Under the Rose

Chapter 23 | Realizations

I've been hiking for what felt like centuries. I was out of breath. My lungs ached, my throat burned, and my legs were wobbly. There was a sharp, burning pain radiating from my side, and my hand went to it, coming away with blood coating my fingers. It was from the knife wound Cam had sewn up. It reopened. I'm sure jumping from a moving car didn't help with that. I had to clean it and redress it, fast. She said the old lookout tower would be about four miles away, but I've yet to see it. Surely, I've walked four miles already. Did she make a mistake?

I checked the watch on my wrist. It was a few minutes past three in the morning. The only light I had was from the full moon above, lighting the path ahead of me. My fingers were turning red from the cold, and I curled them into my palms as I picked up the pace. I had to find that lookout tower.

I continued on for another twenty minutes before a tall structure came into view over the trees to my left. It was the tower, finally. Holding my side, I used whatever strength I had left in my legs to push myself forward, making it to the bottom of the stairs leading up. Now came the hard part. I climbed the stairs carefully, the old, rusted metal groaning beneath my weight. I held my side, my wound burning against my hand.

Once at the top, I dragged myself into the small structure consisting of a cot, a few cabinets and counters that made up a small kitchen-like area, and a desk with an old, obviously broken radio sitting on it. I trudged over to the cot and threw my duffel bag down as I carefully sat on the edge of the creaky bed. I lifted my shirt with shaky hands and hissed as the fabric peeled away from my marred skin. It didn't look good.

I dug in my duffle bag for anything that would help. Unfortunately, I didn't have enough time to look for first aid items back at the cabin. I picked up one of my old shirts and tied it around my waist tightly, hoping it would at least stop the bleeding. After drinking some water and going through a can of peaches, I laid back on the cot, closing my eyes. I was exhausted.

After a few minutes of laying there, I opened my eyes to see a dense fog had settled outside. One look outside the windows, and I knew I was asleep. I was in the Veil.

I slowly stood from the cot, taking notice the wound at my side didn't hurt. Definitely asleep. My first thought was to find Caus. I didn't even know if he'd be here, but I had to try. I closed my eyes and thought about the one place I assumed he would be.

Opening my eyes, my breath caught in my throat, my heart hammered in my chest. He stood with his back facing me a few yards away in the clearing, his dark wings almost encasing him.

"Why did you come?"

I wasn't sure I heard him. I stepped closer, and—

"Why would you come?!" He whirled around and stared at me with those glowing, yellow-orange eyes. He actually looked . . . pained.

I was taken aback, both by his rise in volume and the unexpected expression on his beautiful face. "I needed to see you," I said simply, keeping my distance when all I wanted was to run to him.

"You're actually mad," he laughed in disbelief, a hand running through his dark locks. "I try to kill you, and here you come, running like you can't wait to die."

"I'm not an idiot," I advised, walking toward him. "I know you can't hurt me."

"How can you be so sure?"

I stopped in front of him, looking up at his now cool features. Nothing was left of that distressed expression from earlier. He resembled an empty husk.

"Because you have to kill my father before you can even think about touching me."

He smirked, cruelly. "I can still touch you," he assured, stepping even closer. "Especially in the way you so deeply want me to."