Vivienne Von Vexx's Arc

Chapter 3 of 6

Vivienne carried him across the shallow stones of the black river, his head heavy against her shoulder, the carved stake still bright in her memory. The grove rose around her in gray half-light. She could already feel the warning under her skin — a tightening, a hum. The sky behind the trees was no longer black. It was bleeding pale. She stumbled into the clearing and saw it happen. The first ray struck the tall line of trees at the grove's edge, and their leaves burned gold and orange and red, a sudden blaze of color where moments ago there had been shadow. The light was coming for her next. The hunter sagged in her arms, his blonde curls damp against her throat, and she swore under her breath. She ran. Her boots tore moss as she crossed the open ground, his weight pulling at her shoulders. Ahead, half-swallowed by ivy, stood the old chapel — its cross tilted, its door warped, its stained glass cracked. A holy place. She did not care. She slammed her shoulder into the wood and the door gave. She dragged him inside as the light raced across the grass behind her heels. Vivienne dropped to her knees on the cold stone floor. The hunter breathed beside her, alive, hidden. Her hands were shaking. Outside, the grove burned with morning. Inside, in the dim, she looked at his face — that face — and understood she had just saved the one person made to kill her.