Chapter 2: Chains of Fire
Elyra's boots crunched on the ash-strewn path leading out of Korrath, the shard's heat a constant pulse against her thigh. The bloodwraith's attack had left her arm throbbing, the cut shallow but stinging, and the three men trailing her were a storm waiting to break.
Zane's heavy steps echoed to her left, his shirtless torso still smeared with wraith blood, muscles flexing with every move. Cassian glided to her right, his runes glowing faintly, his bare chest a canvas of dark magic scars. Theron brought up the rear, silent, his lean frame taut with tension, sword sheathed but ready.
They hadn't spoken since the alley, but the air between them crackled with unspoken desire and distrust. Elyra felt it, their eyes on her, lingering on the curve of her hips, the sweat on her neck. Her blood—cursed, powerful—drew them like moths to a flame, and she intended to use it. The Ashen Heart shard wasn't just a relic; it was her leverage, her ticket out of this hellhole. But first, she needed to survive these men.
"Where are we going?" Zane's voice broke the silence, rough and impatient. He wiped blood from his chest, his gaze flicking to her wound.
"North," she said, keeping her tone flat. "The shard's pulling me toward the Ashen Ruins. That's where the Heart's hidden."
Cassian chuckled, stepping closer, his breath warm against her ear. "And you think you can claim it? With that blood of yours, you're the key, Elyra. I could make you beg for it." His fingers brushed her arm, and a jolt of heat shot through her, his necromancy teasing her senses. She jerked away, glaring.
"Touch me again, and I'll cut your hand off," she snapped, but her voice wavered, the unwanted thrill lingering.
Theron's voice cut in, cold and sharp. "She's leading us into a trap. The Ruins are cursed. No one comes back whole."
"Then why are you here?" she shot back, turning to face him. His eyes darkened, tracing the blood on her arm, and she saw it—the conflict, the hunger he fought to bury. "You want to kill me, or something else?"
He didn't answer, but his silence was answer enough. They were bound to her now, not just by the shard but by the pull of her cursed blood. She could feel it, a thread of desire linking them, and she'd use it to keep them in line.
The path steepened, leading into a ravine where the air grew thick with mist and the faint wail of lost souls. Elyra's wound burned, and the shard pulsed harder, guiding her toward a crumbling archway carved with blood-red runes. She stopped, the men fanning out around her. Zane's bulk shielded her from the wind, Cassian's magic flared to light the way, Theron's gaze scanned for threats. Despite their rivalry, they moved like a unit, drawn to her.
"Through there," she said, pointing at the arch. "The Heart's close."
Before they could move, the ground split, and a pack of shadowbeasts erupted—hulking, eyeless creatures with claws like scythes. Elyra drew her daggers, slashing at the nearest one, its black blood splattering her chest. Zane roared, his axe cleaving through two at once, his shirtless form a blur of power. Cassian summoned skeletal hands from the earth, pinning a beast while his free hand grazed Elyra's waist, sending a shiver of dark pleasure through her. She elbowed him away, but the contact lingered.
Theron fought with precision, his blade slicing tendons, but one beast caught him, throwing him against the arch. Elyra reacted without thinking, diving to shield him, her body pressing against his as she stabbed the creature. His breath hitched, his hands gripping her hips, and for a moment, their eyes locked—raw, unspoken need flashing between them.
The beasts fell, their bodies dissolving into the mist. Elyra pulled back, her heart pounding, her skin tingling where Theron had touched her. Zane loomed over them, his chest heaving, eyes narrowing. "You're playing with fire, woman," he growled.
"And you're all burning," she replied, standing, her voice steady despite the heat pooling in her gut. The shard's pull grew stronger, and she led them through the arch, knowing each step tightened the chains of desire binding them to her.
Inside, the Ruins loomed—towers of blackened stone, floors slick with blood. A pedestal stood at the center, the Ashen Heart's full form pulsing with red light. But around it, more shadows stirred, and Elyra's blood sang, drawing them closer. She turned to the men, her gaze challenging. "Ready to serve?"
Zane's grin was feral, Cassian's eyes glinted with intent, Theron's jaw clenched. The fight—and the game—had just begun.