A Forest of Snow and Blood

Chapter 1: Shadows

The snow was biting, her face, her hands, her skin where the leathers had ripped. She gritted her teeth together as she dug her fingers into the frozen snow, the pain dulled by the coldness seeping through her heavy leathers. Blood stained the snow by her hand, blood leaking from her torn gloves.

She grunted as she pulled up, her arm and body aching from the resistance. Sander let out a growl of pain behind her, but she kept pulling.

"The blade," she rasped, without looking back. Sander groaned as he reached up and gave her the blade. She slammed it through the frozen hill, giving her something to step on.

The wind howled, and with the wind they could hear the voices. She glanced down in a horrified moment as Sandor grabbed for the makeshift bow.

"They're closing in," was all he said, his voice hoarse from screaming over the howling wind.

She swallowed her throat dry as she looked down the steep, snow and ice covered mountain. A trail of blood followed them, easy to follow. She couldn't see far in the storm, but she knew they were coming.

"If you have to, you cut me loose" Sander groaned as he positioned the bow, ready to shoot. She glared back at him as she pulled them higher.

"No. Fucking. Way"

"Erin," His voice was barely audible over the wind, but she felt his hand grasp her knee, the tug around her middle as he moved. The rope binding them together moving and scraping against her leathers. His leathers.

"If they come, you cut me lose. Promise."

"Shut up and look be lookout," she growled through gritted teeth.

Erin groaned as she pulled them across a particularly steep cliff. And then glanced up.

She couldn't see the top, could barely see 20 feet ahead in the snow. She had no idea how far up they where, how close they where to the monolith. She guessed not very. She couldn't remember how long they'd climbed. If it was hours or days.

She huffed, her body aching, ready to give in, to lay down and freeze to death, not the worst way to go. The cold made you numb and didn't let you feel pain. Maybe it would feel like going to sleep.

Her eyes flashed to the blood splattered under her, the stark red against the glistening clean snow, so innocent but yet so deadly. And she gritted her teeth together, and kept pulling.

It wasn't called the Blood Rite for nothing.

…

Ten days earlier

Erin grunted as one of the camp matrons dropped another heavy bag of laundry onto her already full wheeler.

"Seriously?" she groaned, but the older woman simply gave her cold stare before turning away. "Bitch" she added under her breath as she began hauling the wheeler. Her boots splattered through the mud, as she started up the small hill leading up to the laundry house. It wasn't usually this heavy work, but the mud was slippery today and she had a hard time getting a grip. She tried not to notice if anyone was looking at her as she struggled up the hill. The sound of steel crashing and then suddenly stopping told her she was being watched. But she kept trudging on.

"Do you need help?" A voice called out, the words themselves where nice and the tone was soft, but Erin knew the innuendo lacing those words.

"I'm fine, thank you," she said, her words clipped, and kept looking ahead. Another girl - Seina, passed by on her right, carrying two sacks of clean laundry, and gave her compassionate look. Erin glanced at her briefly, just as Seina's eyes traveled to the man that Erin was avoiding. Her eyes grew large and she poked Erin in the side as she passed, she pressed her lips in a thin line.

"C'mon, that looks awful, let me help you," he said, and then she heard a splattering sound. She turned around to see him jumping over the fence from the training ring, and heading straight for her. Erin found herself glancing back towards Seina's retreating back, for anyone, but then his rough hand closed around her's, and she had to stop herself from snatching it back.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." Lord Gilron smiled, a smile that didn't reach his black, dull eyes. Erin shifted, away from his scent and his body heat. She was sure that was probably exactly his intentions.

Lord Gilron reached across her, taking the wheeler from her, his broad shoulders shutting out the sun as he towered over her, wings flaring.

Erin had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. She wasn't interested in his male displays of dominance, and she'd made that perfectly clear. But Gilron was the Lord's son, and an esteemed commander and warrior, and he was not used to being told no.

She fell into step beside him, as far away as she could, as he easily pulled that cart up the slippery hill with ease. It wasn't surprising, he was a brute, honed by centuries of battle and training.

A good match, according to everyone. Especially for an orphan like her.

"You shouldn't have to be working like this, I'll make sure they'll lighten your workload. And once you get married, you'll only have to take the chores you want. You could stay inside in the warmth, sowing or something". He said, his eyes drifting to her, lingering on her neck. Erin felt the thinly veiled promise behind those words. She could have that life if she married well, married him.

She wondered when he'd grow tired, when he'd find another girl to be his conquest. Well he had new females in his bed every night, and she'd thought that would keep him from looking her way but he was… persistent.

It had started about 6 months ago, when he and the other warriors came back from the war. She'd been sixteen when Gilron had been sent to look over the warriors at a training camp, and eighteen when he came back. Not turned nineteen, he thought she was ready and ripe for the taking. An exotic conquest.

Erin was originally from the most northern regions of Illyria, and her complexion was lighter than most of those here. Her skin lighter and her hair a reddish auburn instead of black or dark brown. People seemed mostly intrigued with her blue eyes. That was probably what caught his interest, because she was definitely lacking in other departments. She wasn't curvy, and her breasts where barely half the size of her cousin Neira's.

"Sounds cozy" she finally answered, trudging ahead. A camp mother glanced their way as they passed, eyes darting between her and Gilron as she pursed her mouth in distaste.

"I could give you a safe home, and status, recognition", he finally stopped at the top of the hill, handing the cart back to her, his warm heavy hand lingering around hers. They felt like shackles.

"I'm not…I would not make a good wife," she managed to press out, peering up at him. "Someone else would probably be better suited for you, someone more beautiful."

"Erin" he looked down at her, his hair swept back in a ponytail and his square jaw angling, she supposed he was handsome. But that coldness, the brutality that was barely controlled behind those leathers. She had to stop herself from backing away, her hands still in his iron grip.

"Erin," he repeated. "I want you."

Panic rose in her chest, and she felt her wings flaring slightly behind her, and Gilron's eyes caught it too.

"I have to go, I still have a lot of work to do before sundown." She said and finally felt his hands loosen around hers, his gaze traveling towards the camp mother now looking at her, and beckoning. Erin was thankful towards that horrible woman for the first time in her life as she stomped away with her wheeler as fast as she could. She dared throw a sidelong glance to see him watching her walking away, a grim smile on his face.

…

Erin was thoroughly tired as she walked through the front door the same evening, mostly wanting to lie down directly on the floor. But her aunt would probably throw a hissy fit if she got everything wet. Instead she shrugged out of her leathers - not warrior leathers like most of the men. But a tunic like, slightly longer coat accenting the waist, pants and heavy boots. The kind of outfit most unmarried or unmated females wore.

"Erin?" a lovely light voice called from the kitchen, Neira.

"Yeah," she said as she stomped inside, the floorboards creaking. Most of the wealthier families had homes made of timber and stones, easy to stack on each other and move. Her uncle being a commander at their outpost had a nice, warm timber house. A house they so very nicely let her live in, as her aunt every so often reminded her.

"Mother and father will not be back until later, so it's just you and me for dinner," Neira chirped, her hair bobbing around her shoulders as she stuck her head out around the corner.

"Smells great, I'm starving," she said back, giving her cousin a smile. Her spirits rising slightly knowing it would just be the two of them.

"Maybe we should invite Sander," Neira mused as she leaned over the stove. Erin plopped down on one of the wooden chairs.

"Sure, if they won't be back it's probably fine,"

"You have to go get him," Neira gave her a sharp look and she groaned loudly.

"I just got in and my body is so sore I might actually have to sleep on this chair!"

"Fine," Neira bobbed between cabinets, shiny dark hair swaying. Neira was a classic Illyran beauty, small but curvy and exquisite features topped of with full, rose colored lips. The men literally gawked at her as she passed. She would soon marry, being eighteen and one year younger than Erin.

"I'll go but you'll have to stir the pot, okay? If I come back and it's stuck to the pot you're not getting any!" She said sternly, and Erin nodded heavily.

As the door fell shut behind her cousin she slowly made her way up to stir the pot. It smelled absolutely heavenly, and her mouth began to water as she noticed the freshly baked bread on the counter. She knew Neira would notice if she ate something, and she didn't have the energy for it so she simply slurped a little bit from the soup, letting it warm her belly.

She finally let down her wings, the exhaustion in her body to great to keep them elevated. They brushed the floor, but it was clean, thanks to Neira.

The image of Gilron flexing his giant wings as he towered over her flashed by her mind and she shuddered, suddenly feeling a cold creeping from her core. She tried to push the thought away again.

He would grow tired soon. He had to.

A few minutes later Neira came back, Sander in tow, his eyes lightening up the moment he entered the kitchen and smelled the food.

"Oh this is awesome" he almost groaned, shaking his wings, splattering water and snow on the clean floor.

"Sander!" Neira exclaimed, barely reaching up to Sandor's chest as she glared at him. He simply grinned back down at her, before gently pushing past her, towards the food.

"Hey!" Erin growled, stepping between Sander and the food. "You get served last okay? Or else there will be nothing left for us,"

"Fine," Sander rolled his eyes, but still leaned to glance over her shoulder at the food, eyes gleaming. Sander was tall, lean compared to most of the Illyrian warriors, his family wasn't that well off, and she wasn't sure he ever got a decent meal between his visits to their house. He was training to become a warrior, entering the Blood Rite that was less than two weeks away. Whenever he talked about it he would get the same hungry gleam in his eyes as he had now.

But Erin knew it wasn't bloodlust, no he only wanted to have purpose, to belong somewhere, show them that he could do it and prove his worth. Sandor was kind, and had been her first friend when she came to Ironvale. And probably the only decent male in this forsaken hellhole.

She never told him that though, it would probably hurt his little Illyrian male ego.

After some well meant quipping they all settled down at the table, fashioned to seat people with wings properly. Erin and Sander both wolfed their food down without taking a breath, while Neira rolled her eyes and ate slowly and delicately, like a proper lady.

Erin tried to ignored the way Neira's eyes traveled to Sander as he ate, resting on his clean shaved brown skin, sharp cheekbone and short cut hair, neatly tightly shaven at the side and longer at the top, casting shadows across his heavy eyelashes as he ate.

Neira's mouth had dropped slightly open, and Erin gave her a kick under the table.

"Ow," she let out, glaring back at Erin. Sandor barely glanced up, head still halfway into the bowl as he gazed between them.

"What?"

"Nothing," Neira quipped. "Eat you damned food."

Sandor grinned back wolfishly at Neira but gladly obeyed. Erin leaned back in the chair, finally thawing her cold muscles. And at this moment, listening to the bickering of her friends, food in her stomach and a warm bed waiting for her, she felt happy.

…

The next days went on in a similar fashion, hard work with the other unmarried and unmated females, the mated and married ones, and the ones of higher standing, where busy preparing for the Winter Solstice. Illyrian celebrated the longest night of the year by drinking to much, eating to much and fighting too much. They party always got out of hand, and her uncle hadn't let her or her cousin attend before, not that Erin had particularly wanted to. But the males were back from fighting in the war against Hybern, looking for women to take to their bed, to make wives or just for the night. And every female of marriable age was required to attend.

Erin glanced longingly at the males in the training field, trying to memorize the way they moved, the way they threw a punch or swung their blades. The High Lord wanted females to learn how to fight, and whenever he or one of his generals visited Ironvale the Lord, Gilron's father, would trow a few of the younger girls in the ring to pretend they were learning. Stuffing the rest of them into the laundry house or the kitchens in the meantime. Erin and the rest of the younger females hadn't received any of the training they where supposed to. She hadn't back at her old home either, her father had taught her some, but he'd been a blacksmith and not a warrior.

Sandor tried to teach her too, whenever they had a moment and could find a secluded space. Which wasn't often. He showed her the moves he'd learned, but they weren't easily adapted to her size, and it usually ended with bot of them frustrated and cursing at each other.

She was fairly good at archery though, and had a good aim, she could throw knife and hit the right target at a far distance, and she was quick. Sandor said she should use that, she was a hard target due to her smaller wings, she could probably outfly most of the warriors in the camp.

She thought about that as her gaze traveled across the males on the field, Sander was there, his face stern with concentration as he fought against a brute warrior twice his size, but held up surprisingly well. She felt a familiar burning gaze on her and turned to find Gilron, leaning against the fence, staring right back at her. His mouth was curled upwards, eyes glazed with a hungry gleam.

The same gleam most of the males in the camp had as the day wore on, and the festivities drew closer.

She was let go from her duties earlier than usual, told to go home and prepare. Get pretty and maybe catch the eye of a male.

The females had been gossiping all day, about which males they found the most attractive, the most admirable and the best warriors. And their wingspan.

The married and mated ones shared looks and smiled at them with knowing eyes, so extremely contented with themselves. They didn't have to maneuver these dangerous waters. Because it was dangerous, one wrong step and you were ruined. If you got pregnant and the male didn't acknowledge or claim the child, you were basically no one- lowest on the food chain. No more worth than a dog.

Erin had vowed long ago to never let that happen, not after what they did to her mother, and tried to push Gilron's hungry black eyes out of her head as she stomped home.

…

Erin and Neira where both clad in their finest coats, fur lined and not leather for once. Neira's was a lot nicer then Erin's, but she didn't care. Neira had pulled back the front of her hair in braid and let the rest cascade down her back, and even put a thin line of kohl across Erin's eyelids, and let her borrow some rouge. Not that they needed it in the cold, their cheeks and noses already flushed.

The camp square was already buzzing with life, a large fire crackling merrily and warming the people who drew near. Music was being played and ale and other alcoholic drinks had been passed around since noon.

Erin sipped on some hot cider, mostly to keep warm, she watched as the males glanced at Neira, lingering on her breasts, her hips and her backside. Animals. All of them. Erin pulled her coat tighter around her, trying to keep the chill air out.

After her uncle and aunt had disappeared to talk to the Lord Calum - Gilron's father, and his wife, Sander finally dared to show up. They left Neira with a few of her female friends as they headed for a calmer spot to drink their drinks in peace. There was none, and their usual spot was occupied by a couple doing… well something, as they walked by. Erin's face warmed, and Sandor spent a good half an hour teasing her about it.

"Oh shut up, it's not like you're such a 're here talking to me, instead of out charming the ladies." She finally countered.

"Ugh everyone is so on edge tonight, you'd probably get in a fight if you accidentally glanced in the same direction of a female someone else has their sight on" he groaned, glancing down at her.

"Why? Do you want me to leave you alone so you can find yourself a handsome warrior to sire your babies?"

"No thanks" she rolled her eyes, but walked closer to Sander. He didn't tease her, he knew why she kept close. He even let his wings brush casually against hers.

"Hey Sander!" One of his friends called, a group of young males sat together, eyeing Neira and her friends across the fire.

Sander glanced at her in question, and she shook her head. "You go ahead, I think I'm going to go home, I don't feel well."

"Do you want me to walk you home?" He said, but his friend called again.

"Nah, it's fine, it's really close."

"Okay, I'll see you tomorrow, or the day after that." He winked. Males didn't not have to work tomorrow. Females did. She growled at him as he sauntered away, his friends cheering in response.

She turned around and kept a frisk phase, it had grown dark, and even though the stars glimmered above the night felt heavy, threatening. She almost let out a sigh of relief as she came around the corner to her house, the brawling sounds of the festivities drowning away. The relief quickly turned to fear as she saw a dark figure leaning against the front of their door.

He spotted her before she had time to duck back into the shadows.

"Erin," his voice was raw, and she could smell the alcohol reeking off him as he was in front of her in seconds, his wings spread wide behind him and drowning out all light from the stars. He had her cornered, against a wall, on an empty street, on solstice.

She swallowed hard, and his eyes went to her lips with a predatory gleam as he stepped closer. She could feel the heat radiating from his body.

"You don't have to be afraid" he whispered hoarsely as he leaned against the wall, down towards her. "I promise I'll be careful, I know you haven't been with anyone before." His breath was hot on her neck.

"I'm waiting, for the bond, or for marriage," anything to avoid him, she placed a hand on his chest, brazing herself. "You know how it is" her voice strained. Panic was rising inside her chest, she was trapped, caged.

"You don't have to worry, I'm a Lord, I'll make sure nothing bad happens" his mouth closed on her neck, his lips hot and wet against her cold skin. Erin let out a noise of protest, but he grabbed her arms, pinning her against the wall tightly, his wings shielding them both from the rest of the world.

"Please Gilron don't-"

His hands started roaming, his breath coming faster as they grazed her small breasts as he pushed away her coat.

"I can't!" her voice grew louder, and she tried to fight him, but ha had her completely pinned against that wall. Fear was starting to freeze her muscles as he lowered his head towards her, forcing his lips on hers.

"What is going on here?" A familiar male voice cut trough the night, and Gilron froze. But he didn't step away. Erin was taking heavy breaths, trying to keep her fear in check as she gazed, wild eyed, over his wing, back at her uncle.

Something like disgust shone in his eyes, but his eyes traveled to Gilron, his lips in a thin line.

"Yes Crowley, is there a problem?" Gilron still had his hands resting on her stomach, her arm, barely unfazed. Something in her uncle seemed to flare, and he bared his teeth slightly.

"My niece is neither married nor mated to you, step away from her," he demanded with a growl.

If she hadn't been trembling with fear, hating every inch where her skin met Gilron's, she might have been proud that her uncle dared to growl at the Lord's vicious son. It seemed Gilron thought the same thing, and he let her go harshly, leaving her sagging against the wall as he stalked over towards her uncle.

Gilron had almost a head on her uncle, and towered over him too. But her uncle didn't step back as as Gilron showed his teeth with a feral smile.

"I'm going to remember this Crowley," he turned his head slowly, animalistic eyes raking across her body and finally settling on her face. "I'll see you later Erin."

Her name sounded so dirty coming from his mouth, and she felt sick through her very core as Gilron prowled away, back towards the celebration.

"Erin," her uncle's voice was hard, his eyes unforgiving as he focused on a spot beside her on the wall. "Get inside the house. Now."

"Yes uncle," she lowered her head quickly, not looking up as she trudged past him through the snow, fleeing into the house. He followed her inside, the house cold, no fire burning to warm it. The door fell shut, rattling the hinges.

"You will not speak of this, you will keep your head down, stay out of trouble and stay away from Gilron. You got it?" He growled, his jaw tense even in the darkness of the hallway. Erin nodded slowly.

"Yes uncle," she waited for a second for him to continue, but he was quiet and se took that as being dismissed and fled up the creaking stairs. She was shaking from head till toe as she slammed to door shut to the room she shared with her cousin.

Slowly, slowly she tried to control the shaking, keeping it from rattling the door as she sunk down to the floor, pulling her coat tighter around her. The cold seemed to have a permeant hold on her, and no matter how long she sat there, she couldn't get warm. But those places on her skin where he'd touched, kissed… they burned against the coldness.

She didn't know how long it had been as she heard Neira come up the stairs, and quickly got from the door, shuffling over to her bed and burying herself underneath the covers, coat still on, just as her cousin came in.

Erin finally fell asleep hours later, to the steady rhythm of Neira's breaths.

She dreamt of a cell, a cell completely drowned in darkness. She was strung up, pinned against the ground as shadows raked across her body, unable to move.

She woke up, cold clammy sweat covering her entire body, still feeling those shadows against her skin, replacing the burning Gilron's touch had left.

Authors note: So… I'm guessing some of you are like "Where the hell are our fav illyrians?!" And let me assure you, they will show up, with the rest of the inner circle. Also, what do you guys think? Is this worth continuing? I have good feeling about it, because I need something to keep my occupied until the next book. Also I really wanted to explore the life of an illyrian female, and thought it would be a good way to bring in an OC. So, I'd love to hear from you! Bye for now 3