Bloods Of Power
Aishatuh M · Ongoing · 62.5k Words
Introduction
“I need just one more powerful man. It can be a dragon, a wolf, an elf or a panther.” Betla said to Aranya as she turned to look at her. She placed her hand on both her shoulders while she looked at her with fire dripping from her eyes, “Promise me, Aranya, that you’ll fulfil my only wish.”
“I will, mother. I promise to give you the power to avenge!” And a promise made to Betla must be fulfilled.
Will Aranya be able to fulfil the promise she made to her hungry mother? Looking for a way to avenge at all cost? What if the only powerful man available to fulfil her mother’s wish is the only mate she loved?
Who will she choose between the two of them? Will she sacrifice her love for her mother? Or she’ll hold onto her mate at the cost of sacrificing her life?
Chapter 1
She looked up to the sky and the ends of her lips lifted into a half-smile, it was dark, so dark that she could barely see the sharp figures of her mother’s face, apart from the blazing fire of her eyes. The moon was birthed shortly today, and it was always on days like this that she had to leave. She pulled her eyes away from the sky and turned her attention back to her mother that was staring at her, her eyes a shade of blood and fire.
“You’ve never made a mistake, Aranya, and I don’t expect you to make one now, okay?” She spoke with a tone that would have sent a shiver down the spine of whoever was listening to her, but Aranya didn’t seem to faze. After all, this was the voice she had grown up to.
“I promise you, Betla.” She nodded her head to affirm her mother. Why would she always tell her not to make a mistake? She had never done a mistake, had she? She moved a few steps away and stared directly into the blazing eyes of her mother, “I’ll take my leave now.” And she didn’t wait for a response from her mother, because none had ever come. She was aware of her eyes roaming around her back as she walked around the shrubs and green grasses.
She had always felt free at the birth of the month because that had always been the time where she could move away from this castle, far away from Zinambra and Betla had always patiently waited for her to carry out her duty. It took her a few minutes walking into the dark forest until she felt bored. She needed to make this journey lively, and she howled at the pitch of her voice, making the mountains echoed. She was sure Betla would know, but she didn’t mind anymore.
She broke into a sprint and ran as much as she could, giggling and laughing, wondering who would it be this time? What kind of man would fall into her trap this time? What kind of man would drool over the beauty of Aranya? She giggled and her eyes twitched with mischief, it had always been fun, and she knew it would be fun this time too.
Walking into the forest that would lead her to Elara, she noticed that the sky had even been darker there, and wondered how. There was never a darker and scarier place like Zinambra. Shrugging off her shoulders, she mused to herself, ‘Aranya, you can’t disappoint Betla.’ This had always been her mantra, and as she pushed through the trees, she set out to hunt for the most handsome man. At least, she would have to enjoy these fifteen days to the brim, before she took whoever it was, to Zinambra, the abandoned kingdom of Betla.
Walking through the silent houses, she wondered how long it would take for the sun to rise and Aranya to hunt again. What was the number this time? And how many had left? She had never kept count of the numbers, Betla had always done. She needed something to eat, she had been walking for past an hour in the forest and darkness, she needed something to keep her strong. There were shops around, all closed but she knew she had to break through one and that was what she did.
She ate to her fill before she moved around the empty dark streets, eager to meet whoever it was that would be destined for her this time. Mornings were never her thing, not even in Zinambra where she lived alone with Betla and the only one that could speak to her was her mother who solely found peace in her life too. Waking up to the sounds of the people in the market, she hissed softly. She had never been to Elara before, and she had hated it already. Why were they so loud?
She blocked her eyes from the rays of sunlight and sat upright from where she had fallen asleep. She stood up, clasping her hands together as she smiled warmly to whoever her eyes fell onto. That had always worked, not even a woman could ignore a smile from Aranya. Sometimes the rivers always worked, and she walked to the nearest shop.
“Good morning,” she greeted with a smile on her lips and she was aware of the looks he was flashing her. He wasn’t around the age she wanted, she would have said he was the one.
“Good morning, how may I help you?” He asked, moving to where she was and she took a few steps back.
“Where can I find the river, please?” She asked, looking around the busy streets that were once so dark and empty and silent, she would have loved it more if it would always stay that silent.
“Follow this way, you’ll see the fishermen walking to the river.” He told her, pointing to the path she had to follow. She nodded her head and smiled appreciatively at him.
“Thank you.” And she walked off before he had the chance to say what she was sure he would have asked; her name. It had always been that way, she didn’t know why people always asked of her name the first time they met her.
As he said, she met them on their way and she silently followed behind them until the river came to her view. She grinned widely, she had always loved rivers. She moved over to a stone and sat down, bringing her knees up to her chest and she hugged them. She had always had a sophisticated aura around her, but if one would see her around a river, you’ll see her at her most pure and innocent form. While around water, she wasn’t Aranya, the daughter of Betla, the unmatched Queen of Zinambra. She was just Aranya, an innocent lady.
She stayed there until the evening, when she was sure they had all left for their houses and rushed to the river, taking off her gown in a rush. She had to take her bath. Releasing the loop of her hair, Aranya dipped her legs into the river before she got completely emerged in it and she took a huge breath when she felt herself completely into the river. This gave her joy, this was life.
She kept swimming around the river, only lifting her face whenever she felt out of breath. And just when she was about to lift her face to have some air, her eyes got directly into a pair of eyes, staring right into hers that she didn’t know when she screamed at the pitch of her voice! “What are you doing here?!” She yelled, paddling away from those eyes.
Nothing had ever scared her in life, but right now, his eyes did. She had never seen eyes so brown that she might call them maroon, no, the color of blood would do. Seeing that he hadn’t taken his eyes off her, she moved to the edge of the river and until she was out, Aranya hadn’t realized that her top gown wasn’t on that side and there was no way she would walk around in her underdresses under the eyes of this man. The bloody eyes of this man.
She perched on the stone beside her and turned away from him, hugging her knees to her chest. She got a bit startled when she saw his hand, handing her the gown she had thrown on the stone before she got into the river. She collected it and looked up to meet his eyes, but he had already turned his back at her to give her some time to get dressed, and she quickly did that.
Putting back her long hair behind her back, she glared at his back before she spoke, “Thank you.”
He turned to look at her, his eyes still fixed firmly on her face that she wondered if she had something on her face. “Aren’t you afraid of the river?” His voice was husky, a tone of power and what she couldn’t point out yet.
Her eyes involuntarily rolled themselves at him, who did he think he was to be asking her this question? If she was afraid of the river, would she have paddled that deep to its stomach? Without answering him, she manoeuvred beside him and walked away. But she hadn’t taken more than ten steps when she found him standing in front of her, “What is your name?” He asked.
And she hissed softly, if she wanted, she would have said this would be him. This would be her hunt for this month, but he was not her type, it was even so hard to stay a few seconds around him, he irritated her. And his bossy attitude? It made her cringed. She tried to move away but he held her wrist and when she looked at his hand, she realized he was hairy.
“Let go of me,” she spoke through gritted teeth, using her other hand to pull away her wet hair sticking on her eye.
“Tell me your name.” What? Did he calculate his words or he felt that he was too powerful to be shunned by someone?
She flung her hand away from him, looked directly into his bloody eyes, hissed before she walked away. He would have done this to many girls and got what he wanted, but certainly not her, Aranya.
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