see that us keeping our distance is exactly why this is happening? None of the Nightmares are risking getting close enough to siphon from the humans anymore, and very few can do so from a distance like -surprise- the very man orchestrating his rise to power. It makes us weak and easier to kill, and leaves them drowning in their misery until lashing out is the only thing that makes them feel anything at all. It’s a vicious cycle that’s only going to continue to grow worse, and I don’t understand how nobody can fucking see it!”
He lifts his hands in surrender. "Easy, there, I wasn’t trying to pick a fight. Hell, I hate that bastard maybe even more than you do, or I wouldn't be here. I'm simply pointing out that I can see where he's coming from, even if he's using it as an excuse to justify his agenda. There’s so much damage done, I really don’t think there’s a way to come back from it at this point. But what you’re trying to pull off is peace born of sacrifice, and that’s the sort of person I’m willing to fight for and follow to the ends of the earth.”
Stomach flipping with his admission, I turn my attention away from his earnest gaze to open the pouch on my lap. A pile of coral colored, translucent shards are packed so tightly inside that I’m surprised they haven’t torn through the leather.
“How do I make them work?”
From his pocket, he withdraws a necklace with an intricately woven silver chain that must have cost him far too much to get his hands on. Hanging at the base is a circular pendant with a matching stone embedded, and when I can finally tear my gaze away from it, it’s to find him studying me with an indecipherable emotion. Draping it over my head, he carefully pulls my hair out from beneath the chain, not immediately pulling away.
“Think of it as if you were one of the Nightmares that can siphon without needing to touch someone. These fragments will act as a conduit, an extension of yourself." Brushing his fingertip over the stone embedded in the necklace, he whispers, “But it will store the energy in here until you’re ready to use it instead so that it won’t be overwhelming trying to contain so much yourself. All you need to do is slip one of these fragments on each of the people you want to draw from, then do what you normally would with the humans.”
Swallowing, I try to slow my rapidly beating heart. "Thank you. I can only imagine how much effort it took to make this work, but I knew if anyone could pull it off, it'd be you."
His gaze briefly darts down to my lips and back. "When you're ready, you'll tell me first, yes? No matter how much strength you wield, it'll never be enough to convince everyone to abandon their home, Lia. And if we're being honest-" he cups the side of my face, thumb tenderly stroking across my cheek "- I'm afraid this is too much for one person to take on themselves, and I’m going to regret letting you talk me into this. We’re working with theories at this point. I’m not sure how I’d live with myself if you got hurt and I had a hand in it."
Giving him a sad smile, I cover his hand with mine and gently squeeze once before pulling away. "I'll give the humans this much; they’ve proven time and time again that trusting someone is the first step to getting stabbed in the back. So do me a favor?” Getting to my feet, I finish hardening my heart so that I might actually stand a shot of it surviving what I need to do. “Never change; the world needs more people like you. You don’t actually believe that being broken is a reason to give up on anyone, and you know it. That’s when they need someone to fight for them most, one brave enough to wade through the jagged shards to the person trapped in the center.”
Tucking the pouch in my mare’s saddle bag, I hoist myself up. “You were meant to save people, Stone. I’m just not one of them.”
***
Despite the sun’s place in the center of the sky, it carries all of the tranquility of night. Add in the fact that the heat of summer has finally begun to subside, and I could argue that this may actually be the perfect moment in time that I’d stretch out forever if I had the ability.
Reaching beneath the collar of my shirt, I withdraw my necklace, staring at the bright stone dangling above my face under the illusion of security that my perch high on the cliff offers. Any of the humans in the village at the base could see a figure if they looked my way, but there’s too much distance to make out any of my features, let alone what’s in my hand. But while I need one of the shards actually on the individual demon that I want to discreetly steal energy from, the humans? If I hide it in the center of a populated space, I can siphon from whoever ventures close to it, so the payoff is well worth the risk involved.
There’s enough here to sustain me indefinitely already. I could take a handful of the shards back, walk away, and leave them all behind. Maybe creating a safe haven really is a stupid fantasy. Even if I managed to pull it off, then what? Do I really expect all of the demons to say thank you and go along with putting in the effort to sustain it?
Distant shouting abruptly yanks me from my thoughts and I’m on my feet in an instant, dagger in hand. Studying the scene below, I squint, barely making out the form of a soldier tumbling off of his horse at the entrance to the village. In a flurry of motion, men ready themselves, women ushering their children inside. And within ten minutes, rather than brace themselves for attack, their horses are pushed to their limits racing back the direction the messenger came, and my stomach flips.
As I scale down the cliff in double time, I risk frequent glances, but each only confirms my fears. By the time I’m mounting my own horse, my palms are covered in blood and sweat. Yet as I feel the wounds mending within minutes, it fills me with conviction that I can be the necessary evil to stop all of this.
Heart thundering in my chest, I push us harder, faster, but once we reach the base of the mountain, my horse rears back, refusing to go any further. My knees jar from the impact as I slide free, yet I only allow a second to steady myself before I’m sprinting. The slope is brutal with the sun beating down on my back, and several sleepless nights aren’t doing me any favors as I race across the terrain, up shallow cliffs and weaving between trees.
Pulling to an abrupt stop as the screams are amplified, followed by a series of ringing blades and dull thumps, I attempt to steel my nerves, but all I feel is a cold wash of horror that makes me momentarily motionless. Rather than blockade the entrance to the caves, Acheron has them out here fighting.
I was supposed to have more time.
Fires rage, spreading into the surrounding trees, and swords plunge through people I’ve known since... forever. The dark haze of energy flickers out on a Nightmare’s skin before he’s beheaded, a Chameleon’s camouflage disappears in her attempt to flee and she catches an arrow in the back. Yet still, they’re trying to fight back despite their waning abilities, only to be cut down in a swift, effective assault the likes of which I didn’t realize the humans were capable of. I’ve seen a few attacks firsthand, but they were nothing like this; a butchering that they’re taking joy from, laughing in the face of their victim’s screams. And these... these are humans that I helped, took on some of the suffering that plagued them.
That’s why it’s worse. They’re able to think more clearly, to plan instead of simply attacking in a rage.
A few of the demons match the humans’ deadly energy like they were born for the part, every blow countered and returned, blades flying and roots rising out of the ground to choke the life out of the very beings that gave us life and purpose in the first place. And for the first time, I wonder if Acheron was right, and all of this time I was simply deluding myself that there was still hope so I wouldn’t have to face reality.
Instinct takes over, pulling me out of my reverie as the faint whistling of wind proceeds the sword swinging towards me from behind. Spinning on my heel, I lift my dagger, blocking the blow at the last second. In a series of practiced movements, I break his ankle and send him stumbling to the ground before slashing my blade across his throat without a second of hesitation, hating myself for the hypocrisy, but it helps snap me out of my doubt.
We live in brutal times; I understand that better than most. But that doesn’t mean I think we should go seeking war with an entire race, our counterparts no less. No good comes from such things, only innocent people caught in the crossfire that aren’t nearly as trained in how to protect themselves as we are.
We were made to be everything they’re not. Strong enough to handle anything that the world throws at us, able to withstand the pain that comes with living; but not the only ones who deserve to. They’re our source of strength, yet in turn, we’re also theirs.
Without the humans, the only way the Nightmares will survive is feeding off of other demons. And without the humans to deal with, Acheron will become the top of the food chain, able to control everything and everyone left.
In a surge of rage, I watch as living flames coat a human’s skin, obliterating him into an unrecognizable pile of bone and ash in a matter of seconds. And just as swiftly, I watch the demon desperately tear through some debris and withdraw the unmoving body of a woman. No matter his pleas, the gentle smacks to her cheek, or the pressure he puts on the wound in her chest, she doesn’t stir. And when he clutches her against him and screams at the heavens, the tortured agony can be felt all the way to my soul. He stays there on his knees, brushing the hair from her face and whispering promises as the battle rages on around him. As humans and demons clash with such volatility, the pain and destruction they leave in their wake carves scars into the universe that it can never possibly recover from.
Rushing forward, I block the downward swing of a sword before it can strike him down. Swiftly disarming the man, I plunge my blade into the side of his neck to hold him steady, refusing to waste even an ounce of my power on him. Pulling him down into my knee as I bring it upward, I break his nose before whirling to the side, dragging my dagger across his throat and nearly decapitating him. Leaving him for dead, I follow the sound of enraged shouts, cries of pain, and distraught wails as people’s lives are irrevocably changed to find Acheron rallying those still standing, filling their heads with claims of a better world as he’s done for months. But they’re all so blinded by rage that they refuse to see anything other than what they want to at this point.
Acheron has been fanning the flames of discontent for years because he resents the fact that we were spawned to ease the suffering of mortals. The worst part is... he isn’t wrong. The fact that our entire existence is built upon the foundation of helping people that spurn our efforts, that constantly blame us for their own failings? It’s surely one of life’s cosmic jokes, the price we must pay for the blessing of our abilities.
What is unforgivable is the fact that he killed dozens of human women and children to instigate them into attacking us in the first place, yet no one believes me. The fact that I only witnessed it because I was in that same village sleeping with a human and not actually following Acheron like I claimed wouldn’t do any favors for my credibility, so having the man corroborate my story would only do more damage rather than provide any proof. It also doesn’t help matters that my disdain of Acheron is legendary, and I’ve made no effort to hide it over the years. There really is no proof to be had, but that doesn’t stop them from believing his claims at face value.
“Okay, change of plans, I can salvage this.” Reaching up to grip my necklace, I take a deep breath, scanning the brutal scene around me and desperately scrambling for a new idea. “I’m never going to convince them to walk away and start over elsewhere, now. They’ll fight until their last breaths simply out of spite at this point, cling to everything that comes out of Acheron’s mouth like its gospel and refuse to give my idea a chance.”
Turning away from my kin towards the humans that outnumber us three to one, the horrific realization of how epically I fucked up presses down on me until it threatens to suffocate the air from my lungs. We’re not going to be able to win this battle; not after I’ve been discreetly siphoning from them for the past few months in preparation of getting them to leave this war behind and create a new life for ourselves across the sea. They’re too weak now, for too many reasons.
We’re used to managing other people’s pain, but not our own. The grief of losing so many loved ones in this ambush is going to be too much for them to bear. They’ll be seeking death as a reprieve, or revenge in the form that goes beyond slaying those here today, joining Acheron’s quest to rid the world of humans altogether; even the innocent ones that have nothing to do with this, those across the sea that have no idea about the war encroaching ever closer to their shores.
The humans aren’t any better. They dug their own graves, and would rather climb into them than consider a reality where we could have a mutually beneficial relationship. They’ve made it abundantly clear they don’t want our help, so they can continue to suffer, but this time, on their own.
Misery loves company because only when we’re at our lowest do we realize how truly alone we are in this world. It’s when we’re so lost in our pain and can’t see a way out that we seek out not a light to guide us from the darkness, but a hand to hold as we sink into its embrace.
The only choice left that doesn’t result in one of our races being wiped out is if someone is willing to break the cycle of vengeance and walk away. Even if they hate me for it, that’ll be nothing I’m not already used to enduring and will happily bear their disdain if it means that no one else becomes collateral damage in a war they never wanted to fight in in the first place.
Taking a slow, deep breath, the deceptively innocuous gemstone burns the palm of my hand. The pain is searing, branding the evidence of my betrayal into my skin. It doesn’t matter if it’s in a bid to save everyone from destroying themselves. People died today, and if I hadn’t taken a fraction of power from them, they might not have.
