Chapter 239

Arthur’s Pov

Almara and I leap through the castle, interweaving through battle cries and dodging attacks. Our breath is heavy and our hearts pound in synch with our paw prints beating against the hard, cold earth. I’d be lying if I said the thrill of it all is intoxicating.

I drink in the rush of cool air rushing past me as sweat trickles down my back. My senses heighten to what’s important: Almara and Grace. Every other noise gets drowned out until it becomes a constant hum in the background.

The milky blue sky has turned to a slate gray. The dry and cracked land is about to be drenched with a heavy downpour, and the humidity sticks heavily in the air all around us.

Bodies thrashing at one another become a blur in the corner of my eye. It seems that in every direction clusters of fights are happening. The vibrancy of fresh blood is accentuated among the bleak colors of the gray sky, dirt brown, and black castle.

I glance back at Almara who has the same hard-set look of determination locked on her face, yet with a bit more strained concentration. I know she isn’t enjoying the adrenaline rush as much as I am, but instead is using every bit of it to fuel her to keep going.

It’s the only reason I’m moving u ss fast. I want to get as far away from the battle and as close to Grace as we can in as little time as possible. I don’t know how much longer Almara has left in her to keep going. Of course, I don’t tell her this. I give her a firm nod when she realizes I’m looking at her. A look of faith and confidence, encouragement for her to keep going.

“Arthur,” She pants. I think for a second she’s going to tell me to slow down until she leaps out in front of me and tumbles with some fury shape.

I come to a sudden stop, only to pivot my direction and throw dirt back behind me as I collide into what Almara was wrestling with. I sink my teeth into the familiar and thrash my head to the send sending it flying through the air, knowing it’s probably dead before it even hits the ground.

“Thanks,” I tell her. We take off again, can’t stay in one place for too long.

As we maneuver through one on one fighting I see a vampire retreating slowly from a pack of wolves that I don’t recognize. They’re baring their teeth and snapping their jaws at the vampire who hisses and shouts something at them that I can’t make out.

I nod towards the scene to let Almara to know to steer left. The vampire is the first to notice me and stupidly adverts his eyes to watch me approach. Just then the wolf in the center takes the chance to bolt and just before he can land on the vampire, I slam my head into his side throwing off his direction.

“What the hell?” The wolf shouts.

“Kill the familiars, not the vampires. That’s an order!” I bark and don’t stay long enough to explain everything. We run again, coming up to the back of the castle. I glance back just in time to see the pack of wolves darting away from the vampire.

As we approach the curve of the black cinder blocks, I see this area is more than a continuation t of a battle ground but it’s a dumping place for bodies.

A few feet in front of us, something lands with a thud. It fell so fast that all I could make out was a black blur. Now with the free-fallen object motionless on the ground, I see it’s the body of a vampire all contorted and eyes gaped open that seem to be bulging ever more while the body appears to flatten as blood drains out from underneath it.

I glance up and see more bodies being shoved out of an open window. They lazily roll to the windowsill just before they drop and cut through the open space at an accelerated speed.

I swoop Almara into my arms and run far away from the walls of the curved building, out into the open, jumping over lifeless bodies and outrunning familiars that attempt to get in our way.

Every wolf I see I shout an order for them to only kill the familiars, to focus on the familiars, the vampires are not the targets. I ignore the confused and even spiteful looks I receive and can only hope they follow my orders. Better yet, they better hope for their own sake that they listen to me.

“Arthur put me down,” Alamra shouts. “I can run, I’m slowing you down” She continues shouting her voice shaking at each hard step I make.

“No,” I tell her and try to pick up my pace knowing that familiars are on our tail. Still I don’t stop until I get to a door that leads to the back part of the castle.

I spin around and set Almara on her feet and step out in front of her, knowing I’ll have to kill this familiar before checking to see if the door is unlocked.

However, when I turn around, I don’t just see the familiar. I see my father and Elenor tearing into its flesh. It’s a sight that breaks my warrior-like mode for a split second. I know my father senses me watching him, but he doesn’t break concentration until the job is finished.

With one final flow and a tear at the chest, the familiar’s face freezes into a mix of shock and horror before falling slack. My father looks and me and gives a slight bow and I return it. Then it’s back to the war.