Lament of the Wolf by C.A. Farran EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: C.A. Farran
- Language: English
- Genre: Dragons & Mythical Creatures Fantasy
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 3.6 MB
- Price: Free
Spring brought purple lupines back to the riverbank. A whisper of
their sweet scent reached out as they swayed gently in the warm
breeze. Dappled sun undulated along Aislinn’s goose-pebbled
arms.
She lay in the tall grass, clutching the earth like a lifeline. The dirt
beneath her nails was an anchor when her body threatened to float away.
The river drowned out the rasp and crackle of her lungs struggling with
each inhale as light danced across the ripples, casting sharp beams of
sunlight to kiss her face and broken body.
Aislinn’s golden hair, once braided into a crown adorned with
wildflowers, was torn from the scalp in some places. Blood trickled down
her forehead, and her cheeks were tight from dried tears.
Her lavender gown—the one she’d promised her sister she’d keep clean
for the ceremony—was torn and bloodied, and each breeze that ghosted
against her skin breathed through the tears in the silk. The ground beneath
her was wet with blood, and the throbbing in her ribs from his knife as well
as the pain between her legs had grown numb.
This would have been her nineteenth season.
Where were the gods? The ones the elders swore would protect her?
They hadn’t come when he took her body. They hadn’t come when she
begged for mercy.
Aislinn let her head fall to the side, squinting through blurring vision
until her eyes found the faint outline of a human shape.
A hooded figure stepped out of the shadows, bearing unearthly
darkness. The being’s shroud of black devoured the light around it, and a
blanket of quiet wrapped around the forest.
This was no god she’d ever prayed to.
Death had come to claim her. Aislinn knew it in the farthest corners of
her heart. Softly closing her eyes, she conjured a warm memory—running
through this very forest with her sister Yera. Barefoot over soft moss and
cool grass. She could almost hear Yera’s laughter as she resigned herself to
her fate and took one last strangled breath. Tired of counting her heartbeats
and clinging to the riverbank with desperate fingers, Aislinn relaxed her
grip, letting go.
I , to look down on one’s own body. Aislinn
watched, puzzled, as the hooded figure placed a gentle hand over the corpse
that wore her face.
Aislinn lifted a shaky hand to her hair, finding the plaited crown intact
and free of blood. A curious thing, indeed. “Is that me? Is that… my body?”
The stranger stood, turning. “Do you know what I am?” The voice was
somehow both soft and hard. A gentle rush and a harsh scrape.
The trees groaned and their leaves shook in a sharp breeze—a breeze
that failed to meet Aislinn’s skin. Part of her wanted to believe this was her
mind’s final moments, conjuring images as her body shut down, but Aislinn
knew better.
“You’re death,” she whispered.
The figure lowered her hood to reveal long red hair in a simple plait
running down her back. Her smooth skin held an unearthly glow, unmarred
by time and nature, though there was nothing youthful in her forlorn
expression.
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