Eleven
I plummeted through the air in a blur of blood and glass.
I grasped for purchase on the nearby rocks. Nothing worked. I kept falling. The jagged teeth of the earth bit into my back and sliced through my skin. Screams burst from my lips. The snow jumped closer. I buried my head in my arms and curled my knees up to my chest.
I'd once broken my arm after falling out of a tree. I'd hit the snow with enough violent force that my teeth began to bleed. I'd been shot with an arrow and had to tear the head out myself. I thought I knew what pain was.
I was dead wrong.
My side crashed into the ground first. Loud cracks and shatters vibrated my body. Agony shot through my arm and burned deep into my head. The snow quickly turned deep red. Dark moonlight began to swallow my vision. A loud crashing sound ripped through the air. My head felt like it was being split in two. The ground fell out from under me and I was drowning in ice.
Freezing water suddenly impaled my lungs. My mouth instinctively opened to take in more air. I clawed at the water and kicked back to the surface. I pounded my fists against the ice. Pain writhed inside me. I stretched my hand out toward the light. My fingertips grazed the edge of the hole. The water was darker than anything I'd ever seen, I might as well have had my eyes closed. Something sharp bit into my wrist, and I felt myself rising through the ice.
I gasped at the feel of air rushing into my lungs. Water spewed from my mouth as I choked and coughed, desperately trying to catch my breath. My hand throbbed. The ice around me was a dark crimson. Blood trickled from deep gouges in my wrist. Teeth marks. I lifted my head.
Foul air blew over my numb face from a mouth that dripped blood. My blood. I stared at the matted fur in paralyzed fear. My entire body was frozen from the cold air, but that wasn't the reason I was shaking. A large wolf hunched before me, eyes piercing right through me. My chin trembled with a faint whisper. "Beast?"
But these eyes weren't silver.
I suppressed a whimper. All around me, wolves descended from the trees in a swarm of gray and black, creeping closer and closer onto the lake of ice. My frozen heart lurched in my throat. Its snarling grew louder, lips drawn back to expose longer, bloodier teeth. A choked sob escaped me.
Loud snarls erupted around me. Animals whimpered and whined. The sound of teeth locking down on flesh and bodies crashing together echoed on the mountain. My eyes snapped toward the shadow diving toward me and I nearly screamed again. Bright gold fur was stained with slashes of red, but that wasn't what made me want to hurl. The first time I'd ever seen Beast for what he was, he'd been something out of a fairytale, almost beautiful. But now that was gone. His body was contorted in a mass of jutting and protruding bones, his fur matted to his flesh, paws large enough to crush a man's skull beneath him. His ribs strained against his nearly transparent skin, his fur a coarse yellow. He glared down the other animals that circled around him— around us. His head craned over his shoulder in the smallest movement possible. Through the tangled fur and hideous features, silver eyes flashed at me. I knew without having to hear him say it.
Run.
I staggered back and treaded carefully over the shattering ice. I moved as quickly as possible to the opposite treeline.
The roars started up again. I risked a glance back at him and wished I hadn't. His body was thrown several feet across the frozen lake and landed with a sickening thud only a foot away from me. Still, he picked himself from the snow and gave me an abrupt growl before charging back toward the others. I ripped through the trees with the wind breaking against my face. My wet clothes clung to my skin and pinched my body tight the faster I moved. I shivered as I ran. I saw the shadow headed for me, but I was too late.
My legs were snatched out from under me. My head clashed with the solid trunk of a tree. Pain exploded behind my eyes and everything went dark.
❆
I stirred awake to the sound of loud arguing. Hendric's loud and thunderous voice boomed above the rest, a timid, shy squeak coming from someone who sounded an awful lot like Kenji. My heart leapt. Their screeching and hollering made my head pound, but I couldn't get past it. They're here. My muscles protested when I tried to lift my hand. "Hen..."
I slipped away again.
The voices disappeared.
❆
Pain shot up my wrist and into my shoulder. My eyes flew open on an empty scream and my back arched. Hands pushed down on my chest and stomach and held me down. "Calm down... You're okay... Relax." My vision reeled and my head throbbed.
A voice wriggled through and pierced the needles inside my mind, clearing away the hazy fog. I blinked the crust from my eyes. My numb tongue scratched around the interior of my mouth to find something to staunch the burning inside my throat. Something pressed against my lips and I parted them carefully. Water slithered down over my tongue and flowed like heaven to the back of my throat. The cup began to retreat before I was finished. I sat up to follow it. "Easy," said a rough voice. "That's enough for now."
I protested with a moan. "More," I croaked. Flashes of red and white flickered behind my eyes. Blood pooling around me, glowing sapphires, deep silver. My body flared with heat as if to echo the memories. I winced.
Coggington stepped before me with the cup again, lifting it for me.
I looked up at the old man, warily watching him move to sit in the chair near the bed. I was back in my room, in my bed. But my body was proof that none of that had been a nightmare. The blood staining my sheets proved it was real. "The cuts are mostly superficial," he said quietly. I shifted to study him. He folded his hands in his lap and played nervously with the buttons on his waistcoat. "I cleaned and sewed the deeper ones myself." His gaze dropped to my stomach and the tight bandage wrapped around it. My body recalled the pain of nails digging into the skin and recoiled. I remained silent, following his every movement with frightened anticipation. "Mrs. Potter should be here with food any minute." His dark eyes seemed older than they had been the last time I'd seen him. The wrinkles on his face were more prominent now, so much so that I could count each one. Dark rings circled his eyes and pulled on his skin. He looked exhausted.
I swallowed through the painful dryness and pushed myself up. "Where are they?
He lowered his head. "They thought it best not to be here when you woke up." I stared at my swollen arm, purple and black from falling. Coggington leaned forward. My shoulders jerked back, a move I instantly regretted. "I believe I speak for everyone when I say that I am so sorry. None of this was meant to happen." His eyes dipped to the slashes and stitches. "It gets harder and harder to control ourselves when we're like that—" His words sparked a new wave of fear inside me, but he was cut off before he could finish.
"Let's not scare her any more than we already have."
My gaze snapped to the door and the shadows that stepped through it.
Lumea led the way and took tentative steps toward my bed. "Adaira, I'm so sorry, it just..." She trailed off. Her knees bent and she sat on the edge. Unlike Coggington, I didn't move away from her. As much as my body told me to, I was too weak and tired to force my muscles to shrink back. "I'm sorry."
Mrs. Potter bustled to set a large bowl of steaming stew on the nightstand. She gave me a thin smile and walked toward me. "Food cures everything. Especially my cooking."
I'd grown accustomed to her nonchalant, wise manner, but I couldn't even laugh at her now. The images of last night were too frightening. Silence passed between the three of us. Coggington stood and slipped a thermometer into my mouth. He clicked his tongue at the reading and busied himself with tools. Lumea and Mrs. Potter stepped aside to talk in hushed whispers. It wasn't until my face began to burn with a familiar, irritating itch that I realized Beast had come in with them. I searched the room for him, our gazes locking as he leaned back in the shadows. I swallowed. "Why aren't you saying anything?" I said.
Even in the dim lighting I could see his frown stretch. "Because there's nothing I can say that would make you feel any less scared of us."
I fisted the sheets in my hands. Nerves fluttered wildly in my stomach. "No, there isn't." Lumea stiffened. Her chatter died. The three of them stared at me, but I didn't look at any of them. My attention was fixed solely on Beast. "How many times do I nearly have to die to prove that?" My body trembled in rage. "I almost died because of you."
He laughed darkly. "No, you're alive because of me. The details may seem a little fuzzy in that banged-up head of yours, but I saved your life. Again." He scoffed. "This may come as a shock to you, but I'm not the monster you think I am. So how about a little gratitude." He whirled on his heel and stormed out of the room. The door slammed hard enough to make the rest of us flinch.
My heart sank. Coggington and Lumea excused themselves not long after her brother's exit. Mrs. Potter, ever the nicest out of the three, sat and chatted with me for some time before the medicine kicked in and I began to feel drowsy. She blew out some of the candles on her way out, leaving one to burn on the table. She whispered goodnight and closed the door softly behind her.
Despite the exhaustion slowly overtaking my body, I wasn't ready to go to sleep. I slipped in and out of consciousness several times, each time opening my eyes to a new hour on the grandfather clock. It was well past two in the morning when I flung the duvet from around me and slowly dropped my feet to the floor. I tiptoed over to the door and crept quietly down the hall. My back still ached from having a two-hundred pound wolf tackle me, and my chest still winced with sharp pangs when I tried to breathe.
Facing the first stairwell, I sucked in as big a breath I could and grunted through the sore aches of my body. Sweat beaded on my forehead by the time I stepped on the first landing. I wandered across the hall to the other stairwell. One more... I groaned inwardly and began the painful trek. Thoughts rattled off in my head at what I was about to do. Did I even want to go through with this? He was the one who almost killed me— twice, I might add. Shouldn't he be the one to apologize? He was the one keeping me imprisoned in this hell.
It doesn't matter how luxurious this place is, Mrs. Potter, it's still a cage.
And it always will be until you make it something else.
I frowned. The old woman reminded me too much of Mama: no matter what I said, she always finished the conversation with words that didn't leave room for debate. Panting at the top of the third landing, I took hesitant steps toward the looming black door. We'd never been very religious people. Papa only prayed when he truly needed something and nothing ever happened. But his bedroom door looked exactly like how Mama described the gates of hell.
I paused in front of it. My hand froze before it could knock. It's late, my voice cowered. He's asleep by now. Wait til morning. I nodded. That was a good idea. He probably wouldn't even remember what happened today. I twirled around back to the stairs, satisfied.
Then I heard his door unlatch. My heart stuttered. "You went through all that effort to come up here, Adaira. There better be a good reason you're knocking on my door."
I swallowed, turning back to face him. My eyes immediately latched onto the the tan skin of his chiseled torso. My mouth slacked before I could stop it, a wild flurry of nerves erupting in my stomach. "I wanted to talk." I lifted my gaze to his. My cheeks burned, expecting him to say something about catching me staring at his body.
Instead, he sighed, crossing his arms over his fine chest. "At three in the morning?" I shrugged meekly. His eyes measured my figure with a tired look. Finally, he stepped back and held the door open wider. "Fine. Let's talk."