Prologue

Prologue

 

Shaky breaths. Her legs screaming at her to stop.. To rest.. To give up, and each moment her lungs strained to get the oxygen needed for her desperate sprint for survival. Wobbling down the dimly-lit cobblestone street, with each bounce, her extremely pregnant belly sent a flood of agony through her back and chest. Simple, run-down houses stretched to either side, windows sealed closed to shut out the empty night. Down the street, a single lamp hanging outside of the local farm swung on gentle night wind as if no danger was lurking in the shadows.

 

She willed strength to her heart as if drawing strength from the little life depending on her to keep running. Flashes of the man’s threatening voice echoed through her head, “If you aren’t on a tonic to prevent children, you will be dead before you start showing” Somehow, somehow she had made it this far without him finding out about her baby, his baby. Until now.

 

Slowing slightly as waves of agony tore through her stomach and it almost dropped her to her knees. She reached in the pocket of her ratty, torn peasant’s dress for her scrap of leather and bit down on it to keep from screaming. Warm liquid ran down the inside of her legs and she wondered if it was blood or her water breaking. As she reached the old wooden door to the barn, she slammed her shoulder into the wood, splintering the thin piece of wood keeping it closed. Crying out, she fell to her hands and knees and half-shrieked through the leather as a wave of pain sent spots through her vision.

 

Moaning weakly, she dragged herself through the dirt, hay, and who knows what else to hide her enormous body behind a pile of hay that almost touched the barn ceiling. There was a tattered, faded blanket, draped on the pile, in between the hay and the barn wall and she sagged against it. Probably for lovestruck young adults when they want an hour alone or in-training escorts to be away from disapproving eyes. Shockwaves of pain rippled through her as her contractions started and she screamed.

 

The creak of the door she broke echoed in the empty barn and almost silent footsteps shifted pieces of hay against the stone floor. She froze, wincing with the pain as she ground her teeth shut to keep herself from crying out, her hands grasping her extended stomach. Something nudges her linen-wrapped foot and she looks over to see a brown leather boot. Letting her eyes drift up over the leather clad, toned assassin standing in front of her, her heart broke. Within her vision, she could see 4 knives, a crossbow across her back, and 8 to 10 bolts across her belt. Her head and face was covered by a mask and a hood but her cold, green eyes could still be seen. She seemed slightly taken aback that her target was a pregnant woman, but if caused her any hesitation or questioning, it wasn’t shown.

 

“No! Not my child!” She pleaded, desperately trying to push her swollen body as far back onto the hay as she could. Panic was ripping through her head, trying to think of anything to say or to do to save her baby.

 

The assassin cocked her head and glanced at her stomach, asking in a low, deep growl, “Are you Lily Adyra?”

 

Lily hung her head. In her heart, she knew, after months of running and hiding, they had found her.

 

A shattering scream ripped from her lips as contractions wrecked her body. The baby was here.