I should be happy, but I’m desolate in the wake of what might have come to pass if not for my sister’s timely arrival.
Hot tears spill down my cheeks as I run on, leaving the festivities for the shadows of the forest.
CHAPTER TWO
Aramis
MY EVENING HAS proven busy as I track down Rosa’s many suitors one by one, ensuring they all understood it’s time for them to withdraw—by whatever means is necessary. Elijah, the Alpha who would one day be king, has also met with my bloody wrath.
As the all-summer party draws to a close in the early hours of the morning, I stand over the prone body of my last opponent, breathing heavy and blood heated with the joy of violent victory.
This is how it is meant to be.
Omegas are few, and they should go only to those most worthy.
No Alpha likes to concede defeat. This last, and most challenging fight, was both long and bloody. A few witnesses linger to help my opponent—other Alphas and the occasional Beta who offer adjudication and validity to my victory.
Tomorrow, my little doe will have no one to choose but me.
I smile, imagining her shocked gasp as I present myself as the only mate, face and knuckles proudly bruised in evidence of how I’ve challenged others for the position.
She will have no choice.
And really, can I call myself an Alpha and allow a princess and Omega to be claimed in any other way?
The pain brings a heightened sense of awareness. False pretenses of societal progress dictate we hide our Alpha side. But how good it feels to unleash it from the cloying restraints, if only for a short time.
Edgar’s arrival does not stir me so much as the pallor of his face. The fury barely easing after my fight rises in answer to this silent call.
“She has fled,” he says, voice a whisper, eyes shifting from me to the small gathering. “We cannot delay. She has left for the portal.”
I cannot believe she would be so foolish as to enter, yet I also do not believe wholly that she will not.
We ride hard along the forest path that she has traveled on foot a short time ago.
Rage consumes me. At her mother and father for not guarding their treasure well before she is entrusted to her Alpha. At the petulant, spoiled brat who would do something so reckless. At myself, for letting down my guard and allowing distraction to creep in the form of the night’s many challenges.
The distance is short. Our horses take the narrow forest path at a canter, but as it opens out and both portal and my little doe come into view, we shift to a gallop.
Billowing summer-blue skirts that match her eyes are caught in the grasp of her hands making waves behind her, hair escaping the pretty arrangement in long tendrils. Face turning, her eyes widen as she sees our approach and she doubles down on her flight.
She is too close to the portal.
I’m too far away.
“You must pass through at the same time!” Edgar calls, his slower horse losing ground to mine.
“You think I don’t know that!” My voice is a growl as I urge my gelding to his limit and beyond.
Rage gives way to a fear so cold it grips me like the harshest winter wind.
I cannot lose her now—not like this.
My pounding approach only spurs her on to greater speed. Desperation chokes me—she cannot possibly know what lies on the other side. No one can; it is the nature of the portal.
A wild sea, a barren desert, a horde of demons. Nothing is impossible once you cross that shimmering gate.
Her reaching hand is swallowed first, followed by her head, shoulders, and body.
As the last wisp of her billowing skirts traverse that ancient boundary, my brave horse’s muzzle makes contact, and we plunge together into the abyss.
Rosalind
I have seen the portal often, living as we do so close to the ancient site. I’ve heard about the portal, too, from brave travelers who return with tales from the other side.
It’s as wondrous as it is terrifying.
Many leave for adventure.
Sometimes they return.
More often, they’re never seen again.
I flee for the portal site in a state of great uncertainty. In truth, I want only to look upon the possibility of a simpler life that might await me on the other side.
I’ve heard monsters roam desolate lands.
I’ve heard stories of utopia.
And everything in between.
You never really know.
But it’s also said that you can feel the presence of the Goddess close to the portal. Many pilgrims travel from the far corners of the world to pay homage to the Mother of All Things. I’ve never sought her counsel before, but tonight, as I face the greatest decision of my short life, I need Her guidance.
My plan to gaze upon possibilities, to kneel before the ancient site and seek comfort from the Goddess, is thwarted by the arrival of Aramis and his companion.
The sight of the two riders charging toward me shoots ice into my spine. An age-old instinct drives me to run from the Alpha. The how or why he’s here and pursues me is lost under this imperative toward flight.
A form of madness grips me—a desire to test the man who I recognize in this wild moment to be my one true Alpha.
Perhaps it’s the influence of the Goddess so close to the portal that brings belated clarity to my turbulent thoughts.
Stephan, I understand now, was never fated to be with me.
Aramis is the strongest suitor.
The most dominant.
The most worthy.
I can admit this now as I flee for the portal that I never intend to pass through.
He will catch me before I tumble into the abyss. How could the Goddess allow anything else?
Yet, as the shimmering gate nears amid the thunder of approaching hooves and Aramis’s roars for me to stop, I realize that the Goddess has other plans.
I am too close to the portal.
He will not catch me in time.
Caution dictates I stop.
I do not. Reckless faith in the Mother of All Things urges my feet to faster flight.
And as the shimmering wall envelopes me in its cool, oily embrace, I finally wonder at my mistake.
The tumbling seems to last an eternity. Falling, falling, twisting, and crashing until my battered body screams in protest.
Finally, it stops.
Stopping is a shock.
A horse screams. A low, masculine rumble offers comfort, and as I lift myself from the ground to my hands and knees, I see Aramis fighting to calm his rearing horse.
My stomach heaves, bringing up watery wine and bile. I’m utterly wretched in this moment.
When I’m finally done with my misery, a waterskin lands on the ground before me. My hand shakes as I wipe my mouth before snatching up the bag. Rinsing my mouth, I spit the foul taste out and, sinking back onto my heels, take a long gulp.
My eyes remain lowered, cheeks heated with shame. I’m still in the same forest, the same dirt path beneath me. I cannot readily decide if Aramis stopped me or the Goddess herself sealed the portal door.
My parents will be furious.
Everyone will be furious.
A pair of broad, booted feet enter my view. I do not want to look up, but steeling myself, I do.
Thin lips make a cruel line as he stares down at me. He appears impossibly huge as I regard him from this vulnerable position upon the ground. I’m as shocked to see the evidence of violence upon his face as I am by the empty expression. I try not to wonder how he came to appear so, but I do, and my suspicions chill me to the core.