I enter the forest, not daring to look over my shoulder, afraid I'll find Adar looking at me, halting my resolute. How could this day go from friendly, yet feisty sparring and fierce fucking to unrestrained rage and raving bloodlust in mere hours? Ending in a love declaration suited for sinners? We're both honed from darkness, yet lovers of light, yielding to lust. Our love is as twisted as our past and as unfolding as the future. Burning, blistering, beseeching.

Adar's an enigma, and I hardly know anything about him, but I know enough that I would die for him to save him. That night in the forest, I could have done the same for Feiron, but I was commanded to save myself, and I heeded. The wargs weren't sent as a warning, they were sent as an assassination. A doomed battle I would eventually rise from a shadow of death. A weapon to counter the bloodbath they caused that very dark night.

Weeks passed before I was able to take off the ring Feiron had given me, putting it on a chain around my neck. I had hoped the utter loss of him, and what I felt was betrayal, having obeyed his last command that resulted in his demise, hanging so close to my heart, would help me wither into nothing. But it didn't. It fueled my dark side. I didn't wither. I grew stronger. More fierce. More feral.

I do not recognize myself, the elf I once was. If I ever was. The elf I was trying to be for him. For my knight. I've morphed into someone fit for our fiend. Fit for Adar, a warrior wrought from wrath and hellfire, and I simmer for his soul. How I've melted into him, this son of the dark, letting his touch and shadowy whispers guide me to fulfill my true potential; to claim my side beside him, my one true love. I knew it the moment I saw him. My heart hammering in my chest, of fear, yes, but also out of instant attraction. There he was. And I did not have to pretend any longer. He saw my raw, immoral yearning, and craved it.

---

I risk looking over my shoulder, feeling someone's presence. Adar knows I have to do this. And I have to do this alone. And when I turn, I am; only the trees' and my own shadow for company.

Walking on I wonder yet again how a day can go from lustful love to spiteful strife and an all-consuming rage for retribution; the revelation of the wargs breaking the bliss we so much need. The trail of death we've left behind us is endless; first, my company and my betrothed were massacred by Adar's wargs. Then Adar's children, stricken down by my anger in the night. And now, if I get my way; Scara, the warg that murdered Feiron, will be slain by my blades.

I think about all the countless ways I will make the beast suffer. I will skin her, stab out her eyes, elongate her pain as much as I can. She might mean something to Adar, but to me, she's a vile unnatural thing whose monstrous paws and lethal maw should not walk and feast on this earth. She will become dirt, mere dust on the wind. I will burn her corpse and her ashes will be an ominous whisper to all who dare threaten me and my love. I see no race, only menace in every shape and form. If someone or something can kill I will raise my sword and fight back. It's in my nature. Adar's blood might run black, but so is my heart.

---

My fury after discovering the wargs, that they've been kept on the outskirts of the camp, and down in the tunnels, that they've torn apart men, women, and children and eaten their flesh and gnawed at their bones, has started to simmer down. Learning of Adar's betrayal, that he's been keeping them covert from me, almost broke me. When I realized he was the one to send them hunting and killing my company, an illusion shattered. He talked about having my rage over hidden lies before I stalked into the forest, but he's the one who's been keeping secrets. Lying to me. I love him so much it hurts, and I hate it. I should hate him. But what would I have done in his stead? Told the truth? Or murmured sweet lies? Only, I know he loves me too. And he, like I probably would, did everything to keep me from finding out, from doing what I am about to do; to let my shadow fall dark and hard on a hideous beast.

I stop underneath a big tree, its branches hanging low and hiding me from view. I need to get myself together, to ready myself for a fight to death. Scara's or mine. I fasten the bone corset tight around my waist, it's confinement bracing me for the impact I know is imminent. I braid my hair in a thick braid, letting it hang down my back. I check my weapons, re-sheathing them, but halt a dagger halfway on its way back to the strap around my leg when I realize it's not mine. In my anger, I've managed to grab one of Adar's daggers. The one he pressed against my neck when we sparred earlier today. I run my finger along the ragged edge, cutting myself. I suck on my finger, the taste metallic and salty. Suddenly I imagine Adar's the one sucking on my finger, scraping his teeth along it, nipping at the tip. I visualize his dark, lusty look, and the way he stares at me when he wants me. The ways he's had me.

I shake my head. It's not the right time to let my lascivious mind run wild. That Uruk will be the death of me if I can't control the way he constantly makes me feel. I can't believe how deep my desire for him runs, even deeper than his betrayal.

---

I take in my surroundings, the tracker in me alert. Something in the wind's not right, its scent faintly rotten, which can only mean one thing; flesh and bones lie rotting somewhere close. And where there's death, there's a predator nearby.

On silent feet, I edge closer, telltale claw marks and paws on the ground. The strong stench of something decaying, and a visible splatter of putrid blood on leaves and trunks, tells me I've found the prowling demon's lair.

But the demon has also found me.

Like on the night my company was killed, she came without a warning, the stench of her victims camouflaging the scent of the hound itself.

Her snarl sends chills down my spine, and I freeze, unable to move. I will die tonight.

She's at my back, I can feel her hot breath on my arm. Why hasn't she attacked?

"Scara," I say, finally able to move. I turn around slowly to face her. "You smell him on me, don't you?" I can tell she does, Adar's scent is the only thing still keeping me alive.

I face her fully, the werewolf, the vicious monster who's been terrorizing my dreams.

"You killed my betrothed," I say to her. "You upended my life. Your maw obliterated my future. It was blessed with light, but you snuffed it out with one deadly pounce." I stare Scara down, and she me. The warg's foaming at the mouth.

"You stole," I start saying. "You stole..." What did she steal? Until that night I thought Feiron was my destiny, the road I was meant to travel. Slowly I start realizing that the past journey I've been on was never meant for me. I wasn't meant to be taught how to love someone, and how to be accepted. I know how it is to love someone, to be fully accepted, darkness and all. My wicked soul called out to him, and he answered. Through death and destruction, new life shall spring, and twisted love shall bloom. And I'm a black rose, thorns and all, cutting and drawing blood. But so many have died by the edge of my thorny blades, his children... Which I now consider my new-found friends and family...

Scara feels my inner turmoil, the flaring vengeance steaming from my every pore. And then the profound shift; thoughts of vicious vengeance disappearing, heavy shadows lifting from my shoulders, and my inner guard falling hard. And with the extreme shifting of spirit, I fall to my knees. "I am depraved," I state. Scara gowls, but not in a threatening way. She approves. "All this time I thought your slaughter kept me captive from moving on, but I've been free all along. You set me free. I came into my own. The merciless assassin always lurking in the shadows. I am free." Tears of relief stream down my face, my heart fully mending. No amount of death and betrayal will ever be able to break it again. I will endure no matter what. And I choose a darker journey.

Scara sits down, her black eyes softening to a less intimidating shade of scare. She understands. She knows where my heart truly lies, and who holds my soul's allegiance. Adar, the son of the dark. My heru; lord and master of my dark future and deepest desires.

"Let's go and find Lord Father, shall we?" I ask Scara. The warg lets out a huff while getting up, approaching me slowly. She lets my hand touch her head. "Thank you," I say to her. "For opening my cage that night. Long I've been too blind to see what you did for me, what I did to myself... What I had to do to myself. Sometimes you must drink the poisonous dark to tolerate the dark, and I can finally stand myself, thorns and all."

I get up, ready to head back to camp, Scara by my side. But we're not alone anymore. In the shadows stands a tall, lithe being I know like the back of my hand.