Son of Ereubus Read Online Free PDF Page A

stopped, seemingly mid-word, though there was no way she could tell for sure, and sat upright to slide the hood back and remove his helmet, revealing a black shirt below his breastplate that rose and clung to his neck. His jaw was strong, his profile defined. But the look in his eyes as they grew ordinary brown in color, the expression, was what struck her — he was not just handsome, but known somehow. It made her chest ache.
    An acrid thought crossed her mind that the odd emotional reaction he was invoking in her was somehow related to the Erubians’ rumored power to steal a human’s soul.
    “You are not human,” he murmured, scowling in an unsuccessful attempt to conceal his shock.
    “Of course I’m human,” she said, “do you not see me bleeding?”
    “Adorians also bleed. Why are you here ?”
    She assumed that it was a rhetorical question, but before either of them could speak again, a cry pierced close to where they’d entered the woods.

    Garren glanced back toward the sound of the Morior’s cry, visions of the Laionai’s justice filling his mind. He’d seen death come slowly by their hands for much lesser sins than this.
    “If I am what you say I am, then I’m your mortal enemy, am I not?” When the girl spoke, there was acid in her words and none of the timidity or outright dread he had come to expect from others in his presence.
    He turned back to her with narrowed eyes, his lips twisted in an incredulous smirk, and laughed below his breath before he could speak. He couldn’t begin to imagine her reason for antagonizing him, especially considering what she was. “You don’t fear me?” She started to answer him but he cut her off. “Before you speak, perhaps you should know to whom you are speaking.”
    “I don’t care who you are. Your arrival has told me enough of your allegiance, that’s all I need to know.”
    He really wasn’t certain what to say. Before he could reply, the Morior could be heard coming closer and he saw, finally, fear in her eyes. He expected to be pleased by it; instead, all sound left his head and his sight blurred. His gut felt uneasy.
    She lifted her gaze to the sky above them, took a deep breath, and with no small portion of reluctance, acknowledged her defeat by gracing him with a faint smile. It wasn’t sarcastic. All traces of amusement had fled her winsome features. What it was, however, was so much worse; she’d resigned herself to leave this world on her own terms regardless of the circumstances. Her expression was perhaps the sincerest he’d ever seen.
    He lowered his eyes, weighing his decision. “Can you walk at all?” The words came out as a forced whisper from his lips.
    She looked at him, dumbfounded. “You intend for me to walk to my execution? I think not. If they want me, they’ll have to come for me here.”
    He exhaled sharply as he leaned down and lifted her with one arm while reaching to free her ankle with the other. As she struggled against him, he placed a finger over her mouth to silence her and motioned toward the thickest underbrush. He let his fingers slide beneath her chin as he whispered, “Go there, and do not move until nightfall. We’ll be gone by then. Do you understand me? Do not move until then.”
    She nodded, remaining still and wordless as he picked up his sword. As he rose, his eyes met hers again and lingered warmly for a moment before cooling. He tightened his jaw, stunned by his own actions. Without thinking, he shrugged the cloak from his shoulders and shoved it into her hands.
    “Go,” he whispered, then turned back and disappeared into the thicket.
    Just before he emerged on the other side, Garren took his sword and slid it quickly across the gap in the armor at his left leg, blood spilling onto the metal and down onto the cuff of his boot. He clenched his teeth, sucking in air as the stinging subsided, and walked into the clearing.
    Tadraem approached with a wry smile on his face, Garren’s Dragee cantering