Start of the end

Loud scream echoes through the dark night. Ominous birds fly up from the bare trees and disappear into the dark night. Abruptly, Alana opens her eyes and lifts her head from the wet, cold gravel. "Ah" she whispers and places her hand on her throbbing forehead. The icy water has frozen most of her dress. She still doesn't fully understand what just happened. Or rather, she doesn't want to understand... She only knows one thing... Katinka needs her! With a growl, she straightens herself. The cool winter sun, slowly creeping over the horizon, reflects off the swirling river. Her legs protest convulsively as she makes her way through the snow. A black falcon closely follows her high in the sky. Alana's stomach cringes when she sees the front door. A brute force has kicked open the sturdy wooden door. "Mother" she roars loudly and runs into the house with big steps. "Mother" Alana yells again and pushes open the bedroom door.

Mother" she repeats softly entering the warm room. "Alana" whispers mother weakly. Hopelessly the woman tries to breathe. The soft carpet under her was once white. Now it is smeared with mother's blood. "Mother" Alana screams startled and kneels beside her. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry" whispers mother. Alana whispers soothingly and takes a cloth from the bed. She gently presses the linen on the gaping neck wound. "Alana" whispers mother and grabs Alana's wrist." Don't trust.. that boy.. " she whispers weakly and drops her head on the discolored carpet. Alana looks at her mother incomprehensibly. "Mother" she asks scared. Mother's lifeless eyes stare aimlessly at the ceiling. "Please don't leave me behind" Alana begs crying. "Who's the boy? Which boy do you mean? Mother I'm sorry" she whispers crying. This is her fault. Just as Katinka was her fault...

A dull sound of approaching footsteps echoes down the dark hallway. Alana looks up through her tears. She quickly wipes the tears from her face and stares at the door. Was Hate coming? Or was it Rodehanthe? Or were the robbers returning? She quickly jumps up and hides in the wardrobe. Afraid to be noticed, she peeks through the gap that forms between the closet doors. Adrenaline races through her veins as Hate slowly walks in. No, this is not possible. This is a dream she thinks fearfully. Please let it be a dream she wishes. He smiles and looks at the corpse. Nervously, Alana tries to hold her breath. Maybe he doesn't know she's here. He pulls the sheets off the bed with brute force. He knows she thinks and places her hand over her lips. He kneels slowly and peers under the bed. His chain mail tinkles when he stands up again. Lost in thought, he stares through the icy window. Alana looks fascinated at the black leather belt that is tight around his muscular stomach. He keeps the dark coat of arms neatly in place. His dark gaze shifts slowly to the closet. Alana shivers scared and slides back silently. A smile curls around his lips. He walks slowly to the oak dresser. Alana realizes she has nowhere to go. Tears sparkle in her eyes. Her breath catches when he opens the closet. "No," she begs crying. Hate ruthlessly drags her out of the closet without a reply. "Let go of me" she orders, fighting against his strong arms. He smiles effortlessly and drags her chest against his. "Come on Alana, doesn't your daddy get a hug", he mocks contemptuously and takes her wrists. Not knowing what to answer, Alana looks at the short stubble that adorns his jaws. Protesting, she tries to escape his stronghold. "No," she begs again. She looks at the graceful sword that adorns his hip. The red Fleur de Lisse that adorns the round silver top shines in the weak sunlight. With a quick movement, Alana closes her hands around the handle neatly finished with black leather, and pulls the weapon from its brown leather holder. He looks at her with a smile. "What are you going to do?" he asks slowly in a deep voice. Alana bravely points the heavy weapon at him. "What do you really want?" Smiling, he steps closer until the sharp point punctures his chest. The knight smiles again. "This is a dream" she whispers. "No, it isn't," he replies softly. "They call them the seven," Alana suddenly recalls. Is he alone here? "What have you done with Rodehanthe?" "Think about it," he jokes. Hate begins to chuckle. "No", Alana whispers and abruptly drops the weapon with her thoughts on Rodehanthe. The innocent blacksmith was one of his many victims. And why? Because he loved Alana? Because Alana loved him? Hate grins as the weapon clatter down. "What exactly where you going to do?" he mocks. Haunted by her own panic, Alana runs into the hallway. Startled, she screams when he places his hand on her shoulder. "Did you really think it would be that easy?" Hate asks teasingly, placing his arm around her slim waist. She pleads and tries to push him away. Laughing, Hate grabs her wrists again. "Give it up little one," he whispers teasingly. He drags her back against his chest and rests his chin on her shoulder. The stubble stings her skin. "Please, I know nothing" she cries. Hate chuckles and pushes her chest against the wall. "Not yet" he replies, and stands against her. Alana turns her head anxiously. "I ... I don't know what you're talking about," she shivers. Hate laughs. "You really have no idea about that damn sword, don't you" he grins and runs his finger over her cheek. Alana shivers under his touch. "No, really," she whispers and closes her eyes. Hate smiles and kisses her neck slowly. "No" Alana cries hopelessly and opens her eyes again. She looks suspiciously at the thick cotton wall that adorns the round collar of his chain mail. "Please Hate, you made a mistake! I'm not who you think I am". He smiles and rubs her cheek. Alana looks at the silver ring on his finger.

Hate laughs foully and sinks his teeth into her neck. He roughly bites her skin open. Alana takes a deep, startled breath and opens her eyes abruptly. "Stop," she begs again, crying. Helplessly she tries to get away from him. The grip on her wrists tightens as he sucks her blood. It seems like this turns him on. Slowly he lifts his head and licks his lips "Why" she asks in a whisper. Hate laughs and grabs her body. Without a reply, he throws her to the ground. Alana growls angrily. Warm blood appears on her forehead. "Because" starts Hate and kneels down next to her. "I want to," he continues. Laughing, he drags her up again. Crying, Alana closes her eyes as he pushes her against the mirror. Loudly the mirror glass breaks beneath her. Weakened, Alana falls to the ground. She bravely gathers her courage and stretches out her fingers. Unnoticed, she holds a shard in her hand. Hate laughs and pulls her up again. Alana slides the shard through his face in a swaying motion. Hate abruptly drops her back to the ground, causing the bloody shard to clatter to the ground. A slash adorns his cheek. Hissing, he takes a step back and places his hand on the injury. Dizzy, Alana crawls on her hands and knees. She has to warn Jasper. He is all she has left. Hate growls and grabs her arm. He pulls her against him again and looks in her eyes. Her lip trembles. He chuckles and comes closer to her ear. "You want to know why? Cause I want to play with you. I want to break you" he whispers softly. Tears rolled out of her eyes. Why can't this be another wicked dream? A sudden fit of anger and bravery boils inside her veins. She kicks her knee in his cross, followed by his stomach. "Asshole" she groans and escapes his grasp.

Before Hate can grab her, she jumps up and heads for the staircase. She hurries down the cold step, looking closely over her shoulder.