Darkness was in my nature. I knew it intrinsically, as thoroughly as I knew Ginger was mine.
It was an instinct I couldn’t place but believed wholeheartedly. For if I couldn’t trust my instincts, I was nothing.
I was already nobody, with shattered memories and nowhere to call home, but I refused to let my very existence be reduced to nothing.
Ginger was out there somewhere. Alive. Maybe even waiting for me. Shehadto be.
I began to plot my way out.
It would be simple, surely. I was smarter than all these folk. Stronger. More cunning.
More vicious.
And at this point, I had nothing to lose.
Not even my morality.
I could snatch the next folk who came to deliver my meal. Probably that scrawny human Linc. He would be easy to incapacitate.
If I smashed his head against the bars, I could probably retrieve the key to my cell from him—surely, he had one.
Then I would fight my way free until I reached the forest.
Easy.
I reveled in the darkness, content that my secret scheming would be unknown to anyone. The darkness hid me, cloaked me, comforted me in a way that nothing else could.
Though I didn’t know much about myself, I knew I was a creature of the dark, and that my wife would live. And that was enough. For now.
Anew sound broke me from my plotting.
I braced myself—crouching in the corner of the cell, withdrawing into the shadows, praying the dim light of the wall sconces wouldn’t reach me and reveal the manic gleam that was surely obvious in my eyes.
I was ready to attack.
Until the sound registered.
I expected footsteps to pound down the stairs, like they always did, but this time, a new sound broke the silence.
The rhythmic clacking of hooves against stone.
Two hooves.
I straightened to my full height, emerging from the shadows.
Murder suddenly vacated my thoughts. I wouldn't harm anyone where my Ginger could see—not if I could help it.
They would see reason. Ginger would make them.
“Ginger,” I breathed as she approached.
She didn’t hear me. Or, at least, she didn’t react.
She walked up to the bars, wrapped in a bedsheet, her face tight and pale. She was nothing like her normal, lively self. It pained me, seeing her so drained.
But I was just relieved she was alive. My knees threatened to give out. A small part of me wanted to curl up and weep, to clutch her to my chest and never let her out of my sight again.
If only a small part of me could remain with her.
