CHAPTER I

It’s much easier to kill a person than it is to bury them.

A yawn slips past my lips as I rub my sleep-deprived eyes, struggling to see through the darkness. Not even the moon wants to be awake at this hour, its figure shrouded by the clouds. The humid air still and unmoving as the corpse near my head.

The woman’s wide eyes stare at me, and I shudder as her screams echo in my mind. The smell of her blood lingering in my nose and staining the sword sheathed at my side. Despite the ache in my muscles, I peel my gaze away from her and continue digging her grave.

Because it’s easier than asking for forgiveness that I’ll never receive.

Why would I?

I’m the one who murdered her. Along with the other bodies that I buried in this graveyard. Because for them, death is the price to pay for being born. All of them deemed a disgrace with their blood ruined mixed with a lesser race.

Which is why the irony of my existence never fails to amuse me. Burying bodies when I should be laying right next to them knowing I share the same ruined blood, mixed with a human no less.

I stick the shovel into the ground before hopping out of the hole to crouch in front of the body. Though I suppose my life still comes at a price. One I pay with my sanity, the fragments of it slowly fading away every time I wet my blade at my Father’s command.

A small breeze brushes against the corpse's long brown hair, revealing the one white horn sticking out on the side of her temple, evidence of her ruined blood. I glance at the white gown I put on her, replacing the bloodstained dress she wore before.

“She was supposed to get married tomorrow.” I whisper.

Not that I should know that. Knowing anything about my victim only makes it harder to kill them. Yet somehow, I do it every time. Letting myself be haunted with the knowledge to make sure I never forget the lives I’ve stolen.

I sigh and shrug off my bag, pulling out a bouquet. Carefully, I grab a handkerchief and use it to close her eyes. Her hands lay at her sides, and I rest them on top of her chest, setting the flowers in her hands. I stand and grab the blanket underneath her body before picking her up and placing her in the hole.

It doesn't take long for me to fill the grave back up, keeping a small part indented for me to plant her tombstone.

I finally step back and grab a daisy to place on top, hoping the symbolism of the flower reaches her soul and praying she’ll have a new beginning. One where blood doesn’t bind her, and she can embrace the privileges death brings. A freedom only the living can dream of.

I hold out my hands, taking a deep breath as I feel warmth pool into my palms. A small stream of fire emerges from my hands, and I shoot it towards her grave, burning the topsoil. An act to honor those taken too soon.

“May the first flame welcome you, Fauna.” I whisper, and without looking back, I grab my things and make my way towards the front gates.

What’s the point of doing this?

The question makes me stop, silence settling everywhere but my mind where that voice lives. The part of me that learned how to survive by letting go of everything that makes someone human. Merciless. Detached. Unbalanced. And yet somehow my closest friend, so much to the point I even named it.

“What do you mean, Zira?” I ask, looking insane as I talk to no one.

Why go through the effort to bury them like it’ll make up for you killing them?

Before I can respond, a flicker of light draws my attention.

In the distance, someone hunches near a tree with a torch and bouquet. They look around before dropping the flowers at the base of the tree, and I watch them until they leave, disappearing into the forest beyond the hill.

The metal rods of the gate creak open as I leave, failing to quietly close them behind me. How did they even get over there? This entire plot is private property.

Curious, I make my way up the hill, shocked to find a small tombstone at the base of the tree. The clouds part just enough for me to make out the name, almost as if it wants me to read it. I pull up my sleeve to wipe the mud off the stone and go still, staring at the engraving.

“Aisha Elara Bourne—Lunaris. Let the earth hold what fate couldn’t handle.”

A chill crawls down my spine as I stare at my name carved into the stone, and with a surname I’ve never heard. I try to clean the rest of it to find a death but the snap of a branch makes my breath hitch. My body tenses and my hand slowly reaches for my weapon,

“What are you doing?” A low voice asks, and I spin around, hand resting on the pommel of my sword. The person pulls their hood back, and bright pink hair falls down her shoulders in waves. Her bare feet pad against the grass as she steps closer, and I stop her, letting my sword fill the space between us.

“You can stop there.” My words portray a confidence I don’t have as her piercing gaze unsettles me. For a moment she looks like she might walk away, but her eyes narrow as she looks me up and down.

“Who are you?” She asks, her voice unnaturally perfect like a siren.

“None of your business.” I state, and she tilts her head, watching me as I slowly walk around her to leave. She says nothing else and lets me go, her attention shifting to the gravestone while I sheath my blade and head down the hill.

“Let the earth hold what fate couldn’t handle?” I mutter to myself, trying to make sense of what that meant. Or if there’s even a body buried beneath. Because it can’t be, not while I’m here, healthy and alive.

…Right?

“How did you know that girl?” The woman demands as she grabs my arm from behind, startling me. “How did you know that girl?” She repeats, nails digging into my skin as she grabs both my arms.

“Get off me!” But her grip only tightens as her hands begin to warm my skin and I wince, the heat burning me.

“How do you know about that grave? Who are you!” A fume of smoke curls underneath her hands, and I bite back a scream as she burns through my sleeve. “Tell me—”

I jerk from her hold and headbutt her, using the momentum to free myself. She staggers back with a wince, I take off in a sprint, yanking my coat off and ripping it to wrap around my now blistering skin.

Just as I reach the bottom of the hill, she grabs my throat and slams me into the ground. A sharp crack sounds in my ears, and pain erupts through my spine. Numbness creeps into my legs, and I reach for my throat to pry her hands off my neck.

The world muffles to the pounding of my heartbeat, and panic floods me as I shove weakly against her, desperate for air. Fighting to think past the pressure at my throat, I reach for my sword, everything narrowing to the blade between my palms.

I drive it up, sinking it into the soft hollow beneath her ribs. Her grip loosens with a strangled cry and I kick her off, rolling to my side as air rushes into my lungs. Despite my throbbing blisters, I crawl away as quickly as I can. But she lunges and grabs my ankle, yanking me back so hard the pop in my kneecap rips a scream out of me.

My sword still rests in her chest, and she rips it out, a trail of purple slicked blood dripping down her coat. My heart sinks when she slowly raises it, hovering it between my eyes.

“No…” she whispers, leaning in closer to grab my face. “No, that's not possible. I watched your body burn.” Her face softens for a moment as her grip on the sword loosens and I swallow hard as I reach for it. But she quickly takes notice and yanks it back, a scowl stretching her lips.

Without hesitation she sinks it into me, piercing my lower stomach. My scream echoes throughout the night as she pushes it in further before twisting it, my throat raw and eyes watered. My blood spills into my hands as I fail to stop the blood from flowing, panting hard as my vision blurs

“I don’t know how you cheated death or how you managed to evade us all these years but,” she leans close to whisper, her gaze empty and cold as she plants a kiss on my cheek.

“Do us all a favor and stay dead this time, Aisha…”