Once Betrayed Never Forgotten #Chapter 41 - Read Once Betrayed Never Forgotten Chapter 41 Online - All Page

Chapter 41

Chapter 41: Escape

Luka’s sturdy arms cradle me as he swiftly ascends the staircase. I squirm in his embrace, uncomfortable at the sudden closeness.

“You don’t need to carry me, I can walk, I insist, struggling to free myself.

“No, you shouldn’t walk right now, he retorts gruffly, his voice calm but stern. “You’re feeling weak and light–headed. You might fall.”

What the hell? I can’t believe the audacity this man has, telling ME how I’M feeling.

“No, I’m not,” I rebut, my irritation mounting. “Now put me down!”

When he shakes his head, I beat his chest with my fists, causing him to grimace and cling tighter to me.

“Ssshhh!” Mircea hisses as we reach the top of the staircase. The dimly lit church stretches out before us, shrouded in shadow,

“We don’t know where Father Codrin is,” she cautions in a hushed tone. “He or one of his thugs could be wandering around in the church. Be quiet while I take a look.”

From the folds of her robes, Mircea produces a small glass vial filled with a swirling black substance. She murmurs foreign words, unstoppers the vial, and holds it over her open hand. To my astonishment, the black substance escapes the glass vial, forming tendrils of inky blackness that creep out over her palm. Darkness spreads swiftly up her arms, encasing her in a living cloak of shadows, until she vanishes entirely.

Impressive. It seems Mircea has a few tricks up her sleeve.

“Wait here,” she whispers, and then the mass of darkness slinks out into the church to scout out our path.

Luka presses h himself against the shadows of the stairwell, finally allowing me to stand on my own two feet again.

“Finally,” I grumble in a muted whisper, feeling a mix of relief and irritation. “I could have just walked.”

I DID

need to be carried.”

“No,” Luka responds in a flat whisper. For the record, you WERE feeling light–headed back there, and you

“And how would you know?” I ask, my irritation mounting by the second.

“Our mate bond,” he replies, and this time, his words are not whispered. Instead, they resonate directly in my mind, just like when he communicated his wolf form, saving me in the forest. I can feel what you feel. Now that we’ve mated, your every emotion, your every physical sensation – I’ll feel it

“Ok, fine, yes, I was feeling light–headed a moment ago, I admit as quietly as I can. “But the only reason I was feeling faint when you first appeared was that shocking news you dumped on me about the mate bond. I actually… well…. I already have someone I like.”

I feel my ch*eks burn as a mental picture of Aleksandr flashes before me, his piercing blue eyes and wicked smile burned into my memories. I wonder if Luka can read my mind as well as my emotions – but there’s no time to ponder.

“The way is clear – come quickly!” Mircea’s hushed whisper echoes down the aisle from the front of the church.

We make a dash for it, sprinting down the aisle past row after row of empty pews. I almost trip over something or rather, someone – lying in the aisle. It takes me a moment to register who it is. Lacob’s throat has been cleanly ripped out, his lifeless body lying in a pool of blood and gore, a gaping. nothingness where his neck should be. He’s practically decapitated, staring out into the darkness with dead glassy eyes. A few feet away, there is another corpse, this one lying on its back. His entire face seems to be missing, one side of his head a gory pulp. Even without his face, I can recognise Filip – the height, the brawny physique, the ill fitting heavy silver chainmail. The thought of Luka in woll form ripping off a man’s face is horrifying, but I guess I should be grateful. It’s like they say don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

I stumble as I step on some organ lying in my path – something small and round and slippery, next to a severed arm in a pool of blood and I feel the bile rise up in the back of my throat.

Oh my god. It’s an eye. One of Filip’s, probably. That’s it. I’m going to vomit.

“What the actual fi mutter, retching.

Just then, Luka grabs my hand and pulls me along the aisle, heading for the large wooden doors at the front of the church.

We sprint through the dimly lit village, the starless night cloaking us in darkness. The scent of cooking fires wafts through the air, and warm light spills

Chapter 41 Escape

from the windows of some houses. The enchanted shadows that shrouded Mircea have unravelled, returning her to a solid form. She leads the way, weaving through back alleys and side streets.

We reach the outskirts of the village, my breath coming in frantic gasps, when suddenly, we turn a corner, and there, just a few feet down the road, stands a barricade. Father Codrin, clad in his black robes with a glimmering silver crucifix, looms at the centre of it. Villagers surround him, brandishing torches and makeshift weapons–rusted swords, clubs, daggers, even pitchforks and a scythe. Anything they can wield against the perceived threat.

“There they are!” Father Codrin shrieks, his voice piercing the night. As I warned you! A wolf man, the loyal servant of the accursed blood count Aleksandr Vasiliev, has come to reclaim his master’s whore! Catch them! Take them alive!”

The villagers advance menacingly, and Mircea urgently cries out to Luka and me, “Follow me! I know another way!”

We hasten after her, retracing our steps with the villagers and Father Codrin hat on our heels. We pass by the church once more and continue until we reach the village’s outskirts again. A set of ancient, creaking wrought iron gates lies open before us, leading into a graveyard. The town’s cemetery stretches out before us, wrapped in eerie fronds of white mist, ancient tombstones drowning in a sea of emerald green moss and ghostly grey lichen. Wom inscriptions are barely legible, and crypts loom like silent sentinels, surrounded by crumbling statues that guard secrets of the past.

Mossy, well–tread paths wind through the graveyard as we run, and soon, another group of about thirty or forty villagers come into view. Along the ancient black wrought iron fence that encircles the graveyard, they’ve formed a perimeter, brandishing silver weapons, ready to fight werewolves,

Behind us, the other group of villagers approach, their forms still shrouded in darkness. We’re surrounded, with nowhere to escape.