Her mother Songbird was a wanderer, a gyspy by heart, who wandered from swamplands to sea. She was a dancer, with a heart the size of the ocean and too much trust for a mare of her bloodline. She had an affliction for pretty boys with charm-your-pants-off smiles and a way with words, but it never lasted. Men were her downfall again and again, building her up only to tear her down, until her heart was too wounded to continue to hope for a happy ending for herself.
It was a mistake to trust him--the stallion who called himself Danyel, stunning and bright-pelted with snake-slit eyes and a wicked temper, but that temper was like a slow burn. It didn’t crop up until there was no way out.
Skyrook knew what he was like, even as a tiny foal of kirin ancestry. She knew better than to look him in the eye, or to step in his direction. She kept her distance, despite him being her flesh and blood. A father with no intentions of fathering. He ruled her mother with smooth words--and when his words no longer kept her placated, when she realized that the end was near, then he turned to manipulation. He kept her tied to him as if invisible strings held her hooves to the ground. And Songbird was too gentle, too sweet to challenge him.
The memory of her mother’s slaughter was a fresh image in her mind, even as the years ticked by. Why a purist kalona stallion would take a fancy in a half-blooded kirin, Skyrook wasn’t sure and she was quick-witted enough to know that Danyel was a danger--to herself, to her brother Raven, and to their mother.
“Let’s go for a hunt.” Danyel stood in the clearing, where Rook and Raven were resting; the evening was young, stars just beginning to dot an inky cloudless sky, and the moon hung heavy and full, casting light across their monochrome and rainbow pelts. Raven’s eyes flicked to his sister, hesitation in them. Her brother was gentle like their mother, preferring to conquer his “dark” side by eating only vegetation. Rook knew he was starving himself, but he was doing it purposefully.
Skyrook stood, eying their sire with distrust. Danyel’s eyes narrowed into slits, tail lashing back and forth and wings flared. “Catch up, whelps,” he snapped, lunging at Raven who skittered sideways with a yelp. He then bolted into the woods, his laugh dark as the forest around them. Raven’s ears flattened, his own wings pressed tight to his sides.
“Come on then,” Rook said quietly, nudging her ever-gentle brother with her nose. Side by side, the siblings slinked through the forest in search of Danyel, knowing that to ignore him was ignorant and dangerous. The woods were silent, cricketsong having died as the predators prowled between the trees under the light of the full moon, and Rook knew without a shadow of a doubt that their sire was hunting them.
She guided Raven through the trees, their hoofbeats quick and quiet. She could feel her brother’s fear as if it were a physical being, reaching out and grasping handfuls of her mane with shadowy hands. Her own heart thudded thunderous in her ears, fear creeping up the back of her throat, threatening to strangle her. Her only thought was to get to their mother, to herd her to safety. They needed to escape…but escape was impossible.
From her left Danyel lunged and in return, Raven screamed. Rook threw her head back, spinning out of reach even as she watched her brother fall to his knees with a sickening, wet sound. He gasped, breathless, as Danyel grinned down at him with a malicious snarl. Pain shot through Skyrook’s chest as grief took hold, as she saw the blood, and Raven fell to his side, unmoving, unbreathing.
“Why do you even bother?” she hissed out, cold and sharp. “Kill your own blood. Why waste your time?”
“To weed the strong from the weak,” he replied. “Which are you?” He lunged, but Skyrook was faster; banking a hard left, she bolted into the woods, crashing through brush and thorns and wishing for a pair of wings. She was grounded, just as her mother was. Ears flat against her skull, her cloven hooves clattered over the hardened earth and all she could hear was the sound of her breathing.
A scream, distant now, and then silence. Shock flooded through her, grief and angst and anger warring for attention. “Mom?” she barked, turning back for the glade, her movements quick and jerky. “Mom!” She bolted into the clearing in time to see her mother fall, her sides heaving as she tried to breathe through the mess of her throat. Skyrook hesitated as Danyel pinned his sights on her, sauntering up slowly to circle her.
“I’m not afraid of you,” she lied, fangs gritted as she prepared herself for death.
“Lies, my daughter. I have a task for you.”
“I’m honored…” Her eyes were fiery, furious.
“You have a sister. She’s weak.” He cocked his head, as if listening to something, but the forest was still. “Her name is Annushka. I let her free not so long ago, but…I’m regretting that decision.” He chuffed. “My blood can’t run through these valleys ruled by fear alone.” He tipped his head in her direction, his dark eyes catching her gaze as he slowly smiled.
“And your point is?”
“I want to see what you’re made of, my wingless child. I can offer you freedom.”
“There is no such thing,” she whispered, bitter.
His eyes flashed, crescents of mirth. “I want you to find her and when you find her, finish what I should’ve done. It’s no different than hunting a buck. No more dangerous. Little bird…” He let out a low sound, almost a sigh, and circled her once more, his wingtips trailing gooseflesh across her spine.
“What are you really going to do if I don’t?”
His wing lashed out, claw raking across her face, sharp stars swimming in her vision as his fangs snapped too close for comfort. “You’ll finish her, daughter mine, if you have any brains in your head at all. Unless you’re just a vapid waif like your mother. I won’t kill you; I’ll just rip away anyone you hold dear. I have the power to make your life a living hell. Don’t test me.”
Skyrook stood stock still, braced against his touch, her entire being recoiling at the monster that was her blood. “Wouldn’t dare dream of it…father mine,” she bit out, forcing a smile of fangs. And for a moment, it looked like a glimmer of pride was sparkling in Danyel’s eyes and it made her skin crawl.
“Fly with grace,” he said and burst into flight, leaving her to pick up the pieces of her life. As she said a final but tearless farewell to Songbird and Raven, she knew in her heart that she would do what she could, wings or no wings, to end Danyel’s reign of terror.
Even if that meant a soulless death.
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