Chapter 12 The Beast Within

The moon hung low in the sky, a thin metallic note of silver light trying to pierce the dense stitching of the canopy above. Huddled low in the brush, her breath ragged, Seraphine’s eyes darted through the darkness. Ash was standing next to her, his body coiled and posture tense and skeletal in the same urgency she felt in her bones. They were out of time. The far-off sirens, mere hums at the time, are now blaring roars, every second carved so that it all feels like it will be here forever. The soldiers closed in. All Seraphine had to do was to lure Ash more into the dark that she had watched. But now there was no turning back. “What the fuck did you do to me? ” Ash’s voice was gravelly, pitched somewhere between anger and confusion. His eyes gleaming dangerously, he looked down at Seraphine, pressing one hand into the place his wound had once been. "You this… curse. I feel it, Seraphine. It's… inside me. I can't stop it." She winced as a stab of guilt pierced her chest. She hadn't wanted to do this. She had only wanted to save him, but now, clearly, saving him came at a price. “I had to,” she said, her voice low and fraying, hesitant. "I couldn't have let you die. You're everything to me, Ash. Ash’s mouth curved into something dark, something wicked.” His eyes ignited with the same primal heat—darker now, the particular spark still in his eyes they had always possessed, but something more inside: a craving, a predator. “You really didn’t think this through? ” he spat, with his teeth clenched. “You gave me strength, you gave me blood, you gave me rage. You’ve turned me into something monstrous.” “I had a choice, but I didn’t,” she insisted, her heart pumping as the rumble of trucks and tanks grew closer. "You were dying, Ash! I couldn't let you go. Not as long as we still have a shot.” The truth was, she had been afraid. Afraid of losing him. Terrified of the part of herself that had always been drawn to him—the darkness, the pain, the raw energy they both had inside. But this was different. She would never suspect that the curse she wore could wreak such havoc on another. She had always thought of it as her burden to bear, but now. Now Ash was feeling it too. “You’ve killed both of us,” he said, anger tinged through the words. “We’re both dead now. There’s no coming back from this.” Seraphine shook her head. “We’re not dead. Not yet.” The trees shimmered in such a way as to appear to sigh, their leaves quivering in the refrigerating wind of disaster in the making. Ash shot his head up, the glare surface of his gaze catching on it. “They’re getting closer,” he growled menacingly. The weight in Seraphine’s chest was increasing, her senses awakening to a degree that she hadn’t felt in years. The hunt had begun, and now it was their time to run or to fight. The soldiers were relentless, and she knew she would never outrun them. Not anymore. Hanging onto Ash, her hand fisted around his arm. “Stay with me,” she said, her voice a rasp. We stand and fight together, or we die together. But we're not giving up." Ash was quiet for a long moment, his cold eyes unreadable. Then, suddenly, he jerked his arm back, his face twisted in a grimace. "Fine. But never expect me to take it easy on them,” he growled, menace dripping from his voice. Seraphine's heart pounded. She’d never seen him behave this way, not this cruel, not this vicious. But she didn’t have the luxury of allowing that to deter her. Not now. Not when they were standing on a precipice and the only path to refuge was to dive into the darkness below. The soldiers were closing in faster now. They heard their own engines, the thrum of their boots on the ground. They had no time. No time to think, to plan. “Prepare,” Seraphine said, voice steady, throat filled with fear. "We fight, and we fight hard. No mercy." A vicious grin twisted Ash’s mouth. “I haven’t been one that’s shown mercy. The two slumped closer together, becoming small and dark, their bodies thin and old, as if they consisted not of flesh but of smoke. The soldiers were almost close enough to touch, and Seraphine felt her blood sing in her veins, her senses pulled to a nearly painful pitch. Her own creaks and crackles filled her up; every sound became magnified, every breath roared in her ears like a clap of thunder. She could already feel her claws sharp and how near she was to the sensation of the change itself, zesty and near hot in her. Then they jumped, bursting out of the underbrush like a hunting predator. Seraphine was the one to strike first, her claws glowing as she tore into the closest soldier. His throat rasped out as she sawed through, his scream short and muffled, the blood shooting hot, a crimson arc. Ash and Maya were so close it was quick, brutal, and moving. His knife reflected silver in the moonlight when he thrust it deep in one’s chest and sliced across another’s throat; two soldiers dropped in rapid succession to his attack. The lumber of blood versus ground sang a death song as two soldiers fell in the forest, screaming through the canopy. Chaos: The brawl had descended into a blur of gestures and confusion. Seraphine fought in a blur as the man who had, effectively, lost all humanity fast at lightning speed, slashed at her enemies one after another. She felt the beast in her, felt all the bloodthirst and hunger, but it didn’t consume her. Not yet. Ash, however, was succumbing to the killing. There was a jerkiness to his movements; his eyes went wild, as though, at a glance, he were moving by some incomprehensible outer urgency, his strikes quicker, harder, and more savage. He wasn’t the man she had fallen in love with. He was no longer in her world, her people, but something else—“something” she wanted—dark and uncontrollable. Watching him, Seraphine’s heart twisted, terror knotting her lungs. She was losing him. The spell was gnawing at him, and soon, there would be no man she loved left. She couldn’t let that happen. Not now. Not after everything they had been through. Then she let out a guttural roar and lunged, grabbing him by the shoulders and twisting him around. "Snap out of it!" she shouted, her voice raw with desperation. Ash’s gaze on hers, pulsing with confusion, anger, and something else. But there was no time to decipher it. The soldiers were regrouping and were coming down upon them in waves. It was something they had to do, and fast. And then, in one final futile attempt, Seraphine threw herself into the fray again. She thrashed like some wild beast, claws raking flesh and bone, blood crashing in her veins. Her face, her hands, and the ground beneath her were splattered with blood. And then, in all the hubbub, one thing went wrong. Then out of the darkness stepped a giant of a man. August 12, 2019 • No, no, man, something worse: a monster. He was wearing a black mask, his movements too silky, too controlled. He was one of the soldiers; he did not enlist. He was something else. Seraphine's blood ran cold. “Ash,” she said, shaking as she spoke. "We need to leave. Now. But it was too late. The monster had seen them already.