The Unhappy Heart (Book 1 of The Wolfheart Trilogy)

32. Monsters

He heard them before he saw them, for he seemed to stiffen, before slowly turning to face them. His eyes seemed empty and yet burned so fiercely. He looked so haggard and yet filled with vigor. As if he had nothing to keep him going, but had one last thing to live for. 

He gave a weary smile.

"Who would have thought that two young children would be so determined and get so far? Aren't you tired yet? Don't you want it to just be over?" His voice soothed over them, almost comfortingly.

 Andrea realized then that she was tired. She was exhausted. She wanted nothing more than to lie down and rest. But at the same moment, she knew she was only falling into the Shaith's spell once more. It was so hard to pull away, however, as she continued to study his face.
He looked old and yet seemed so young. Wise and yet so insane. Amused and yet so bitter. He was a mass of contradictions, every side of him, conflicting with another.

A shiver ran down Andrea's spine and yet she felt almost at peace in his presence as if a spell was forming about her. She shook her head to clear it, and regretted the action as Lord Rane turned his gaze upon her. Looking into those burning eyes, she saw it. A world of pain and suffering, of death and darkness. But it was this that finally broke the spell. The darkness scared her.

She stepped back, looking away.

"You are a monster, Rane" snarled Dagen beside her, causing her to jump in fright. She had forgotten his presence. Dagen's voice was filled with loathing and disgust. He too had seen what lay in those eyes.

"You say I am a monster for all I have done," murmured Lord Rane. "You say I am a monster because of the blood that had been spilled, because of the lives lost, because of this war. But let me ask you, isn't this what makes the monsters? If your kind hadn't spilled my peoples' blood, maybe this monster before you would never exist." He paused and when he continued, his voice was filled with bitter anguish. "I have wandered through life's trials alone. I have suffered with no one there to give me strength or even a word of encouragement. If I can live like this, I sure as hell can die the same way. You think you know pain and loneliness but in truth you have felt nothing. You know not the feelings of being cast out by your own people, forced to live among your kinsmen's murders. But I do."

"I know nothing of pain?" Dagen threw back his head and laughed. "I was thrown away by my own father and his people. My mother was brutally killed. And I spent years trying to hunt down and murder a pathetic coward who basically had no part in it. Yes, he wasn't innocent. But neither was he entirely at fault. It was you. All along, it had been you."

Lord Rane wasn't at all moved by this speech. A small smile crossed his face. "Alas, what peace is there for the broken-hearted? Come then, young wolf. Avenge your mother while you may or at least join her."

Dagen barely had time to react as the Lord Rane unsheathed his sword, quicker than the eye could follow. He swerved just in time however, raising his own blade.

 Andrea stood in stunned silence as both strove for the upper hand. It was almost like a dance, the way they moved in time as if following an unseen rhythm. Her hand reached down to her belt, her fingers curling firmly around the leather clad hilt. The knife eased out with hardly a sound. She could almost feel Ronan's hand on her wrist and his head resting over her shoulder as he guided her hand.

"Hold it like this. Yes, that's right. Now remember you have to wait for the perfect chance and be quick, for it may not come again. You don't want to hit the wrong person, so wait until everything is clear. Speed and a clear target. Remember that."

Andrea took a deep breath, before releasing it slowly. As Lord Rane side-stepped a coming blow, he blocked Dagen from Andrea's view. With a flashing movement, Andrea let the knife fly. It spun through the air.