The smell of burnt oil and rotting fish hit me as I stepped out of the remains of the cathedral and my nose scrunched. I placed my hands over my face, blocking the still rising sun as my feet hit the damp cobblestone, wet with piss and the previous night's rainfall.

“FISHES FROM THE DARK WATERS!”

“MELONS! GET YOUR MELONS HERE!"

“ENCHANTMENTS FOR YOUR LOVERS!"

Crowds flocked down the pathway leading into the street where different stalls had already been set up. The voices of merchants rose filled the air as they shouted prices.

I groaned, staring back at the cathedral where the bloodied remains of Skaar's men still laid. Someone would have to take care of that, I thought to myself as I ran a hand through my sticky hair.

As I took another step, two kids raced by me, their mother shouting their names behind them. She almost bumped into me, turned to apologize, but her expression quickly turned to disgust as she hurried after her kids.

Did I really look that bad?

Ignoring her reaction, I turned toward the market when it dawned on me that everyone was staring, their face etched with the same expression the woman had.

“Oh, fuck off," I grunted, pushing past them as I walked away.

Mothers pulled their children away from me and some merchants even crossed themselves as though I was carrying a curse. Who could blame them, though? I was covered in dried blood, my hair was dirty, and the rag I had on barely covered me, the cut at the back exposing half my ass. To

I clutched my belly as it growled loudly. My insides churned with hunger and although I had the raw hell-power seething beneath my skin, my body was still weak. I craved food.

"Feed." Thrakos' voiced echoed through the walls of my mind. "You burn with my power, Kaelen, but your flesh must feed… unless you're willing to die before we get my vengeance."

"I have someone who can help with that," I murmured.

People turned, staring at me. I could tell they thought I was going mad, but I ignored them.

"She's on the other side of town," I continued, trying not to raise my voice. "I just need to find her. Maybe she can help." I didn't mention her name out loud. Didn't want Thrakos to dig into that.

"Then you'll need a ride. But first," Thrakos's tone dropped, "you'd need the Hell-blade. A sword made by my father's own hands, strong enough to gut a God down. If you want to kill my brother, you'd need the sword.”

“Yeah," I mumbled as I clutched my belly tighter. “But eat now, plan later."

The sweet smell of baked bread wafted through the air, greeting my nose. I turned, scanning the stalls for the source of the smell as my stomach growled louder.

For a moment, I contemplated stealing a loaf, but then I heard footsteps coming my way. I turned to find a guard walking my way.

“Shit."

"You," he growled, clenching his hand on the hilt of his sword. "You've been ordered out of the market. Nudity isn't allowed here."

"Nudity?” I asked, my brows squeezing into a frown. "But I'm not fucking na–" The cold sensation of the morning breeze against my ass shut me up instantly. “Sure," I grunted, "but I just need a ride east. To Viremoor."

He stepped closer, drawing his sword half out of the sheath. "Don't care where you're going. Move, or I'll move you."

My eyes dropped to the metal, then to the runes running up my arm. My vision turned red, my fists clenched.

"Kill him," Thrakos voice screamed. "Tear out his heart and eat his flesh. That would satisfy your hunger."

My fingers twitched. I could feel how easy it would be. A single swipe from my hell-chains were enough, but I swallowed the urge down.

"No trouble," I muttered, with a small smile as I nodded. "I'll take my leave now."

I turned away from the guard, trying my best to ignore the burn of his gaze on my back. Thrakos raged in my mind and my stomach screamed for food but I pushed them to the back of my mind.

I continued with my trekking until I came off the market square and onto the merchant district. Different carts and wagons loaded with fruits and caged animals flooded the street. My gaze swept the carts, searching for the most vulnerable. I just needed a distracted merchant or abandoned cart and my hunger would cease.

I hadn't walked for long when luck shone it's face on me.

Right at the corner of a stall was a merchant wagon—adorned, with two horses tied to its front. A fat man with grey, balding hair jumped down from it before entering a bright-red stall across the street, arguing about figs.

Here was my opportunity, and like the smart guy I was, I took it.

I sprinted, my robe flapping behind me like a shadow, before leaping onto the wooden edge of the cart. Quickly, I grabbed the leather reins and pulled it with all my might. The horses whinnied as they bucked forward.

“Go fucking faster," I said through clenched teeth as I cracked the whip.

"HEY!"

I turned to see the merchant running out of the red-stall, shaking his fist and raining curses at me on the top of his lungs.

"Thanks!" I shouted, grinning as the cart shot forward.

The wind stung my face, the dirt from the horses hooves biting at my skin as I whipped harder. But that moment was shortlived as I suddenly heard—

"STOP! YOU! STOP THAT CART!"

My grin faded. I turned around to see the same bloody godsdamned guard running down the lane, his sword up and his face red. Three other guards followed behind him, shouting the same orders.

"Shit," I growled.

The guard vanished into the distance, but not before other soldiers saw me, pointing and running to catch up with the cart.

"Stealing's not overlooked in Viremoor," Thrakos laughed.

"Yeah, I just noticed," I snarled through gritted teeth, cracking the reins again.

I was dirty, half-naked, and now on the run—wanted.

And the day hadn't even begun yet.