Sins of Mine - Mary E. Twomey Page 0,72

toward in the distance is a clear message to all shifters that they don’t want to travel through these woods.

They can’t handle the lawlessness that lurks on the other side—which is exactly why I charge full-force toward it. Neutral Territory is for criminals and the outcasts of society. It’s where shifters and vampires are forced to coexist, which is one of the most brilliant punishments our peoples can dream up.

The pursuing shifter’s howl to rally his mates resounds through the night, so my legs pump harder as I breach the barrage of trees that usually warn people to stay away. Instead, I welcome them, knowing I’m not safe yet, but I’m on the edge of it. Most shifters won’t do more than sniff near these woods, not even to snatch at a rogue vampire like me who’s daft enough to traipse through enemy territory.

But I’m not their enemy. That was the whole point of the peace walk. To stroll through shifter territory and let them see we mean no harm. We’re people, not blood-sucking monsters of the night.

Well, I mean, vampires do drink blood, and yes, we largely do our living during the night, but monsters? That’s a bit of a reach.

The soft cadence of paws hitting leaves and branches slows but doesn’t stop completely, so I keep my swift pace. For a second, the sound stops, and everything in me brightens at the idea that I might get out of this with only a few bruises and a bloody nose.

When the canine shifter pummels me from behind, I realize he hadn’t stopped, but jumped at me instead. His fangs sink into my shoulder as my chin hits the forest floor, my arm landing beneath my body with a sickening crunch. I roll onto my back the second he lets go, facing my assailant head-on. My forearm screams in agony, and I know something’s too wrong to shake off.

Only slivers of moonlight shine through the twined branches overhead, glinting off my attacker’s maw enough to highlight him backing up instead of lunging again. In a blink, he changes into his man form—a dark-haired brute with his hands raised in caution. “You’re Prince Destino Karamathian? Why would ye… We wouldn’t have…”

I stand, though that small feat takes more effort than I’m prepared for. “You wouldn’t have attacked me if you knew you could be hanged for it? So it’s alright to jump a vampire, so long as it’s not me? Is that the sort of logic I’m hearing from you?”

He doesn’t respond, which is probably best.

I wave him off. “Go back to your home and realize that my biggest crime was walking. You bit me for walking. That’s the sort of bloke you are. Be very proud you defended your territory from a pleasant stroll down the street. Brave soul, you are. Would you be able to sleep better at night if I bared my fangs to give you a good scare?”

“Not your fangs, your majesty!” the shifter pleads.

Oh, for clouds’ sake. “Are you having a laugh? You bit me!”

He backs away, turns, and bolts out of the forest, leaving me alone in the woods. He’s probably hoping I get too lost in here to find my way to report him. Little does he know I understand these woods better than he does, as well as the land that lies on the other side.

I was headed in that direction anyway, so I turn and trudge through what is rapidly becoming a muddy path, traveled usually only by my best friend. Salem’s not going to be happy when he learns one of his own attacked me, but honestly, I’m not sure what Alex and Salem were expecting would happen. I can only hope they aren’t as bad off as my arm feels.

Every bloody movement is an echo of pain through my forearm, shooting up my arm and zinging off the bite marks in my shoulder. It’s a solid half a mile through the woods, and I take each step with care.

When the trees thin out to reveal the towering stone wall that’s meant to keep miscreants out of Jacoba, I shake my head at the flimsy logic of the shifters. “Like a wall could really keep us out if we wanted in,” I say to the night.

Though, truly, this wall is far easier to scale without what I’m fairly certain is a broken arm. It’s not impossible to climb, but I’m grateful I’m alone, so Salem and Alex don’t see me sweat through the effort of making my way over the ten-foot-high stone barrier.

I stumble a few steps when my boots hit the earth on the other side, but manage to catch myself before I break any other limbs. The moonlight glints off the sharp, craggy boulders that welcome the unwelcomed to the outskirts of Neutral Territory.

I heave a sigh of relief that I’m nearly someplace safe. I could go home to the castle and let the healer give me a look, but then I’d have to report what happened. I don’t want a shifter hanged on a vampire’s order. I want peace.

Somehow.

The mountains are all black rock in this part of the land, and probably look formidable to anyone with a shred of sense. But to me, it looks like home, more than my own address.

I’ve many fond memories of practicing different styles of weaponry with Salem and Alex, talking politics, and trying to dream up a better future than the one that will be handed down to us. Our parents have made such a mess of things, that these angry-looking ebony rocks have been my safe place more times than I can count.

Though I never venture into the heart of Neutral Territory, I often travel on the outskirts and climb up to our cave overlooking the land of cast-outs. I wonder if they’ve lucked out and found the secret to happiness, living without the governing and often corrupt hand of the shifters, the vampires and the fae.

Though I’m not scheduled to meet here with Salem and Alex for a few hours, this is the place I’m called toward most often. It’s quiet, and no one lies to me. No one hates me. No one dismisses me as useless because my ideas don’t involve waging war on the shifter or fae territories.

So I climb. Even though I’m doing it one-handed, I move up the side of the mountain, working my way around the side so I can rest in our secret cave. It’s far enough away from the damage that might always be unfixable.

This was a bad idea.

The rocks are bloody slippery from the intermittent rain. It’s not pelting me at the moment, but judging by the clouds hovering over the mountaintop, it won’t be long before I’m making my way up to our cave in the dark, in the rain, with a broken arm.

My fingers slip, and my heart jumps into my throat in time with my foot scrambling to find its hold. Despite my apparently “monstrous” ability to see in the dark, this mountain is still problematic when scaling it with one usable arm. I’m just grateful my mates aren’t watching me struggle.

With a surge of desperation to get to level ground before my only functional arm gives out, I hoist myself up again and again, my forearm straining. My teeth grind as I grunt through the last few feet, finally glimpsing the ledge with a cry of relief.

I’m almost there. I won’t fall. I won’t fall.

My fingers slip, and a cry belts out from me. The sound scares me more than the few inches I slip before I manage to catch myself.

“Why, is that the great Prince Destino Karamathian?” Alex’s voice hits my ears from two feet above my head.

A lantern’s light flicks on and shines into the night to guide the way more clearly.

“It can’t be,” Alex continues, enjoying himself a bit too much. “Prince Destino doesn’t climb like an elephant and sweat like a bride on her wedding night.”

I glance up, and his face pops out from the cave’s mouth. His blond hair falls forward, framing the wry grin that greets me.

Alex’s smile vanishes when he sees my struggle. “Des, what have you gotten yourself into this time?”

Read the enter series by USA Today bestselling author Mary E. Twomey today, starting with Vengeful Prince.