Unexpected Mates ~ Book One
Chapter 32

“Here, birdy,” Sylvie whispered in the borderline pitch darkness. A cellphone light would be helpful, but her very slight night vision would have to do.

Kerensa shot down her suggestion of a small torch at the risk of being spotted by castle guards, though it seemed her worry was for nothing. The absolute lack of anyone watching the perimeter as they snuck past was shocking.

Fighting off the Hybrid swarm, Kerensa guessed.

“Where are you?” Sylvie called again, daring to ask louder in the silence. The trees muted any sounds, and she felt robbed of every sense bar touch in the darkness.

The only sound clear to Sylvie was the throbbing beat of her pulse in her ears. Kerensa’s steps sounded sure beside her, and she frowned over at her. “How are you walking so easily? I feel like I’m about to break my ankle any second.”

A brash scoff hit Sylvies’ ears. “You’re a dryad. Use the trees.”

She shuddered at the idea. “Forget it. I’d rather break my ankle. These trees are disgusting.”

They padded further down the trail before Sylvie’s foot snagged on the rise in the path, and she fell hard on her knees. “Fuck!” Tears sprang to her eyes as she rubbed at her bruised legs, and Kerensa pulled her upright.

“That hurt-”

“Shush. Is that the bird?”

Sylvie’s head snapped up to follow the direction of Kerensa’s pointing hand, and she squinted, stretching her neck forward.

A small shadow fluttered and scratched at the branch it perched from. “Hey, little one!” Walking further along the path, she followed the crow’s jumping shadow across the dirt.

“Can you take us to the tree again?”

Kerensa grabbed her bicep as she stumbled again and grumbled low in her throat. “That isn’t a natural creature.”

Chills trailed down her spine, but she pulled a face. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s a Dryad familiar. Some old Dryads are known to have creatures tied to their spirits. So it could be a spy for Trion.”

“Why would it lead me to his tree if it was a spy for him?”

Kerensa growled. “How should I know?”

The crow flew to the path in front of them and fluffed its feathers, its large head tilting to the side.

Sylvie pressed her lips together and looked pointedly at Kerensas’s outline. “C’mon, it looks trustworthy enough to me. Let’s go.”

Following the bird sped up the process, and Sylvie held on to Kerensa as she strutted confidently along the uneven path. The pitch darkness soon lightened to a lighter greyscale as the sun peeked along the horizon, and Sylvie frowned as a twinge in her cheek refreshed her memory of the fight with Lazuli.

“How long did I sleep for?”

Kerensa stayed silent for a few moments, and just as Sylvie poised to nudge her, she answered, “Two days. I gave you some poppy milk while I stitched your face and let you sleep while it healed.”

Trailing her finger along the seam on her cheek, Sylvie smiled softly. “You did a good job.”

At least, she thought she did. The stitches up her cheek were evenly spaced, and the skin didn’t itch or sting beneath her fingers.

“Elias gave you some blood to heal faster, but Kian is convinced it will scar.”

The slight waver in Kerensa’s voice gave Sylvie pause. Was that concern she heard? Surely not.

Hiding her smile, Sylvie shrugged and continued walking. “I always wanted a scar.” Memories of her childhood and adolescence swirled in her mind. “I tried a few times. On purpose. But they never stuck.”

Sylvie’s breathing turned shallow as Kerensa matched stride beside her, shoulders almost brushing. “I thought I was broken. The guardians at the girl’s house thought it was great, though. They could do whatever they wanted with me, and I’d be right as rain the next day.”

Despite her recollections, the emotions tied to her memories lay dormant. Hopefully, that was a sign of healing and not more compartmentalising trauma.

“Funnily enough, I only scarred when I cut my foot crossing an old railway line trying to run away.”

It wasn’t that funny, and Kerensa didn’t seem to think so either, stopping her walking and placing a hand on her forearm.

Sylvie paused and looked down at the gentle touch before meeting Kerensa’s eyes. “I misjudged you, Hart,” she said softly, shaking her head with a frown. “You are strong.”

Sylvie’s heart swelled at the words, and she placed her hand over Kerensa’s as she cleared her throat. “And if you choose my brother, I will stand by your claim against my mother.”

A gentle whoosh of wind on their faces drew their attention before Sylvie could respond or cry, and they peered at the crow, its feathers sticking out as if it had been electrocuted.

“Damn impatient bird,” Kerensa muttered before storming after it, clearly not wanting to linger in sentimentality any longer.

A slight bend in the path appeared, and Sylvie gasped. “I think that’s it!” she jogged after the bird and turned the corner before the looming sight stopped her.

Kerensa sniffed as she stepped next to her and spat on the ground by their feet. “Rot. It’s his tree, alright.”

“Rot? It’s just rotten?”

Kerensa plugged her nose and shook her head. “No, it’s a condition— usually influenced by demonic affiliation. Lord Trion is a bad Fae.”

Memories of his lips on Sylvie’s body returned with a vengeance, and she squeezed her eyes shut. Then, slapping her hands to her temples, she shook her head as if the thoughts would fly from her ears. “Let’s just do this.”

Kerensa’s warm presence at her side kept her steady as she pulled the glass orb from her pocket.

“How do I open it?”

“Throw it as hard as you can. The mites like to climb, so even a small pool at the trunk’s base will be enough.”

The white fluid sparkled, and Sylvie pulled a face. “There are mites in here?”

“Just throw the damn thing and be done with it before he realises you aren’t in your room.”

Sylvie made a small affirmative noise and backed up, raising her hand above her shoulder. Was she really about to kill someone? Sure, it wasn’t stabbing him in the heart, but she might as well have.

This would kill him.

Wouldn’t her act of killing make her no better than the people she fought against? They both had traumas of their own.

Trion, Lazuli and her.

Abuse and Loss.

What made them so different?

Both women experienced similar events, yet Sylvie received help, and Lazuli didn’t. If only for circumstance, things could have been so different for them.

Kerensa nudged her lightly. “If you cannot do this, I will help you.”

Trion’s acidic touch sent phantom chills along Sylvie’s thighs, and she hardened her resolve. “No. I have to do this.”

It was the only way to fix things. Trion’s heinous acts were inexcusable, and based on his treatment of her while asleep, rectification was an unlikely event. Lazuli, on the other hand, had the potential to be moulded. Sylvie saw glimpses, and getting rid of her abuser would hopefully be the first step towards her rehabilitation.

With one final inhale, she threw the vial with a hard jerk; the globe flew in slow motion smashing against the putrid bark with a hiss. The mites spread and climbed at speeds Sylvie couldn’t process until the bottom quadrant was petrified.

“We should go,” Kerensa said as the groaning wails of the tree rumbled in their ears. Sylvie agreed, and they ran back from where they came. The crow vanished yet again, and Sylvie frowned. She had hoped to thank the tiny creature for all the help.

The moment the castle came into view, terrible hoarse shrieks pierced the air growing louder each second.

Kerensa shoved Sylvie behind her and took a fighting stance.

Trion appeared in the doorway, a broadsword in his hand and a glowing orb in the other. His mouth gnashed strange guttural words as spittle and blood dribbled down his chin.

Then with a staggering gait, he approached the two women. “What have you done?” More blood poured past his lips. “You would kill your flesh and blood?”

Sylvie’s stomach rolled, seeing his flesh slowly peeling off his face.

“No matter. I shall take comfort in your death.” With that, he dropped the orb at his side and fell to his knees. The glowing orb splattered across the earth and formed a void.

A black viscous goo bubbled from it, and Kerensa pushed Sylvie back to the hedge rows while Trion spasmed and seized. What a terrible way to die. Sylvie sent silent thanks to her mother for mixing the bloodlines so she would never share his fate.

“We need to get out of here!” Kerensa said, keeping her eyes glued to the undulating earth.

“What was that thing?”

“A portal for Hybrids. They’ll get here any second.”

Sylvie gritted her teeth. Not those fucking monstrosities again, dammit. Their unnatural smiles and thirst for her blood still fueled her nightmares.

“Do you have any more of the flora killer?” Sylvie asked as they bumped into the first hedgerow. Her eyes flitted around, looking for movement across the dawn landscape. Where were her mates?

Riffling through her satchel, Kerensa pulled a smaller vial with a glass stopper and handed it to her. “What are you planning?”

“I don’t know yet,” Sylvie admitted, pocketing the vial. “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

The ground rumbled beneath their feet, and Sylvie suppressed a whimper ducking behind some tall foliage.

Kerensa looked down at her with a tightlipped smile. “Now would be a great time to tell me you have magic-killing powers.”

Despite her terror, Sylvie managed a chuckle. “Sorry, Kerensa, this isn’t a fantasy novel. I’m not gonna sprout wings and fly us away.”

Kerensa scoffed. “Well, it was relatively nice knowing you.”

“Kerensa!”

“Sylvie!”

Elias’ gruff shout sent thrills through her, and she stood up, searching for her mates. Kian spotted her first and rushed over, placing his warm hand on her cheek. “It’s good to see you, princess. Are you okay?”

She shrugged, giving his blood-drenched appearance a once over. “Better than you, I’m guessing.” He smiled, eyes crinkling, and she felt her heart jump seeing his old self peeking through. Not the time, Sylvie!

Elias stepped up and tugged her to his chest, placing a chaste kiss on her lips. “You’ll tell me everything later.”

“Yes,” she breathed, squeezing him tight. “But I think, right now, you need to prepare for a fight.”

Elias looked over his shoulder at the Hybrids crawling like arachnids from the portal and growled. “I think you’re right.”