Chapter 4
In Despair, Hope
Taja looked through the bars of the cells. She had placed her body in the only place where the water dripping from the ceiling and walls wouldn’t reach her. The puddle on the other side of the cell took up nearly half of the space, making it difficult to get on the bed. Not that she would have slept, even if the bed had been dry.
Her eyes stared out of the window into the cloudy sky. It was night now, two days before her birthday, and she had no idea what was in her future. A tear ran down her cheek as she remembered what had happened just the day before. How the stranger had taken care of her and asked for nothing in return. How she had hoped that things may turn out alright in the end. It had been nothing more than that. Hope.
Her eyes followed a dark figure as it moved across the courtyard and headed toward the palace. Something looked familiar about it. Standing up and focusing on the figure, Taja realized it was the stranger from yesterday. She moved to the bars leading outside and watched his movements. His steps were certain as he headed to the palace door. It was dark, but there was no doubt about who it was. She had never seen anyone with such a gait before, more like a tame animal than a noble man. The way he moved was too graceful and effortless to be that of a normal person.
As he reached the door, the guards addressed him. She could not hear what they said, but it was obvious that this was not his first time visiting the palace. She watched as he disappeared through the doors, and she began to wonder who he was. He roamed the streets, was able to silence a noble, could command a rowdy tavern with a few gestures, and was able to enter the palace late in the evening.
He’s a strange man. Taja’s mind forgot about her situation as she stared at the palace gate. Over her short life, the woman had grown accustomed to distancing her mind from her surroundings, although this was the first time she found herself in a prison cell.
She had no idea how long she stood near the window waiting to see him emerge, not because she planned to call out to him, but because she found solace in watching him. The town crier woke her from her reverie, and Taja moved back to the opposite wall. It was unlikely that he would emerge tonight, not at this hour.
Huddled in the corner, Taja spent the night looking out the window at the stars.
Her eyes were fully on the window and her mind elsewhere when someone spoke from the cell door. “Looks like you have a letter, miss.”
Slowly, Taja turned her head to look at the man. His eyes were kind as he watched her. Repeating what he had said, Taja nodded.
“I’m sorry, miss, but you will have to come here to get it. I’m not allowed to open the door unless I am to give you food.”
Taja stood up and walked over to the door. The sound of her tiny feet splashing in the puddle caused the guard to look at her.
“It’s alright, miss, I’ll just-” she could hear the keys jingle.
Taja continued to walk toward the man. “It’s okay. I will take it through the bars.” She stretched out her hand as her feet continued to move forward.
“I’m sorry, miss.” The guard’s eyes reflected sadness as he held the letter through the bars.
She took it, turned, and walked back through the puddle to her place by the wall. The guard watched her for a moment as Taja unfolded the letter, wanting to say something to comfort her. He hoped that the letter was from someone who would help her, someone who would make her feel better in the dank cell. The captain had stuck her in here, insisting it was the best place for unholy worms like her. As the woman covered her mouth, the guard stepped back. Clearly the letter was not giving her encouragement.
“I’m sorry, miss.” It was all he could think to say before turning around and walking away.
A tear ran down her cheek as Taja reread the letter. She didn’t hear the guard or notice that he had left as her eyes went over the shaking writing of her mother. It was every horrible thing people had told her over the years all rolled into the cruelest letter from her mother. At the end, her mother had disowned her, and Taja could imagine the look on her mother’s face as she wrote the last words. The paper fell out of her hands and blew across the ground and into the puddle. Taja didn’t even turn to look at it as it absorbed the water.
There was no way to know how much time passed as she sat there feeling empty.
The sun was more than halfway past its zenith when someone spoke from the door. She didn’t even turn to look as she recognized the captain’s voice. “They made their decision about you, and they made the right one. You will be put to death in two days for the crimes committed. We cannot have creatures like you degrading our society.”
Taja’s face turned to look at him. Her eyes were expressionless as she saw the way he was gloating at her. Without a word, she turned her face to look out of the window.
“Did you hear me?” He grabbed the bars and shook them. “They are going to put you to death, and our world will get a little bit brighter.” To his disappointment, the woman did not move again. He kicked the door. “If you aren’t going to respond, there’s no point in sending anyone to take care of you. You’ll be dead soon anyway. No point in wasting money or food on you.” With that he left.
Taja heard every word the man said. Listening for his footsteps to die away, she stood. Death.
The thought echoed around in her head.
Then a familiar figure emerged at the other end of the courtyard. Just like the evening before, the stranger strode across the courtyard. Taja stepped toward the bars and watched, her mind full of him as she watched him again approach the guards and gain entrance into the palace. A couple of nobles waited just on the other side of the door and they greeted him cordially as he entered. She couldn’t see his face, but closing her eyes, Taja thought she caught the sound of his voice as he responded. Once the doors were closed, she opened her eyes again and realized that she had put her hands on the bars of the window.
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Tia’s Mate
Shifters of the Bulgarian Bloodline
(Book 1)
Prologue:
Blood. Blood, everywhere. Hands swimming in it, the floor saturated with the iron tang of rusting death. It clings to his pants and shoelaces, finding all the impossible places, making him feel as if he would never be clean again. The boy wants to be anywhere but here. The mocking eyes of his father watch him as he backs into the corner, away from the male corpse splayed out on the floor, head turned toward the boy with eyes like clouded green glass.
“Come on, boy,” his father urges, mouth twisted like a grinning demon. “How are you gonna learn to like the taste if you’re too scared to take the first step?”
The boy shakes his head, shivering. That man with the empty green eyes, he had been alive only moments before. “He was alive. I spoke to him. He was scared.”
“And now he’s dead. Useless whelp,” his father snarls, yellow eyes gleaming as his son turns away. He strides up in a swoop of malice, and seizes the trembling boy by the cuff of his neck, shoving his face into the pooling blood of the freshly killed human. “Eat!” A manic expression enters his father’s face. His fingernails lengthen, his canines become that little bit longer. Passion is leaking, the emotions manifesting in physical form.
The boy trembles and cries, as he is forced to bring his mouth to the dead man, and tear into his skin, resisting the urge to retch the whole time.