More leaves fall around us, and he keeps struggling, but I have a grip on the hand holding the knife. I shove his hand back as much as I can until I hear a bone snap. He screams but I move my hand to cover it so it’s a garbled rasp. We're both breathing heavily, him more than me, but my adrenaline is sky-high. Sweat dots my forehead. I grab the knife as it slides out of his hold and shove it into his throat to the hilt, pulling it to the side soit’s a wide laceration. I keep my hand over his mouth and move away from the crimson.
The silence roars around me, and I choke on a gasp.
Panting, I let him fall limply on my branch, blood dripping, eyes widen, pupils blown and settled on me.
I pocket the knife for a second, then think better of it. When they realize he’s gone, they’re going to search for him and this goddamn knife. Which means they'll search all of us to find it. And if they find it on me, who knows what they'll do to me.
Can't have that.
I need to get back to Sabrina alive and whole.
With an aggravated huff, I clean it off and shove it back in his little hunting purse. Bitch.
I move branches again, to the thicker one where the idiot is hanging, then tuck my feet under him for warmth.
The night goes silent once again.
I keep one hand in the pit of my arm while rubbing my chest with the other, alternating them.
I breathe.
I stay awake.
Minutes or even hours later, I choke out something between a sob and a laugh when the sky begins to turn various shades ofpink.
I hang my head.
I survived the night.
Chapter Nineteen
Sabrina.
There are bodieson the ground.
They are steppingoverthe bodies on the ground. I scan them from where I stand alone on the veranda, trying to verify that none of the frozen corpses buried under the snow are my husband.
Aglimpseof him.
That’s all I had.
A glimpse of him in shackles and some kind of collar.
Don’t break, don't break, don't break, Sabrina. Not now. You’re so close. He’s so close. None of them are him.
It was so cold last night. So cold I couldn’t breathe. I stayed on the veranda until I couldn't stand the surrounding bitterness of that same cold. Once I was in my room, I left the window open so I could suffer with him. But I had a sweater, a thermal, my wool leggings, and socks. I didn’t sleep. I prayed all night. To every and any deity. I prayed to Charlie to watch over him. I stayed by the window and surveyed the massacre as it happened. They used arrows like primitive hunters. Some hadspears. Others simply had large hunting knives. They were all dressed in black. Some from head to toe and wearing black paint on their faces. Kane was wearing a balaclava that only showed his eyes. He had kissed me hungrily in front of the other members before pulling it completely over his face and over that disgusting mouth of his. And then I had to stand around on this very balcony beside Kane’s grandfather and have small talk—ooohingandahhingevery now and then,agreeingthat itwasa nice kill.
I’ve never had to swallow down so much bile in my life.
I’m going to ask for a lip transplant after this. Or simply scrub them off with a Brillo pad so I can grow new lips.
I jump when a horn blasts above me. The sun is up now and more people are emerging from the woods. They’re not the Initiates. They’re people thatsurvived.
I hold my breath and wait, counting the people coming through the thicket of naked trees.
One..two… seven… two more…
And there, in the distance—I choke on a sob—is my bleeding heart. Even so far away I can feel his dark stare, the one that holds me captive like a straitjacket. I dip my chin once to acknowledge him and turn away before I break. I turn away before I launch myself off this fucking balcony and run to my husband on broken legs. I know they’d shoot an arrow into my back. But to die in my husband’s arms… not alone… As macabre as it is, it would be bliss. I run to the bathroom and sob ingratitude, tremblingeverywhere.
