Rounding around a few neatly groomed hedges and thorny rose bushes, I can taste freedom on the tip of my tongue. Sweet and full of promise. We’re almost through the gardens.
“Come on!” I don’t look back to ensure the other women are keeping pace. All I can envision is Ruse and Alaric. Sam and Sorin and Jarek. My head spins as a distant howl echoes from beyond the trees.
Alaric?
He doesn’t respond but the howling increases and with it, my steps.
We’re almost there.
My heart stammers, my feet digging into the muddied ground as a scream pierces the air. I squint against the rain, and through the darkness, I see the red haired Enchantress. Her body flails, her screams shrill as a guard pulls her back toward the castle by her hair.
“No!” I lunge in her direction. I don’t make it far before I’m tugged forcefully backward. Screaming, I claw at my attacker, but their hold is too firm. My arms are pressed tightly to my body. I can’t move.
Another howl.
Then another.
I’m here! Ruse, I’m here!
Then, I’m pulled further away and the freedom on my tongue turns sour. The other Enchantresses disappear from my view and the hope that propelled me earlier vanishes.
I wiggle my body, working hard to get my wrists free. I bite down on the hand wrapped around my chest, digging my canines into flesh.
“Stop, Elora, you’ll cause more of a scene.” His deep voice raises the hair on my neck.
My body stills, a fresh chill clawing at my spine. My back is pressed to the man’s chest, so I can’t see his face.
I’ll be taken again.
Dragged back to that dungeon.
My chest tightens and breathing becomes shallow.
I can’t go back.
Can’t be put in that cage.
I attempt to bite him again so he’ll drop my wrists, but his body is like steel around mine.
Unmovable.
So close. We were so close.
Just as my heart splinters, the man turns, dragging me with him and the lanterns from the castle begin to fade from my view.
He pulls me to a wooded area, the pine trees moan and sway with the rising wind. I tumble to the ground as he lets me go. None of the other Enchantresses are within eyeshot, no more howls echoing through the wind. All I see is the castle and a few servants lighting the white pumpkins that line the bridge, the faint string of music sounding from within.
Turning my attention to the man, his gray hair is cropped short on the sides and only slightly longer on top. His facial hair is the same shade of gray, trimmed neatly. His dark attire, black from collar to boot, sends a memory straight to my mind, but it’s muddied and faint. He takes a step away from me. He cradles his hand, the one I’ve bitten, to his chest.
“Who are you?” I scurry backward but don’t stand. My legs trembling from the sprint from the castle.
“My name is Calix,” he says and takes a deep breath. “I’m here to help you.”
Twenty-One
Sorin
The guard rounds the corner,drawing Roman’s attention. I take the opportunity to slip from his hold and sprint down the hallway.
