Page 2 of Warrior Princess
“Celeste!” I roared into the vast mountains. “What are you doing?”
Her resolve was unwavering. “The only thing I can do to stop you from destroying this world.”
She would have to kill me, because I wouldneverchange my mind. My people would find a way to awaken me. I was sure of it.
“Fine,” I gritted through my teeth. “Then allow me to add my own clause.” I met her gaze unflinchingly. “The female blood mage must fall in love with one from the Crimson Clan. That way she will feel the betrayal of the one she loves as he kills her for his own people,” I spat.
Celeste’s eyes blazed with an inner fire, but the words had already been spoken. There was no turning back now. She was betraying me, and I hoped her people would one day feel the rage coiled in my veins. I would make sure of it. I was certain whomever was born would never sacrifice their life for those of the Crimson Clan. Never.
“Good luck, Celeste. May we never meet again.”
1
RONAN
My skull pounded as my eyelids fluttered open and I was instantly assaulted by a glaring light that made me squint. The sun blazed fiercely above me, not a single cloud daring to obscure its wrath. With a groan of discomfort, I shifted to my side. As I moved, my fingers brushed against my neck where I discovered a dart embedded in my skin.
“What the hell?” I muttered, plucking the dart out as I pushed myself upright, just in time to notice Silas sitting solemnly at the base of the hill outside the bustling market area—a hill I had just been on with Leila.
Frantically, I scanned my surroundings for any sign of her, but she was conspicuously absent. “Leila?” My voice was barely a whisper. I attempted to stand, only to stumble as my knees buckled under me, sending me crashing to the ground once more.
“She’s gone, Ro,” Silas murmured, his gaze fixed on the grass underfoot, avoiding my desperate eyes.
“Where’d she go? Did she return to Valoria? Who shot me?” I rattled off a bunch of questions as panic rose in my throat.
He shook his head, his voice barely audible. “No, Ro. I mean she’sgone.”
Confusion and pain mingled as my headache intensified. “But where?” I screamed, my voice tinged with hysteria.
“She’s dead!” Silas erupted angrily, his hands clawing at the grass, tearing it from the earth and hurling it across the hillside.
Stunned, I recoiled from his harsh words and fell, landing hard on the ground. “Wh-What?” I stuttered incredulously.
He exhaled a heavy sigh. “Your father… His men shot you with a tranquilizing dart to get you out of the way so he could take her to the cave where the demon fox rests. The ceremony is already over.”
“No,” I whispered in disbelief, my mind reeling. “That can’t be! My father promised it wouldn’t be until tomorrow—today—” My words trailed off and I shook my head, trying to dispel the fog of confusion.
“She would have been too powerful tonight. The ceremony had to be completed last night,” he explained grimly. “You knew it, and so did he. He didn’t want you to interfere. He’s already at the ritual hall with the demon fox.”
Ignoring the throbbing in my head, I staggered to my feet and started running down the hill toward the ritual hall.
“Ronan, wait!” Silas called after me, his voice laced with desperation.
“Why didn’t you stop him?” I yelled over my shoulder without slowing my pace.
“I couldn’t!” he shouted back, his voice strained with regret. “I only found out after it was done, and I only found you here this morning.”
“No.” A spark of realization ignited my fear. “He's going to steal the wish from me!” My voice rose sharply, laced with alarm.
“It's too late, Ro! He's already inside, consulting with the elders. The decision is final.”
His words hit me like a cold wave, dashing any remaining hope. “No!” My shout echoed through the air, a desperate plea as tears threatened to blur my vision. “No,” I whispered again, my voice breaking. “She can’t be dead.”
Bursting through the bustling marketplace, I ignored the familiar greetings from clan members. My heart thundered against my ribcage, every beat a loud drum in my ears as panic constricted my throat and the urge to scream built within me.
I reached the ritual hall and shoved aside the heavy, ornate cloth that served as a door before storming in. The room was dimly lit and the air was redolent with spicy incense. Half a dozen solemn elders were seated in a semi-circle, their eyes fixed on the center where my father stood beside an imposing figure—the demon fox.
When the demon fox turned to face me, I froze. His long, wavy hair cascaded down his back, ending at his waist, and his eyes glowed a fierce crimson. Tattoos, symbols of our people, adorned his skin, but it was the bushy white tail that flicked behind him that truly caught me off guard.
