The Beauty in Pain | Book One of In Pain Trilogy *EDITING*

46. Under Attack!

Saenar could feel nothing but heat overwhelm his body. He drowned in it as it spurred him on. His horse thundered heavily beneath him, he rode like the devil was at his heels, he pressed onwards like a man on a mission. This was it. It was time. This was the moment he had been waiting for since the second he made it out of the city when it was first being attacked. Every step he took was fueled by the thought of revenge. Every thought he had was filled with loss at the people he loved. His father, his lover. They were ripped away from him by a man who could do nothing else but hide away where no blood was being shed and throw money at those willing to serve him. Such a man could not rule the Nations, not his Nations. Saenar looked over at Hale, once, and caught the other man's silent look. They were ready. They were ready to take back what had been stolen from them for so long.

Sword raised into the air above him, Saenar released a mighty roar. Lord Hale Naiger, Reginald the leader of the vampire coven, and Lute, lycan pack leader roared in response. The hundreds of supernaturals behind them gave a mighty shout. Ahead, the city's tall gates grew closer and closer.

Hale's mind was on nothing else but the attack. His brain centred around that single thought: surviving, winning. Avenging his king, his father. His dangerous jealousy lingered behind in the camp as he ran alongside the very man he was beginning to despise. Mynera was in there somewhere. She could protect herself, he knew. He was as sure of that as he was sure the sun would rise in the mornings and he hoped that she would see him wield his sword, see him slash down all the red enemies, see him avenge not only the persons he lost but the persons she lost too. Maybe she would come to him then. His fist clenched. What if she didn't?

Madeline was terrified. She hated the feeling, as much as she was used to it. She couldn't stop her hands from shaking any more than she could when she saw the signal. But her back remained straight and her eyes trained forward diligently. She knew that in a matter of minutes, her beautiful blond hair would be soaked with sweat, her flawless hands covered in blood. It frightened her to think that she was running into battle. Not sweeping the floor of the town's bakery. Battle. Not tending to the tiny gardens she kept in way of helping her parents. Battle. One in which she might die. She was surrounded by vampires, in the very heart of them, enclosed by five specific ones who were to protect her while she went around tending to fallen warriors. Despite the terror she felt though, for the first time in her life, she also felt worth something. Not the feeling she got from being a queen, but the feeling she got from doing something that mattered, even if it may cost her her life. And throughout this journey, she knew she was different. In love, with friends, and ready to die for her son who was destined to rule the Nations.

Reginald was prime for battle. His heart, his mind and his body was hardened to the fact that he would lose men tonight. There was no going around it. These people who lived with him for a century, the persons he had turned himself, might die an unfavourable death. But, he was willing to let that happen, if that meant freedom for the rest. Reginald's pumping legs never faltered in the slightest; he kept up easily with the horses he ran beside. His red eyes were staring at the city walls that drew closer and closer. Already he could hear the people behind those walls: doors locking, women calling to their children, men cursing. And further, he could hear the sound of weapons being drawn, orders being barked, men running about as they tried donning their armour, securing their weapon and getting into formation all at once. On Reginald's left hand was one of those ingenious iron fists located at Servant's Fortitude. His right hand flexed, itching for the chance to sink into someone's throat.

Lute's mind differed little from the others. He focused on the task at hand, putting aside other pestering thoughts. While they waited at camp, he wondered if this was all worth it, as he head been wondering this entire time he was with the humans. His instincts told him to trust the maiden woman who had secured Reginald's trust, but his mind always went back to the moment he saw similar green eyes filled with malicious happiness when his clan was slaughtered. It was difficult, battling with his instincts. It was an innate part of the wolf to listen to their instincts first and he told himself that, tried drilling it into his brain. Now, his pack ran in wolf form behind him, running beside the vampires they had a with whom they had a truce and the humans they slowed their speed to keep up with. The humans were in charge, the humans lead the way. Lute would only wait until they have past those city walls, then he would let his inner beast go wild.