The Moon Could Only Weep by Rara Hope

Author:Rara Hope [Hope, Rara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Shararyah Clark

Chapter 27

To Entertain the Madness of Fate

Denratis’ navy coat and iron-speckled mane were inconceivably, perfectly intact. Tracks of venom tarnished his skin from jaw to chest. A gnarled and uncannily aged scar marred the base of his neck. He angled his neck into a stretch and took a prolonged drag from his cigarette.

Fates help her. Moon above, please say it wasn’t so.

“How?”

Jeddeith and Wytt caught up to her, Wytt’s smile from taking in the sheer joy in the street falling flat. He didn’t bother asking and followed her panicked stare. “I don’t think that matters right now.”

“Let’s go.” Jeddeith hooked his arm around hers, but her legs were still numb. She couldn’t move.

“How? I—I killed him.”

“Wytt’s right, that doesn’t matter, we need to go before he notices.”

Wytt stood in front of her blocking her view. “Too late for th-that. He’s headed straight for us.”

Shaking and clutching Jeddeith’s offset green collar, eyes wide, her voice cracked as she battled with the illogical. “I killed him.”

“Maybe here’s not the place for admissions of guilt.” He glanced about the crowd and guided her to walk in the opposite direction.

Wytt grabbed her arm and quickened their pace.

Abruptly a stabbing pain localized at her lower abdomen distracted her. Damn body! Not now, for Fate’s sake! Stay focused, come back to the present. She shook her head, trying to free her mind of both pain and the memories of sinking her bade in his throat. Focus, damn it!

Without realizing, she broke into a run, her companions following without hesitation. They ducked into an alleyway and scurried around barrels, keeping an eye on Denratis’ chase. He rounded the corner with them, deftly and keen. Every move he made proved he was a predator skilled at the hunt.

Maijerda made the mistake of catching his chilling blue eyes. He snarled and sprinted for them. Heartbeat and pounding boots replaced the city’s din, spiraling Maijerda forward with Jeddeith ahead and Wytt keeping just behind her.

Luckily they managed to swerve into another street teeming with people. Skidding to a stop, she clutched at her Qu’stite necklace. He wasn’t going to be easy to lose—they needed somewhere to hide. An unsuspecting somewhere, inconspicuous, and quiet. Behind her, the crowd started to grumble at someone shoving through them.

Shit.

They swerved into another alley and tried the first few doors, all were locked. Until one simply wasn’t. Above her, a placard reading Reul en Lore creaked with brittle hinges. A metal pendant opposite the sign bore no light. Gradient soot bled from ground to roof, devastating the overall impression of this building. The haggardness about it implied weakness, a place not to be trusted.

Maijerda yanked it open by the twisted metal handle and rushed inside. Jeddeith slammed the door behind them and pressed against it, watching the dim street through murky windows. While Wytt and Maijerda’s breaths were labored, Jeddeith hadn’t shown resilient calm this measured since the dullahan.

Her hands trembled as she searched for the top of the bookshelf behind her for stability. “He can’t, he can’t be here.

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