Page 8 of Sands of Atonement

My skin had gotten used to the soft, cool air. My color had paled over the years. Mongah was a blanket of greenery, luscious woods, and peaceful, gift-bearing people who, no matter how much I didn’t want them weaving into my heart, did. If I were anyone else, I would live my life out there in the greenest land I’d ever seen, be by their side, grow my own food, meditate, and live in peace. But alas, I was not just anyone.

A shaking sound sputtered from somewhere below me. I froze, my body sinking deeper into the white sands. It was here. My mind screamed at me to run, but I couldn’t—that was exactly what the Silver Snake would want me to do.

It loved a challenge.

The Silver Snake, known to reside within the sands, was one of the deadliest creatures in the desert. My heart raced, pumping, begging me to go, go, go. Once stung by the Silver Snake, also known as the Lover’s Bite, a euphoric sensation would last for a few hours before the poison knocked on the victim’s heart and stole the life they once had. One wouldn’t know the person had the bite until it was too late. There was no remedy after receiving the bite—no cure to prevent the inevitable death.

Where was it? My eyes searched the sea.

With steady hands, I reached for the dagger that hung on my belt. I saw the wind curling on a sand drift, but there was no wind. I wasn’t afraid of it—I wasn’t afraid of death. I was afraid of dying before I could do what I came to do.

The dagger within my palm swung in the direction of the sand’s wave, and I felt the next dagger in my other hand. I snapped that one toward the gray snake that violently lifted its body to the surface, slithering and seeking.

I reached for my sword across my back and stepped forward. The snake saw me and started in my direction. I had hit it, and it grew angry.

Good. I was angry, too.

Silver blood leaked down the sands. I demanded more.

The snake disappeared into the sand.

Fucker. God, I hated these stupid games.

I twisted my body slowly, tiptoeing as much as I could on the soft, pillowy sands.

A small wave that looked almost natural appeared to the right of me. I stepped closer, breathing controlled. My legs grew heavy, almost on the verge of shaking with each step.

The bite would be so faint, so unnoticeable. I wouldn’t even know I had the bite if I weren’t aware of my surroundings. It was soft, like a Lover’s Bite.

Not today.

I twisted once more and slammed my sword down in the sand. The snake jumped. Before it was completely out on the surface, I rammed my boot on its spine, swung my sword around once before ending the point of it on the neck of my victim.

“But perhaps another time,” I grunted against my scarf.

Silver blood splattered against the tip of my sword and boot as I picked up its decapitated head.

“Well done.”

I spun around and saw several robed men on horseback. Dark blue linen covered their tan bodies with black hoods around their heads. My body went rigid.

Brestians. God. What did they want?

The man leading the group cleared his throat and lowered his scarf and black hood. “We don’t witness the death of a Silver Snake often.”

My breath nearly escaped me. His eyes… They were white. No, that wasn’t right. Against the desert sun, they did look devoid of color, but with my vision refocused after the scare, I could see that they were green. I tilted my head. He had brown hair with sun-kissed blonde strands spread throughout. A razor-sharp jawline, straight nose.

No, he wasn’t human.

A god.

There was something inhuman about him, to be sure.

The man was perhaps in his early to mid-thirties and had a shaven face as per the custom of Brestians. He held himself high on the horse. He might have even been handsome if he didn’t have the eyes of a death god. Maybe it wasn’t the color, but something was void inside those eyes. They sharpened on mine.

Taking in the information, I knew I should lower my scarf because it symbolized openness and friendliness, but… I wasn’t in the mood to be friendly or jeopardize my gender.

I cleared my throat to lower my voice. “Keep it.” I turned my ankle and walked.