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 edges 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, who was staring at her with 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 phased. After all, this was the voice she had grown up with.

“I promise you, Betla.” She nodded her head. Why would she always tell her not to make a mistake? She had never made a mistake, had she? She moved a few steps away and stared directly into her mother’s blazing eyes. “I’ll take my leave now.” She didn’t wait for a response from her mother, because none had ever come. She was aware of her mother’s eyes roaming around her back as she walked around the shrubs and green grasses.

Aranya always felt free at the birth of the month because that was when she could move away from this castle, far away from Zinambra, and Betla always patiently waited for her to carry out her duty. After a few minutes of walking in the dark forest, she felt bored. She needed to make this journey lively. She howled, and the pitch of her voice echoed through 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 it would 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 was even been darker there and wondered why. There was never a darker or scarier place than Zinambra. Shrugging 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 these fifteen days to enjoy 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 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 that. Aranya needed something to eat. She had been walking for the past hour in the dark forest, and she needed something to keep her strong. There were shops around, but they were all closed. She knew she had to break into 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 person to speak to was her mother, who solely found peace in her life. 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 upon. That had always worked. Not even a woman could ignore a smile from Aranya. She walked to the nearest shop.

“Good morning,” she greeted the shopkeeper with a smile. She was aware of the looks he was flashing her. He wasn’t around the age she wanted, otherwise she would have said he was the one.

“Good morning, how may I help you?” he asked, moving to where she was. 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, and 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.” 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 her name the first time they met her.

As he said, she met the fishermen on their way to the river, and she silently followed behind them until the river came into view. She grinned widely. She had always loved rivers. She moved over to a stone and sat down as she brought her knees up to her chest and hugged them. She had always had a sophisticated aura around her, but around a river, her aura was at its 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 evening, when she was sure everyone had left for their houses and rushed to the river. She took 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 was completely emerged in it. She took a huge breath when she felt herself completely in 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. When she came up for air, she found a pair of eyes staring right into hers. She didn’t know when she screamed! “What are you doing here?!” she yelled, paddling away from those eyes.

Nothing had ever scared her in her life, but right now, those eyes did. She had never seen eyes so brown that she might call them maroon—no, the color of blood. Seeing that he hadn’t taken his eyes off her, she moved to the edge of the river 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 bloody eyes of this man.

She perched on the stone beside her and turned away from him, hugging her knees to her chest. She was a bit startled when she saw that he was 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 to her to give her some time to get dressed.

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 were fixed so 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 with a tone of power and something else that 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 maneuvered 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.

She hissed softly. If she wanted, she would have said this was the man she was waiting for. This would be her hunt for this month, but he was not her type. It was hard to even stay a few seconds around him because he irritated her. And his bossy attitude? It made her cringe. 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 said through gritted teeth, using her other hand to pull away the wet hair sticking to her face.

“Tell me your name,” he asked again. What? Did he feel that he was too powerful to be shunned by someone?

She flung her hand away from him, looked directly into his bloody eyes, and hissed before she walked away. He would have done this to many girls and got what he wanted, but certainly not Aranya.