💥 This is a rough draft and is unedited. Each word is battle-born. Read at your own risk, be kind, and enjoy.

Leore (created by Wonder)

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🫦 Read with caution. Vikings and spiciness ahead.

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Sylas Episode: “Leore”

“Sy . . .” Arless’s voice is distant in my feeding frenzy as I relish the warm nourishment that floods my system, strengthening every fiber of my body. And awakens every nerve-ending, leaving me buzzing with unsated need.

Arless clears her throat, and as I toss Blackhorn’s body aside, her eyes flick to the chamber behind me. The world comes into focus again, and my head snaps in that direction. The girl’s eyes are wide and terrified, finally, and her chest rises and falls so fast, I’m surprised she’s not screaming or sobbing with fear. Her nostrils flare, and with each heavy breath she takes, my instincts growl with need.

With a whimper, Moose transforms into a mastiff again, and tail wagging, he trots over to the girl. Her mouth opens and closes in shock and confusion. She doesn’t shy away when he licks her face, as I expect, and I sense her heart rate easing a little, which brings me an unexpected sliver of peace. But her smell is pure chaos to my senses.

Unable to stand her proximity, I barrel down the corridor, needing as much distance as possible. “Keep her away from me, Arless!” I shout.

I hear her tell the girl to stay with Moose, and Arless jogs after me. “What the hell is going on?” she rasps.

I squeeze my eyes shut, focusing on one step at a time as the urge to go back recedes. “I don’t know, but she is a problem.” I spin and meet Arless’s confused gaze. “You feel that, right? You sense what I sense?”

Arless studies me. Her eyes trail over my body, her lips pursing. “I smell her, Sy, but your reaction—” She shakes her head and glances down the corridor toward the chamber. “That’s unexpected.”

I straighten, confused. Disgusted. Horrified.

“I feel your need, but . . . I don’t have the same pull.”

We blink at one another as heavy footsteps approach. “Ah, you found the diamond first, I see,” Thorne drawls. He and Lucian stop behind me, assessing Blackhorn’s body. “We missed the finale.”

Lucian lifts his nose slightly, drawing in a deep breath, and Thorne seems to register the strangeness in the air at the same time.

“You smell that, right?” I ask, clenching my hands into fists. “The girl?”

“Girl?” Thorne nods, smiling as he takes me in from head to toe. “I haven’t seen you get worked up for a woman since—”

“Not a woman,” Arless warns as I growl in irritation. “Girl.”

As if she knows we’re talking about her, the diamond steps out of her chamber and into the corridor.

Thorne and Lucian both straighten beside me, and when they look at me, their brows furrow. “That’s . . . unnerving.” Thorne says.

I curse under my breath, and the instant I inhale, I regret it. I push past Thorne, needing to remove myself from the girl’s presence if I’m to keep my sanity.

“Are—” she clears her throat at the other end of the corridor, and her voice stops me mid-step. “Are you going to kill me, sell me, or take me home?” It’s a command, her bravado masking her fear.

“Where is your home?” Thorne asks carefully. “Who are you to Blackhorn?”

“My home is Highmark, in the Frail Valley—”

“Frail Valley?” Arless rasps. “The high seat of the southern empire.” She looks at me, shaking her head.

“Are you,” Throne starts. “Are you Princess Leore of Soothlund?”

The girl’s shoulders straighten and her chin lifts ever so slightly, just as a princess’s would. She doesn’t dignify us with an answer. “You are the heathens preventing the false king from taking the north.” Not a question, but a statement.

Arless scoffs. “We heathens just saved you from whatever fate Blackhorn had in store for you.”

“To marry the false king,” the princess says coolly. There’s an apprehension in her tone, uncertain if she should trust us. She shouldn’t. Not me, at least. And yet, the thought of her in the mere presence of Barron the Butcher sends a murderous jolt through me.

“Fuck!” I shout, and spinning on my heels, I stride out of the tunnel.

Only when I am above ground, inhaling slightly fresher air, does my mind begin to clear. My body still thrums with a confused energy that feels dangerous.

“What jest is this!” I shout up into the sky, chest heaving as I try to catch my breath. I pace, quelling the need to kill something. “What have you done to me?” I mutter, knowing Hel can hear me. I stalk across the courtyard, stepping over and around bodies, vaguely noting Imara and her shieldmaidens helping our injured on the eastern wall.

Arless runs jogs behind me. “My lord—”

“Not now,” I growl and continue through the gates, needing to get the hell away from the fortress.

“Sylas!” she calls, and she’s beside me instantly, her stride nearly matching mine as I stalk farther away. “Sy!” She grabs my arm.

“What?” I bark and spin around. “Can’t you see? I need to get away from here. This—” I gesture between me and the fortress—to the girl. “This isn’t natural. It’s not right.”

“None of this is natural,” Arless reminds me. “None of this is right. And I know you’re struggling. I understand. But . . . she is not a mere human. She is the princess of the entire southern empire and her entire family is dead, thanks to Blackhorn. What do you want us to do with her?”

“Keep her safe,” I say easily. “Put her somewhere no one can get to her. You’ll think of something. She’s your charge now.”

Arless says nothing, understanding the weight of such a task, one I cannot help her bear, even if I wanted to.

The world is eerily silent without the sound of battle, and as I turn, ready to head deeper into the forest, Arless exhales. “Sylas.” It’s a plea, so I pause. “Why does it sound like you are leaving?”

I peer at her over my shoulder. “Because I am. Lucian and I head farther south in search of a man called Koldis.”

The crusted blood on her face cracks as her frown deepens. “You mean, the four of us—”

I shake my head. “You and Thorne stay here, raise more armies. Train. Figure out what to do about the princess.”

There’s a sadness in Arless’s gaze, already mourning our absence. The four of us have not been separated since our change. We have not had to exist apart.

“This is Hel’s order,” she confirms.

I nod. “Koldis is necessary for whatever comes next. That is all I know.”

Arless crosses his arms over her chest. “Of course it is. Damn cryptic bit—” An angry gust of frigid wind whips over us and Arless rolls her eyes. “Bitch,” she mutters.

I nearly smile. “Tell Lucian to meet me at the forge for fresh weapons. We prepare and leave at first light.”

Arless’s mouth draws down in the corner, and ever so slightly, she nods. “Thorne and I will manage things here. When the army has all their plunder, we’ll head home.”

I dip my chin. “Be careful,” I murmur. We don’t know how our powers work when we aren’t together. But Hel would not separate us if it was a detriment.

“How long will you be gone?”

“As long as it takes.”

We stare at each other in silent understanding before Arless nods and takes a step back. “Safe travels, brother.”

And with that, she’s gone in a flash, and I am alone with thoughts I do not want and more uncertainty than I’ve ever felt about our future.

There’s more Darkborn coming - stay tuned!

Until next time….

xo, Lindsey (and Scarlet)

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