Chapter 24 By My Side #2
My legs refused to obey, and I imagined roots spearing through my worn soles, anchoring me to the ground. I was trapped, caught in a snare of my own curiosity and bad luck.
Arabesque’s expression shifted, her rage igniting like a firestorm, and I knew, I knew, this would be worse than anything she’d done before.
She raised her hands, her fingers curling as though grasping an invisible thread, and the air turned as thick and cloying as congealed blood.
My vision frayed at the edges, colors leaching away until only the green of her eyes remained.
It hurt, this theft, in a place deeper than marrow.
Like someone had hooked fingers under my sternum and begun unstitching my soul.
“Curiosity is not wise for you to cultivate, Serafina,” Arabesque crooned. “It will only ever end in tears for you.”
My knees turned to liquid. My magic surged toward the glass vial she held, ragged ribbons of vivid silver tarnishing as it mingled with her Dark power. I tried to scream, to beg, but my lungs had turned to lead. All I could manage was a whispered, “Please.”
“How much can you take before she breaks?” Claudio asked.
“Oh, I’ve mapped her limits exquisitely.” Arabesque’s voice came from everywhere and nowhere. “Down to the last drop.”
The cold seeped into me, a prickling sensation that started at my fingertips and spread over my skin. I gasped, the sound strangled and weak, as her power pressed down on me.
“You’re nothing, Serafina,” Arabesque hissed, her voice echoing in my ears like a death knell. “Nothing but a vessel for my use. Do you understand?”
I couldn’t answer. My tongue felt heavy, my thoughts sluggish as the siphoning continued. My fingers spasmed against needle fall as something inside me tore free with a sound like wet paper ripping. Above me, the clouds merged into one all-consuming white, and only then did she stop.
“You serve me so well, stepdaughter, and you will serve me well in another way soon enough.”
I wanted to scream, but my lips wouldn’t move. All I could do was lie there in a crumpled heap.
“Claudio?” Her tone turned casual, as if she were calling for a servant to fetch her tea. “Teach her the meaning of pain.”
His eyes were cold, and his feral grin had teeth too white, too sharp. As his eyes burned bright with wolf-light, he crouched down beside me, his movements smooth and unhurried, like a cat playing with its prey. The scent of him, musky and wild, filled my nostrils, making my stomach churn.
“Well, well,” he purred in a low taunt. “Look at this little dove with broken wings.”
I flinched as he reached out, his fingers brushing against my cheek. Light as it was, his touch made my skin crawl.
“Don’t worry,” he murmured, his grin widening. “I’ll make it quick. Playing with weak prey doesn’t amuse me.”
My breath came in short, panicked gasps, and I braced myself mentally. I couldn’t even curl my body into a protective ball. I tried to lift my head, but failed. Even blinking took effort, my eyelids dragging across my burning eyes.
Don’t scream, I told myself. It only makes them hurt you more.
The rogue’s calloused fingers tilted my chin upward.
“Look at those pretty eyes,” he marveled. “Like a cornered doe. Makes a man hungry.”
“Teach her without soiling her,” Arabesque commanded. “She needs to be pure for what’s ahead.”
“Seems it’s your lucky day, little dove.” He grinned as his hand fisted in my hair, wrenching me upright. “Stay awake and count.”
One. The back of his hand cracked against my bottom lip, a percussive smack that reverberated through my skull. Bile rose in my throat as the pine trees spun.
Two. His knee drove into my right thigh, the muscle there seizing like overstrung fence wire.
Three. His elbow connected with my chest, right where it ached from the siphoning, and air fled from my lungs in a silent rush.
Four. Fire erupted along my left arm as a claw raked across it, tearing a gasp from my raw throat. My skin parted like overripe fruit, bone gleaming against muscle before blood welled in a flood.
“Must you make such a mess, Claudio?” Arabesque chided.
“You said to teach, not coddle.” The werewolf stood and stepped back, licking his bloody fingers.
“True, but mind the merchandise. She has to be functional.”
My vision tunneled. Each heartbeat sent fresh agony radiating from the gash in my upper arm. I pressed my uninjured hand over it, my fingers slipping in the warmth pooling between them.
Arabesque knelt, and her cold fingertips brushed my brow.
“Let me be very clear, Serafina,” she murmured. “Cross the house’s threshold again without my express permission, and the next lesson Claudio gives will be in the nursery. I’ll have him teach you how easily your baby sister bruises.”
“Cribs make good coffins, little dove,” the rogue laughed.
Ice flooded my veins at the threat.
No! Not Josslyn! I screamed in my head.
Arabesque stood, and she and Claudio left. I counted each retreating footstep until the woods around me was silent again. Only then did I let the tears fall, hot and furious, blending with the blood soaking my shirt.
#
The world swayed as I stumbled toward the house, my arm throbbing with every step. Blood seeped through the makeshift bandage, a torn strip from the bottom of my shirt, and dripped onto the dirt path like a trail of red breadcrumbs.
When my legs stopped cooperating, I crawled, dragging myself using fistfuls of chickweed as anchors. Stones bit into my palms and dirt packed beneath my torn nails, but I made it to the back porch.
That’s where my stomach revolted. I retched bile and shame between the hydrangeas, my shoulders shaking. Directly above my head, Josslyn’s bedroom window stayed dark.
Good. No one was there disturbing her sweet dreams.
Brumous found me, whining as he sniffed my mangled arm. I buried my face in his ruff, grateful for his warmth. The cold wasn’t just on my skin anymore; it was in me, coiled around my ribs, squeezing my lungs until every breath was a struggle, sharp and shallow.
“Hush,” I whispered, even though the pup made no sound. “We’re still here, aren’t we?”
As I staggered to my feet, leaning heavy on Brumous, I noticed how the thick spring mist veiled the eastern woods. Was it dense enough to hide a girl, a baby, and a pup in its haze?
Even if it is, I sighed to myself, it wouldn’t erase our scent from werewolf noses.
As Brumous helped me inside, I nearly laughed at the irony. A dire wolf was my only ally in this nest of vipers. And yet, I had the notion that Mama would have approved.
“Maybe Mama sent you,” I panted as we climbed the stairs. “Sent you to help me. What do you think, Brummy?”
He huffed a little, but I couldn’t tell if it was a chuckle or a sigh. Maybe something halfway between the two.
Finally, I made it to my bathroom and leaned against the doorframe, catching my breath as I glanced down at my arm.
The wound was deep and still bleeding, and I didn’t have anything to treat it properly.
No salves, no medicine, not even bandages.
Arabesque kept all of that locked up; if I wanted it, I would have to beg or barter for it.
Brumous padded toward me, his eyes wide and anxious. He nudged my leg gently, almost as if he were saying, Seri hurt.
“It’s okay, Brummy. Just a scratch. I’ll be fine.”
He whined softly at the lie.
He felt it. I knew he did. He felt it all, the ache, the fear, the despair. And yet, he stayed by my side, loyal and unwavering, when he could have run away so many times before.
I couldn’t stay standing there forever. I needed to wrap my arm better, change and feed Josslyn, start breakfast.
Pushing open the bathroom door, I dragged myself inside, each step a battle.
By the time I cleaned the gash, I was gasping for breath, my vision doubled.
Blood bloomed through the makeshift bandage before I finished knotting another strip of shirt over it.
Telling myself it was only for a moment, I collapsed onto the bed.
Brumous leapt up, too, and I hugged him as shivers racked me.
He licked my cheek, and I could almost hear him saying, Seri strong. And I wanted to be. I needed to be.
Right now, I felt anything but strong.
“I’m trying. I’m—” When my voice gave out, he pressed harder against my heaving chest, whining as my tears soaked his ruff. “I should’ve told you to run away that first night. You would have had a better chance in the wild than with me.”
He gently took my wrist between his teeth, and I liked to believe he was saying he wouldn’t have left me no matter what.
As I stared at the wall, nearly drowning in hopelessness, the tears kept coming.
“Please. Please, help. Just a little help,” I breathed. The wolf pup licked my face again, his tongue lapping my tears. Brummy here, I imagined him saying, and I smiled weakly. “I know, but we need more than just us, Brumous. We need a miracle.”