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"You've done it now, Red. You're as good as dead, you know that, don't you?" He tilts his head at me. "But if you stop this right now and let me take you in the dirt like the animal you are," he sneers, the amusement vanishing, "maybe I'll let this go, won't report it to my father. Otherwise..." His eyes cut over my shoulder, to the woods behind me.
Oh gods, he's right. No amount of dealing from Duncan will get me out of stabbing the Head of Council's son, no matter how justified. What have I done?
But I will not let him touch me—like the animal I am. No, I'd rather die than let him get within a foot of me ever again. I glance behind me and a terrible idea springs to my mind.
No...we don't go in the woods...
But I'll be sentenced there soon enough anyway if I stay. If I run now, maybe I can make it through them unscathed before the full moon, maybe I can even find my grandmother's house. I don’t know exactly where she lives—Haven’s exact location isn’t widely known, just that it’s on the far side of the forest—but the woods can’t be that vast, can they? Surely I could find it somehow, or at the very least when I got close enough, those within would be alerted and someone would want to question me? They must have sentinels guarding the borders. I don't know why she decided to leave me with Duncan all those years ago instead of taking me in herself, but would she truly turn me away if I found my way to her doorstep?
I glance back at Thomas and he smiles, laughing again at my impossible situation. That sets my mind. I turn and run, scooping up my basket on the way.
"Red! What are you doing!? Stop!" Thomas' yells echo around me, but I don't slow. If I go into the woods now, I might die. If I go at the full moon, I will die. My only real chance is to run now and just pray to the gods that the Beast truly does slumber until the full moon rises. Thankfully, Thomas doesn't follow—too afraid of the forest. I slow when I get close to the gate and spare a glance over my shoulder. Thomas is on his feet now, looking bewildered and confused, as if he can't believe his favorite toy has just been taken away. I'm sure he expected me to cower at his threat, let him do whatever he wanted to me in hopes that he didn't tell his father. I meet his gaze and throw my shoulders back. Not today. Not ever. I would rather be ripped to pieces by the Beast than let Thomas touch me.
I silently say goodbye to the only home I've ever known. I hope that Duncan can find someone else to help him around the inn. I hope that Kieran is happy when he does finally choose a wife. I hope that Thomas gets what he deserves someday. I hope that I haven’t just made the worst decision of my life.
I turn to face the woods once more and hold my breath as I step through the gate.
Chapter 3
Though I doubt anyone would venture into the woods to follow me, especially not Thomas, I don't stop running until I can't even see the high wall surrounding the village anymore. Only then do I slow and allow what I've done to really crystalize in my mind. I've left my home, never to return. I've come into the woods with no idea where to go or what to do. Though I don't see anything, I do feel a strange crackling energy in the air. Like Duncan said, there is something...wrong about these woods. I'd always thought that something out here was calling to me, but in this moment, I realize how stupid and crazy I've been. My heart is beating too fast and sweat breaks out over my skin despite the chill in the air. I glance up, wondering if snow is on the horizon. I pull my cloak tighter around me, thankful that Thomas didn't rip it from my body during his attack. He did rip the fastenings on my bodice, so it's difficult to tie the two sides of the fabric back together again to cover myself, but I manage. Somewhat.
Though the air of malevolence remains, the woods are actually quite beautiful. The trees are large and proud, their trunks deep, rich browns that complement the green that seems to be everywhere. I'd thought everything would be dead and crumbling this late into the season, but moss grows along the forest floor and up the sides of many of the trees and boulders, giving everything a slightly furry look. Ferns and fronds provide patches of lighter green to break up the bold darkness. Even a few scarlet roses have battled the oncoming cold and come out victorious, thriving in bushes here and there, their thorns thick and warning. I spy berries in brambles along the way, but can't be sure that they're safe to eat, so I leave them be. I'm not actually hungry in any event, but habits of scraping for food at every opportunity are difficult to break.
I walk and walk, with no idea of where I'm going. I hear branches cracking in the distance and still. Even if the Beast does only come on the full moon, I know that there are other animals in these woods. A wolf or bear or cougar would be happy to make a meal of me. I walk on, hoping I'm getting further from the sound, though it's hard to tell—the thick trees are a bit disorienting, seeming to throw and distort sounds. I finally need a break and sit on small boulder, petting the soft moss with a tiny smile. A furry rock. I reach into my basket, thankful I was able to snatch it before I ran, and grab an apple. The juice is sweet and soothing, and my eyes slide closed as I allow myself a moment to enjoy the simple luxury of eating the fruit. Only a moment.
I walk for hours more before I see a stone wall, partially covered in ivy. My heart leaps and I rush towards the small building. Could this be it? Could I have found her already? I reach the structure and realize that it is the only wall that remains standing—the rest of the home has been completely destroyed. A few crumbling stones remain here and there, and I believe I can make out the remnants of a chimney, but not much else. I squint at what is left of the hearth. Are those...claw marks in the stone? I shudder and back away. I was silly to think this could be her home anyway. Haven is an entire settlement of the most obscenely wealthy and warded by what must be one of the most powerful witches in existence. Of course I couldn’t just stumble upon it so easily.
I walk on because there's nothing else I can do. I come across several other destroyed homes as I journey through the trees, but from the way ivy has begun to grow over the remains, it seems as if they'd been toppled long ago as well. Again, I tell myself that I’ll soon come across homes that are standing. Homes with people. Homes that will mean my salvation.
I wonder how many hours of daylight could possibly remain and I begin to tremble as a thought rises: I have no idea what to do come nightfall. I've never been on my own like this before, left to fend for myself against the elements and predators. The life that Duncan saved me from flashes through my mind and I'm ashamed that I wasn't more appreciative of all he did for me, wasn’t more grateful when I'd had the chance to be. Despite the uneasy relationship between us, I owed him my life—a life that would be ending all too soon if I didn't find my way out of these damned woods or at the very least, shelter for the night.
I thought that I'd been following the sun, as best I could anyway with how it was hidden by the trees or clouds for a lot of the journey, but now I believe I must have strayed from the path a time or two. I pass two trees that have fallen across each other, forming a large X for what I think is the third time. I feel tears spring to my eyes and the feeling of defeat settles heavily on my back. This was so stupid. Why did I think I could do this? Was freezing to death or being attacked by an animal really a better fate than being sentenced to death by the Beast on the full moon? At least that attack would be quick I imagine, no real suffering. I think I've made a terrible mistake, one that can't be undone. I'd always been accused of being a bit hot-headed and acting without thought. Right now, I can't argue with it. But I had to act! I didn't have time to think things through, make a list of positives and negatives in my mind. I was being attacked! I press my shoulders back.
"No. I did what I had to do. I'll figure it out somehow. I always do."
I scrub the back of my hand across my eyes, forcing the tears away, when I hear another cracking sound in the underbrush behind me. I still, straining my ears, and this time, I hear more movement. Something is nearby—something big. I try desperately to remember the lessons Kieran had tried to give me about encounters with animals. You run from wol
ves but not bears...or is the other way around? I think you're meant to play dead with something...right? Instincts kick in and the lessons don't matter: I run as fast as I possibly can. I hear whatever it is crashing through the trees and bushes after me. Oh gods. The Beast. It's found me, it's going to rip me to shreds! My heart is beating too fast, pounding against my chest like a drum, echoing in my ears. I dare a glance over my shoulder and see a hulking dark shape, though it doesn't seem to be three times the size of a normal wolf to me. Still big enough to tear your hide in two, I remind myself. I whip my head forward again and will my legs to move faster. I slip several times on the leaves and moss, slick with dew. I grit my teeth and curse under my breath. This would be much easier with newer boots with better soles, but wishing for such things now won't save me. Will anything? Terror grips me like a vice. I could die. This very moment could be my last one on this earth.
No! I press forward even faster, somehow managing to stay upright and out of the thing's jaws—for the moment. I skid to a stop when I realize that I've run right into a jagged rock-face. The foot of a small mountain? I had no idea there were mountains or cliffs here in the woods. A thick fog hangs heavy over the forest at all times and hides far too many of its secrets.
I put my back to the stone, determined to face whatever is coming for me. If I'm going to die, I'm going to look death in the eyes. I don't think it will do much good, but I pull the small knife I'd used on Thomas and hold it in front of me. The dark shape eases into the small clearing. Though it is a wolf, I don't think this is the Beast of legend. It's large, though not even the largest wolf I've seen prowling through the forest when I've sat in the tree beside the wall, and its eyes are a golden yellow, not red. Of course, the accounts from so long ago could be completely false and this could be the Beast I suppose, but I know deep in my heart that this creature would not have terrified an entire village enough to sacrifice it's citizens to it each month. No, this is just a regular wolf...a regular wolf that is still entirely capable of ripping me apart with ease. The knife begins to shake wildly in my hand as fear sends my entire body to trembling.
It stalks forward and pulls its lips away from its fangs, a low snarl rumbling deep in its chest. I press farther against the stone, feeling the jagged edges digging into my back. Though I told myself I would face death, I turn my head and squeeze my eyes shut as the wolf growls loudly and leaps towards me. I don't even scream, the sound unable to move past the tightness in my throat. I hear a strange whistling, a thunk, a high pitched keening yelp, and then a thud. Somehow, my throat hasn't been ripped out by the wolf's snapping jaws. I ease my eyes open and turn my head to find the wolf's lifeless body lying in a heap just in front of me, an arrow protruding from its neck. My brows draw down in confusion when a low, gravelly voice rings out in the eerie silence.
"Hello, Red."
I whip my head to the left to see a tall man leaning casually against a tree, a bow held loosely in his right hand. How does he know my name? I wonder...and then realize that he's merely commenting on the color of my cloak. It's one of those moments when I forget that it isn't really my name. He's tall and well-built, his clothing molding tightly around his muscled physique. I've never seen anyone who looked so...sturdy before. Despite the cold, he isn't wearing a coat. In fact, he isn't even wearing a tunic with long sleeves, though he does have a cloak pinned over one shoulder, flowing out elegantly behind him. The muscles in his arms flex and bulge and I would bet that he could have taken the wolf down with his bare hands if he'd wanted, the bow completely unnecessary.
My eyes travel from his arms to his face and I suck in a sharp breath—he's the most attractive man I've ever seen. His features aren't soft and beautiful (in a masculine way) like Kieran's are, but rugged and dangerous and absolutely breathtaking. He has a square jaw, covered in dark stubble, cheekbones that look as if they've been chiseled out of stone, and eyes a dark, stormy blue, as I imagine the sea must look during a tempest. His features are rough-hewn and he doesn't seem to care much about the way he dresses, but even so, there is an air of nobility about him. Perhaps in the way he holds himself, tall and proud. He has dark hair that looks to be a mix of black and brown, falling to his chin in a shaggy, unruly fashion. A few strands tumble across his forehead in a way that makes my fingers itch to smooth it back...or run my fingers through it and pull his face to mine. What a strange thought to have in a situation like this. I shake myself and straighten, though I don't lower the knife. He eyes it, but doesn't comment—or seem concerned.
"What are you doing out here? And alone at that. Have you no’ heard? These woods are dangerous.” His lips curl in amusement, his brogue making me shiver in a way that has nothing to do with the cold. “You ken a crazed Beast lurks somewhere nearby with an appetite for human flesh, no?" The smile remains, but there's a strange bite to the words.
"I...I was trying to find my grandmother's house," I say in a breathless voice. I clear my throat before I continue. "She lives within the woods...I think. I was hoping to find her, if she's still alive..." I'm babbling, which is not something that ever happens to me. Something about this man makes me nervous. Rightfully so! I tell myself silently, just look at him!
He raises a dark brow at that. "You dinnae ken where she lives? Or even if she lives? And you thought the day before the full moon was a fine time tae go exploring alone?" I swallow and square my shoulders.
"Of course I know she's alive, I-I misspoke, and I'm well aware of where she lives. She is a resident of Haven.”
He arches a dark brow at that. “Have you been there before? Tae Haven?”
“Well...no, not exactly, but I...I know it’s at the far end of the forest..." I'm floundering and we both know it. "I’ll find it,” I say, thrusting my shoulders back. “But what I'm doing here and why is none of your business, sir.” I brush hair back from my face, realizing I’ve got leaves and twigs stuck in the strands. His lips twitch once more, as if he’s fighting a smile. I toss the debris to the ground with as much force as I can muster.
A quick look of pity crosses his features. “These woods are far more vast than they appear, lass. The far edge of the forest is no’ close. Mayhaps you should turn around and just go home. Send word to your grandmother instead.”
If only I could. Can the edge of the forest truly be so far away? I bite my lip, worrying yet again that I’ve made a huge mistake, but then shake myself. It doesn’t matter. I have no other choice. I must push on.
“Thank you for saving me from that wolf and I promise that I will return one day to repay you for your kindness, but I must be on my way. As you said, the full moon is tomorrow and I need to find—I mean, reach—my grandmother by then." I don't think he's fallen for my attempt to sound assured of myself and my journey, but I don't care.
He looks truly amused now. Though he doesn’t actually smile, his lips do curl up at the edges.
"If she's alive, that is,” he mocks. I press my lips into a hard line, ignoring his jibe, and ease to the side to pick up my basket, amazed that I'd held it through the pursuit by the wolf.
"What are you doing out here?" I drop my voice to mimic his low, rough timber and accent. "Have you no’ heard? The woods are dangerous."
He barks out a laugh at that and then seems startled by the sound, as if he's never heard it before. "I do no’ fear the Beast," he says simply. Before I can press further on that, he juts his chin towards the basket. "And what do we have there? Treats for granny, I suppose?"
"Supplies for the journey of course," I lie, attempting to act as if I’d actually prepared for this trip, not just run headlong into the woods with no real thought or plan. I straighten my cloak self-consciously again and he follows the motions like a hawk. His eyes dip to my chest where the broken laces of my bodice are doing a half-hearted job of covering my breasts and he clenches his jaw. My heart begins to beat wildly as memories of Thomas flood through my mind. He immediately forces his eyes upwards, as if embarrassed that he let them wander to begin
with and I feel myself relax slightly. I've learned to read men in my life and this one does not seem to be the kind to take what he wants from a woman without permission. Most men would have taken the opportunity to stare openly at my broken bodice, to the swells of my breast clearly visible through the broken strings. Not this man.
His eyes narrow when they reach my throat and anger floods his expression. My brows draw down in confusion. Why is he angry?
"What happened tae your neck, lass?" He pushes off the tree and takes a few large strides towards me. I reflexively flinch backwards. He stops immediately and I ease forward once more, letting him know that I'm not afraid. I'm not sure if it's a lie or truth. Part of me is afraid of him—he's a huge man who is obviously deadly with a bow, and I'm alone with him in the woods. Anyone would be afraid of him in this situation. But the other part of me is...intrigued by him, intensely attracted to him, and has a strange longing to close the distance between us and trail my fingers along his jaw, feel the stubble against my skin, mesh my lips with his and discover his taste. I frown, trying to force that part of myself to quiet. I've always been a bit reckless, especially when it comes to my more...animalistic urges, but this is ridiculous!
I bring my hand up to my throat and find the cut that Thomas made with the knife. It's larger than I'd thought and I realize that my neck has a thick stripe of dried blood upon it.
"I...I must have gotten scratched by a branch when I was running." This man doesn't need to know that I was attacked a few hours ago and barely defended myself. He needs to think I'm strong and capable. The muscle under his eye ticks and he clenches and unclenches his fist. He takes another step forward but this time I don't flinch back.
"Are you sure about that, Red?" he rasps. His voice is gruff but oddly smooth at the same time. It’s intensely attractive and sensual. I haven’t heard the old northern brogue in years, and though his isn't as thick as the last traveler we had at the inn, I’d forgotten how pleasurable it is to listen to. "Looks a bit like a wound from a blade if you ask me." He narrows his eyes in suspicion and inhales deeply. His anger seems to intensify. I don't understand his reaction at all.