Raven of Water

Chapter 24: Into the Wilderness

Before Jackson knew what was happening, I jerked my wrists together, squeezing so that the chain constricted around his neck while wrapping my legs around his waist to hold myself to him. The man's hand shot to his throat and pried at the cold metal of the chain as the realization of what I was doing to him dawned on him. Growling, he broke the kiss with me and began fighting, slamming me against the stone before raising his fist and ramming it into my face. Pain blossomed behind my eye, but still I held tight to him, twisting the chain as Jackson's violent, wild struggle grew weaker.

Through half-lidded eyes, Jackson glared at me with enough hatred that I nearly pulled back. His was a look that threatened to kill me, a glare that made my stomach constrict in fear and my heart ache from terror. It was a look that spoke of violence, of hatred and malice so pure that it could rip my soul apart, but even while staring into the vitriol-filled eyes of my former fiancé, I held onto his body, even squeezing the chain tighter.

Because if I pulled back and gave him a chance to breathe, then he would gain the upper hand. He was stronger than me. More powerful. More hate filled. If he got the upper hand, I'd be dead. It didn't matter if they had some grand plans for me. That manic look in his eyes told me Jackson would murder me if given the chance.

So, even with him thrashing about, I held tight. Somehow, his body still supported me against the wall, his moving and trying to throw me off causing the rough stones at my back to dig through the back of my dress and into my skin. Miraculously, I held on for several minutes. When Jackson's lips began turning blue and his fingers ceased their grasping at the chain, he also lost the strength to stand, and we both tumbled to the floor.

Jackson's eyes fluttered closed, and for a moment I thought I'd killed him until I felt the weak rise and fall of his chest beneath me. He was alive, but my chain was still wrapped around his neck.

All it would take was a little more sustained pressure. A little tighter twist of the chain. Then he'd be gone...

With this soft noise of pain, I tore myself away from the man before I could do it, unwrapping the chain and tumbling back and off the man's body. Logic told me I should have killed him, but I couldn't. Not even after everything he'd done to me. If I killed him, then I would be just like them. Just like my grandfather. I wasn't a monster, even if that's what they wanted me to be.

Sniffling and praying he wouldn't wake up until I was long gone, I fished through his robes for the keys to my shackles. The frigid metal of the keys burned me when I touched them, but I fought through the pain and grabbed them then set to work freeing myself. After several seconds of struggle, my limbs were no longer held by restraints, though I gasped when I looked down to see my white stockings soaked in blood from where the ankle restraints had destroyed my skin. It looked worse than I'd expected, but I didn't have time to gawk. I needed to leave before anyone noticed something amiss.

Gathering myself, I stood, dropping the keys on top of the restraints and lifting my skirts and sprinting up the stairs and out into the dark, chilly night. Once my stockinged feet hit the soil, I tried to access my powers, wincing as the residual binding magic from the restraints slithered through my body and scalded me. I wanted to stand there and ponder this lack of access to my powers while I formulated a plan, yet in the distance, I heard people chatting casually as they walked along the path from the house.

Biting back my whispered curse, I melted into the forest, not really knowing what I was doing other than struggling to get away. My face throbbed. My ankles burned. And the wind carried with it a bone chilling cold and the promise of rain. I couldn't survive long out here, not without risking hypothermia.

But dying from hypothermia in nature would be far better than dying as a sacrifice to bring about the apocalypse.

I ran blindly for hours deeper into the darkness, tripping over sticks and stones and logs in a night so black that I felt smothered. There wasn't even a moon to guide me. Whenever I tried to access my powers, pain had me recoiling, though I didn't have time to worry about whether my powers would ever come back as my mind was consumed with the fight for survival. Whenever I fell on a rock or a stone or a bit of uneven earth, I'd peel myself off the ground and keep walking because that's the only thing I could do.