The blonde man chuckled, shaking his head as he turned around. Even in the terrifying situation, all Eve could think about was how pleasant it sounded. A silent sigh escaped her chest as she stepped to the side unconsciously, eager to catch a glimpse of his face. Just as she did, the man turned around.
Her heart stilled for a second. She found herself staring into the most beautiful gray eyes she had ever seen. They sparkled like diamonds, set perfectly above high cheekbones. Strands of soft silvery hair rested against his long lashes, a few perfect threads leading towards a pair of peach wet lips that lay delicately on his pale skin that almost gave the illusion of the lightest of shimmer under the brightening moonlight.
He was easily the most breathtakingly beautiful man she had ever seen.
But she could see that despite his angelic face framed by a perfectly chiseled jaw, there was nothing delicate about the man himself.
Power radiated from every inch of his body- from the long muscled torso wrapped around in the finest of Muslin, the dark leather of his pants that held tightly against his thighs, and the deep black velvet of the coat that hung loosely from his shoulder. On it was embroidered with the most striking threads of gold, a sword driving into a crescent- a sight that quickly pulled her back into reality.
Eve stepped back, her eyes wide in shock. "You are...he was... yesterday..." She stuttered, unable to piece her thoughts together.
The man who was haunting her every thought had worn the same crest as the man standing before her. It must mean that her suspicions were true. That man was the leader of all these soldiers, she thought, glancing at the soldiers garbed in purple who were quickly gathering up the villagers as four gigantic wolves circled around them.
She noticed that someone had lit the cauldron at the village square. The flame roared high, standing tall as the only source of light to the scared group of people before her. Among the crowd were some of the Cavanoughs and Tarletons, surrounded by a group of protective servants.
Benjamin Cavanough was hiding behind his wife, the domineering Charlotte Cavanough, the unfortunate parents of Henry Cavanough, who had taken flight with their carriage at the first opportunity. Beside them was Emma Tarleton, her wrinkly hand placed on her son Hugh's shoulder in fear.
Eve sighed. So Hugh Tarleton had stayed back with his mother after sending his siblings to safety like the dutiful son he was. She doubted that he had seen her behind the row of soldiers that now separated her from the rest- an iron wall to protect their leader.
Someone grabbed the butcher's boy from behind her and pushed him towards the kneeling crowd. He hit the ground with a thud, his cry muted by the wails of the villagers. Eve turned towards the man with trembling lips.
"W-why are you-"
The question got stuck in her chest as one of the wolves emerged from behind him, its yellow eyes narrowing at her dangerously. Eve gulped, taking another step back carefully. Her eyes drew back to the man immediately, as if under some magnetic pull. He wore a smirk on his lips, his brows raised at her in amusement. The expression unnerved her for some reason.
He cocked his head to the side, taking a step towards her. The man he had earlier called Ivan moved along with him like a shadow, his eyes flashing a brilliant yellow for a brief second before it settled into a dark brown.
Eve shivered, drawing back in fright. She felt like she was being pulled into one of her nightmares, where people shifted to wolves and others drank from humans. Suddenly the man stopped, his head turning towards his right. The sound of boots against the ground echoed through the village square. Her eyes towards the direction, once again her curiosity getting the better of her.
A group of soldiers was walking steadily towards their direction, their eyes glinting yellow under the moonlight. They followed a handful of people garbed in heavy cloaks, the green of the cloth shimmering brilliantly against the darkness of the night.
The group stopped a few inches away from where they stood, bypassing the soldiers who were standing guard. One by one, the people garbed in green took off the hoods from their heads, revealing their faces. Eve was shocked to find that most of them were women she had seen in the Lodge yesterday in very different attires.
But her eyes were glued to the one woman who had stepped towards them, breaking away from the rest. The group bowed in unison at the blonde man in front of her, keeping their eyes low at all times.
"You may rise." The man said, his magnetic voice weakening her knees once again.
Eve shook her head, keeping her eyes on the woman who had stepped forward. There was no mistaking the bright purple of her eyes. It was an odd color, to begin with. Besides, Emilya was the last to see her yesterday, Eve thought, looking down at the now soiled clothes that she wore. She had so many questions to ask. But she doubted that the woman would answer any.
Emilya raised her head, looking towards the man. "My lord, we've found the-" She paused midway, her eyes growing wide as she saw Eve. She raised a caramel finger towards her. "How did she get here?" She asked, turning in startlement towards the man she had called "lord".
"So you know her?" He asked, looking at the woman with raised brows.
Emilya nodded. "She wandered into the inn yesterday." She replied, lowering her hand. But her bright purple eyes remained on Eve as she continued, albeit a bit hesitantly. "She's the one that the young...I mean the king ran into."
The King? Eve wondered as a pair of sparkling golden eyes flashed in her mind. How could that be?