Three months passed by in the blink of an eye. Emily walked bare foot through the grass that lay neatly outside the east wing. The freshly cut blades tickling the skin of her toes. It was something she'd learned to enjoy doing over the months on her own. The only human interaction she'd get was when the maids brought her food and clean linen.
The blonde had long accepted her uncertain fate and learned to love the solitude. At first it was scary, spending nights on end alone, at one point she'd even become manic. Talking to herself, laughing wildly at her own jokes and her own thoughts; then finally acceptance came.
Emily realized that the castle was so large that it was like she no longer existed in the royal family's world. She had no idea what happened in the main house anymore and no idea what had become of anyone she'd grown accustomed to either. She'd taken advantage of the bit of freedom and started wondering outside.
The blonde would spend hours reading under the shade of a tree, or simply listening to the birds sing sweet songs to her. From what she'd gathered, the east wing was the least guarded area—but there were still guards. They manned the walled fence of the castle, taking shifts at different ends of the huge wall. She'd made notes on their shifts and patterns, but nothing ever stayed the same. It was never enough time or space for her to make a run for it and the frustration threatened to drive the woman mad.
Admittedly, it was still the hardest three months she'd ever experienced. Being alone with her thoughts forced her to come to terms with everything that happened following her being snatched from her home—from her family. She'd mourned the loss of everything she considered to be normal as she was chucked into the world of supernatural beings and all the drama that went with it.
She could only assume that Annabelle's absence meant the woman still didn't believe the child was hers, and at that point Emily could care less about what she thought. Her once flat tummy now wore a visible bump. She went through most of the changes on her own—the morning sickness, the cravings, the high emotions, she'd faced it all on her own.
Emily caught glimpses of dark shadows that lurked outside the castle, possibly creating chaos for everyone in the main house. For some reason, they never ventured to the east wing. She did find that strange, but didn't question what she considered to be one of the good things that happened as a result of being in the East Wing. She no longer had to deal with gruesome battles, or fearing of being attacked—the shadows never came near her. It made her think that perhaps they were simply only after Annabelle all along.
One night, she'd heard the most haunting screams echoing through the castle. It made the woman check the locks and struggle to drag a chair across the door's threshold. She didn't sleep for days after, her mind reeling with thoughts of what could be happening.
Emily sighed, leaning her back against the base of her favorite tree. The grass beneath her was worn from repeatedly sitting in the same spot every day. She flipped the novel open to where she'd left off but after only a few minutes of rereading the same page, slammed it shut. As the days flew by, she'd become more and more exhausted. Hardly being able to keep her eyes open, she'd begun to worry about having narcolepsy.
The blonde closed her eyes, the sounds of nature guiding her into a deep slumber.
Gasping, her eyes flew open. She was under water, arms moving back and forth treading lightly. Emily could feel the wetness of the water, cold and real against her skin. She was never the best swimmer but she kicked her legs and propelled herself to the surface of the water. It was bright, too bright. She could only see a few yards ahead of herself and from what she saw, there was no land in sight. Emily felt panic set in at the thought of being stranded in the middle of an ocean. Something solid poked at her back. The blonde spun to face a raft. Her heart raced the realisation that the raft hadn't been there a few seconds ago.
She grabbed onto the floating device, struggling to lift herself out of the water. Halfway onto the raft, something slimy and cold wrapped around her legs, dragging her underwater. Air bubbles rose to the surface from her muffled screams as the creature pulled her deeper underwater.
Soon enough, she was face to face with a massive, dark creature. Its tentacles slithered along the ocean floor and the most chilling, maniacal laugh escaped its mouth. She was running out of air. Her chest felt tight, the last bit of oxygen she'd managed to hold in quickly dissolving in panic. She tried fighting, but was tossed around easily by the large, abominable creature.
A shadow appeared moving towards them, approaching the beast at full speed. It lounged at the creature, tearing its limbs off bit by bit before giving a finishing blow. Strong arms wrapped around Emily, just she'd drifted unconscious.
Her eyes flew open again on the surface, and the scene changed. They were now on a beach, the ocean in the distance. She was wrapped in the strong arms of the man who saved her. He placed her onto the creamy sand, the coconut trees providing minimal shade. His back faced her as he rustled through a bush nearby, fiddling with a shrub.
The young man was tanned, and his head topped with sunset red hair. There was a wooden bowl in his hand when he returned and in it, a herbal mixture.
"This should help." The man finally spoke.
He massaged the mixture onto the bruise that mimicked a burn on her leg. She hadn't even noticed it—there was no pain.
Emily's breath caught in her chest when the man's eyes met her own. Grey eyes with specks of gold stared back at her. In that moment, she'd felt something strange. The grey eyes, dimpled cheeks—he reminded her so much of Annabelle that it was almost painful to look at.
"You're not safe in the castle anymore." He went back to massaging her leg. "It's time for us to go."
"Us?" she questioned.
"Yes, us." He tugged her onto her feet. "We aren't safe there anymore Mom."
There was a sharp pain at the back of her head and her world went dark again.
***
"Hey," Victoria shook her gently. "Wake up."
Emily groaned, peeking an eye open. "Victoria?"
"It's not safe out here, don't you see what's happening?"
"Nothing's happening on the east end." Emily shrugged before standing to her feet. "Didn't expect to see you here."
"Well, Annabelle has forbidden anyone from coming to the east wing—not like I would have actually had the time to these past few months anyway."
The two walked back to the castle together, Victoria filling her in on the recent developments. There had been more than fifteen battles at the castle since Emily was moved to the room in the east. Tristan was badly injured twice, and Annabelle was simply a walking target. She'd said that Geoffrey had mysteriously vanished a few days ago, and they were all unsure of whether or not he'd been taken. Victoria had also been away for some time, offering her support in the north when things began to get overwhelming.
"It's not getting any better, and we are no closer to finding the witch behind it."
The taller woman's hair was in a neat, single braid that hung against her back. She looked beautiful but tired. Emily could only imagine the tumultuous life they'd been living the past three months.
"Are there just not enough clues? I thought that was the witch-hunter's job."
"With all the attacks happening, Tristan hasn't been able to focus much on the hunting part of his title." Victoria pointed out.
They stood at the building's entrance, Victoria's nerves getting the better of her as Annabelle's stern warning replayed in her mind. She knew the queen was hurt, and this was her way of reacting to the pain—anger. Unreasonable, unnecessary anger. She'd spoken to Annabelle several times, pleading with her to bring the girl back, but as it turned out the blonde was much safer here on her own.
Though she'd never admit it, Victoria grew fond of the snarky younger woman. She was a breath of fresh air in their never ending, plotless lives. And she was exactly who Annabelle needed.
"Would you like to come in for some tea?" the blonde finally spoke again.
Victoria sighed, holding the bridge of her nose gently. "Sure."
Emily led them to the small kitchenette where she turned the kettle on.
"What would you like?" the younger woman excitedly held up several boxes of teas.
The wolf chuckled at her enthusiasm before answering. "I'll have the raspberry, one sugar."
She watched as Emily danced around, knowing where everything was and found a bit of joy in watching her prepare a cup of tea. There was a barely visible rise on the blonde's tummy that caught Victoria's attention. She obviously knew that the child was Annabelle's. The girl was too innocent for it to be anything but that. But the queen was stubborn, fear and rage getting the better of her senses.
Emily handed her a cup and motioned for her to follow. They arrived at the room that Emily had been staying in. It was humble, filled with various books laid on the desk that faced the window. It was clean and cozy. Victoria suddenly felt guilty for having taken part in subjecting the blonde to the tiny space—although it wasn't under her orders.
Victoria sat on the sofa, crossing her legs as the blonde got comfortable at the edge of the bed.
"I haven't spoken to someone for this long in such a long time." She finally said.
The statement made Victoria uneasy. "I'm sorry about this. I know you haven't done anything wrong."
"At least someone believes me."
The wolf sipped her drink, the fragrant tea warming her up as she gave the blonde a once over. "How's the baby?" she asked the question that played on her mind for quite some time.
Emily appeared to be lost in thought, an unreadable expression on her face as they sat. Victoria left her seat, wondering over to the younger woman. The blonde curls were loose and much longer than she remembered.
"Are you okay?" she touched the woman's arm gently. "You look like you're in another world." She chuckled to mask her concern.
"Did you ever think that maybe... everything that was happening had something to do with me? With this baby?"
The dark-haired woman was taken aback by the question, but answered honestly. "Yes—I have." She sighed. "A lot of things don't make sense, and probably makes even less sense to someone who didn't exist in a time when witches were around."
"Was it bad? The war that happened, Annabelle only touched on the subject months ago."
Victoria was surprised to hear that Annabelle even brought the topic up with the younger woman. It was a sore topic for them both. The wolf had only come to terms with the aftermath just a few years ago herself.
"There's so much I could say about that time, yet I doubt the words would come out." She couldn't hide the sadness in her voice. "What the witches did was unforgivable, and what they took...was even worse. Annabelle lost both her parents during that time, but I can't say much else about it. I can't seem to figure out what witch would exist in today's time with this much gripe with Annabelle. It's completely stumped us."
Emily nodded, Victoria's words seemingly giving her much to think about.
"Thanks for coming." She spoke. "I know you probably would have come earlier if the circumstances were different. And thanks for believing me."
"Don't worry about it. I know this isn't fair to anyone involved, most of all yourself. That child you're carrying has only made life ten times worse for you. Whatever is after Annabelle—it's only a matter of time before it's after you."
The words from Emily's dream resonated with the blonde. She was no longer safe at the castle and would need to find a way out, quickly. The she-wolf gently rubbed her arm, dragging her away from her thoughts again. Blue eyes flicked up at the woman's lips, plump, red and inviting. Against her better judgement, she wrapped an arm around the taller woman's neck, pulling her close enough to press their lips together.
Shock was written on the older woman's face, but it didn't stop her from deepening their kiss. Emily pushed her gently onto her back, their lips never breaking throughout the movement. It felt different, it wasn't the same taste Emily had gotten used to, it wasn't the same touch she'd grown to enjoy. But it was something. It made her feel something. Something she hadn't felt in months of being alone. She felt comforted.
Against her will, tears broke the surface of her eyes. She tried to force them away, but it was too late, Victoria had already seen.
"Oh, Emily." Victoria sat up, wrapping her arms around the smaller woman. "It's going to be okay; I promise."
The blonde sobbed in the older woman's arms. She told Victoria of all the strange things that happened while she was in the main house, and the dream she'd had earlier that day. To say the woman was shocked would be an understatement. It further cemented the fact that the witch was somehow connected to the younger blonde.
"One thing we can agree on is you're not safe here." The wolf concluded. Victoria knew the kiss stemmed from the internal conflict the younger woman faced. There was a need inside her to give Emily protection and comfort she was looking for—but she knew the blonde would certainly rather having it from Annabelle. And...that was fine with Victoria.
After all, Emily was about to do something she never could by bringing an heir into the world and change the dynamic in their world forever.
Emily parted her lips to speak but the older woman cut her off. "I'll help you." She made her decision moments ago. "I'll help you escape."
Annabelle held a breath as she rounded the corner with Tristan a few paces ahead of her. She jumped onto the man's back, grabbing his swore and sliced the head off yet another possessed shadow-person. Panting, she rolled onto the floor before struggling back to her feet.
The days went on like that from the day Emily was moved to the East wing. The shadow men became brave enough to enter the castle, haunting them all. Every day they fought for their lives, and Annabelle finally decided that enough was enough. They needed to abandon the castle. As much as it hurt her and her ego to say it, she couldn't defend the castle much longer.
With Geoffrey gone, it was taking all of her strength to stop her home from becoming overrun. With reports of similar incidents happening all over the capital, Annabelle was spread completely thin.
"I think that's the last one for now." Tristan wiped his swore before sheathing it.
"For now."
The men came in waves, there was no telling when they'd be back. After instructing the guards to reinforce the bars she'd recently had installed on the castle windows, the two said their goodbyes and Annabelle head to her quarters.
Mentally, nothing has been the same for her since finding out about the baby. Her heart still felt damaged beyond repair. Aside from running for her life, and endless fighting, she spent her time locked away in her room. Annabelle's rest never lasted more than five hours before having to respond to yet another crisis in her city, or in her own home.
A few hours had gone by and the castle was quiet again. She tried to keep a routine; it was the only thing that kept her sane. A long soak in the bath, dinner and her evening stroll around the castle to ensure it was secure. Annabelle examined each room, each hallway and every crease until she'd arrived at the east wing. It was after midnight, and knew Emily would be fast asleep.
After weeks of monitoring the younger woman, she'd gotten the blonde's sleeping pattern down—and she'd been sleeping a lot more recently.
The queen used the master key to open the door leading to the tiny apartment in the east. She gently pushed the bedroom door open, meeting Emily fast asleep atop the duvet. Her mouth slightly ajar, light whimpers left her lips as she slept. A small smile tugged at Annabelle's lips as she watched the woman sleep.
She wouldn't admit it, but this had been the only part of her routine she looked forward to. The big t-shirt she wore to bed was hiked halfway up Emily's body, exposing a small baby bump. The queen walked over to the bed, gently shifting the girl under the duvet. She tucked Emily in, brushing a few golden strands away from her face before kissing her forehead.
Annabelle was disgusted with herself. She longed for Emily's touch, to kiss her lips again—to be inside her again. She didn't like the person she'd become, the person who'd grown to rely on the blonde for comfort.