I tightened my arms around her frail form as we urged our horses faster. “Hold on,” I whispered into her matted hair. “Just hold on.”
thirty-three
Alain
My mare’s muscles strained beneath me as I forced her to maintain a pace that would kill a lesser beast. The woman in my arms weighed nothing, a bundle of bones wrapped in tattered silk, yet holding her steady while navigating the twisted path demanded every ounce of focus I possessed.
Her head lolled against my chest with each jolting stride, auburn hair spilling over my arm like blood from a fresh wound. I’d spent my entire life being taught that nothing goodcame from the Forbidden Forest, that corruption waited in its shadows to poison everything it touched. Yet here I was, fleeing through its heart with a half-dead woman who’d begged me to leave her behind, whose amber eyes haunted my dreams for months before I’d ever seen her face.
“Your Highness, we must slow down!” Thibaut called from behind me, his voice tight with strain. “The horses cannot sustain this pace through such terrain!”
I knew he was right. The path ahead narrowed between diseased trees whose branches reached like gnarled fingers, ready to snatch unwary riders from their saddles. Roots erupted from the ground in unnatural patterns, as if deliberately placed to trip our mounts. But slowing meant staying longer in this cursed place, and the sun was already slipping below the horizon, painting what little sky remained visible in bloody hues.
“We’re still an hour from the forest’s edge,” I called back, not bothering to hide the urgency in my voice. “We cannot be caught here after nightfall.”
As if in response to my words, the woman in my arms stirred, a soft moan escaping her cracked lips. Her eyelids fluttered but didn’t open. I adjusted my grip, cradling her more securely against my chest, feeling each of her ribs through the thin fabric of her gown. How long had she been imprisoned in that cell? How had she survived at all? The questions burned in my mind, but answers would have to wait until we escaped this damned forest.
Darkness fell with unnatural speed, as if the forest itself was eager to cloak us in its shadows. The temperature plummeted, frost forming on the leather of my saddle even as sweat soaked my back beneath my hunting leathers. My breath clouded before me, mingling with that of my mare, whose flanks heaved with exertion.
“Light!” I barked in the old tongue, my voice carrying the authority that had been bred into me since birth. “Willem, bring thy torch forward! The rest of thee, draw thy blades and form around us. Two lengths apart, no more.”
The men responded instantly to my commands, though I saw the fear in their eyes as Willem rode alongside me, torch held high. Its flame cast dancing shadows across the forest floor, transforming harmless underbrush into crouching beasts that seemed to follow our progress with hungry eyes.
“Keep to the path,” I continued, my grip tightening on the reins as my mare shied away from something unseen in the darkness. “The wolves hunt in these woods after sunset. They’ll strike at stragglers first.”
“Wolves, sire?” The youngest of my guards, a man barely past his twentieth year, couldn’t keep the tremor from his voice. “Just wolves?”
We all knew what he meant. Normal wolves were dangerous enough, but the creatures that prowled these corrupted woods were something else entirely. Something twisted by the very magic my family had spent generations trying to eradicate.
“Whatever they are,” Thibaut answered for me, his sword already drawn and gleaming in the torchlight, “they bleed when cut. Remember that.”
I wasn’t so certain. My gaze swept the darkness beyond our small circle of light, searching for movement among the twisted trees. The woman’s weight in my arms felt both burden and purpose. I couldn’t draw my sword while holding her, couldn’t defend myself or her if we were attacked. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to relinquish her to any of my men, not even Thibaut. Something primitive and possessive had awakened in me from the moment I’d lifted her from that stone floor, something that insisted she was mine to protect, mine to save.
She shifted again in my arms, her head turning so that her face pressed against my chest. Through the layers of leather and linen, I felt the coolness of her skin, the shallow rhythm of her breath. My heart hammered against my ribs, so hard I wondered if she could feel it even in her unconscious state.
“Stay with me,” I whispered, words meant for her alone. “We’re getting out of here. Just stay with me.”
The path curved sharply to the right, forcing us to slow our pace or risk sending our mounts tumbling down a steep embankment. Willem’s torch illuminated a narrow track ahead, barely wide enough for two horses to ride abreast. I fell back slightly, allowing him to lead with the light while Thibaut moved to my right side, his experienced eyes scanning continuously for threats.
“Quiet,” I hissed suddenly, raising one hand to halt our small company.
The forest had fallen silent. No wind rustled through dead leaves, no night birds called from barren branches. Even our horses seemed to hold their breath, ears pricked forward in alarm. Only the crackling of Willem’s torch broke the unnatural stillness.
Then I heard it. A low, wet sound like meat being torn from bone. Something large moved in the darkness beyond our circle of light, its bulk displacing shadow rather than creating it.
“Steady,” I murmured, fighting to keep my voice calm even as ice crept through my veins. “Willem, hold that torch higher.”
The light lifted, pushing back the darkness a few more precious feet, and what it revealed stopped my heart for one terrible moment.
A bear stood at the edge of our path, but not any bear that nature had intended. Its fur had fallen away in patches, revealing skin that oozed black fluid like tar. One eye socket gaped empty, while the other held an orb that glowed with sicklyyellow light. Its jaw hung askew, broken and reformed at an impossible angle, allowing for a maw that opened far wider than any natural bear’s should. Black saliva dripped from yellowed fangs onto the frosted ground, where it sizzled like acid meeting water.
“Sweet merciful Christ,” someone whispered behind me, and I couldn’t tell if it was a prayer or a curse.
The corrupted beast rose on its hind legs, towering over us, muscles rippling beneath its diseased hide. The stench that rolled from it hit us in a wave—rot and sulfur and something else, something that reeked of the very wrongness that permeated this forest.
“We cannot outrun it,” I said, my voice steady despite the fear clawing at my throat. I turned to Thibaut, making the hardest decision of the night. “Take her.”
His eyes widened, but he didn’t question me. He maneuvered his mount closer, arms outstretched as I carefully transferred the woman’s limp form to him. The loss of her weight left me feeling strangely hollow, as if something essential had been removed from my chest.
