CHAPTER 4
I wait for Abigail to drop the clothes off before having a shower.
Using the wooden chair, I brace it under the door handle.
I definitely don’t want a repeat of yesterday when they invaded my personal space.
Showering quickly, I dress in the sweater dress Abigail gave me.
It is black and warm, but I didn’t like that it showed off so much of my legs.
Opening the door, I find Matitus waiting in the corridor.
“Block the door again, I will make you shower with me understood?” he says, not even trying to hide his anger.
Why would he? He is one of the feared Dragon Kings and used to getting his way.
Not wanting to anger him further, I nod, looking away.
Matitus grips my chin, forcing me to stare up into his snake-like eyes.
“I said, understood?”
I nod my head feverishly.
“Words, Elora.”
“Yes, understood,” I whisper, fighting the urge to roll my eyes at him and his tone of voice. I feel like I am being scolded by a teacher, not that I went to school. My grandmother schooled me and taught me the basics, like reading, writing and basic math.
He releases me, then grips my elbow, pulling me toward the kitchen where Abigail waits.
She looks up briefly before shifting her attention elsewhere.
Matitus strides out, his presence commanding, and I wait for Abigail to meet my eyes again.
The moment he’s gone, she exhales, relief clear on her face.
“Thank the heavens,” she whispers when he could no longer hear. “You need to watch yourself around them, Elora. They may not be that bad now, once Silas comes back, they won’t be as gentle.”
“Gentle, that’s them being gentle?” I ask incredulously.
She nods while chewing the end of nail nervously.
“We need to get to work, Silas likes everything a particular way and the last girl I worked with got killed because she forgot to take the trash out,” Abigail says, concern spreading all over her face.
I can’t believe they would kill someone over something so ridiculous.
On the plus side, Abigail is talking more and looks a little more relaxed while no one other than me is around.
Peering around the kitchen, no one is here.
Which I think is odd. Abigail must notice me staring around because she answers my thoughts.
“They left to get supplies. Once Silas comes back, no one may leave the castle until he goes again. Last time he stayed a month. I didn’t get to see my daughter for an entire month,” she says sadly. I put a consoling hand on her shoulder.
“Where does he go?” I inquire.
“To find his mate, or the Chosen One as they call her,” Abigail mumbles.
“The Chosen One?” I ask, wondering if it is the same Chosen One my grandmother used to tell stories about.
“Yes, the one who can carry their children,” she whispers, snapping her mouth shut when something crashes in the corridor.
We both stiffen as a boy, no older than twelve, walks in carrying a bucket and broom.
“Peter! Geez, you nearly gave me a heart attack,” Abigail says, her heartbeat thudding loudly before gradually settling.
My hearing, far sharper than a human’s, picks up every beat—useful, and often irritating.
“Sorry, Abbie,” he mumbles, his brown hair falling over his eyes before he sweeps it aside. His gaze shifts to me.
“You’re Fae,” he says, eyeing me with a matter-of-fact expression.
“Yes, she is. Now stop staring, it’s rude,” Abigail scolds him.
“Is she the one, the one they have been looking for?” he asks.
“I think so, we will know when Silas gets back,” she tells him, and his face drops as he looks at me nervously.
“I better go, good luck, you’re going to need it. I pray you’re not the one they are looking for,” he says, quickly racing out the back of the kitchen.
“What does he mean?” I ask, turning back to Abigail. She walks to the door peering out the corridor, making sure no one is around.
“He means if you are who they have been looking for,” she says rather abruptly.
“Please, you have to tell me,” I beg.
Abigail looks uncertain and cautious. “If you are, they will make you birth all their heirs; it’s more than that, though. Silas hates Fae. I am not sure why, I just know everyone they have found has never left alive,” she whispers.
In this moment, I can’t decide what is more shocking: what they wanted me for or the fact that they actually found other Fae people. One thing becomes crystal clear: I have to get out of the city before Silas comes back.
“Please, you have to help me get out of here,” I plead, a note of desperation in my voice.
“I can’t help you; they will kill my daughter. I am sorry, Elora,” she says sorrowfully.
I hang my head, knowing there is nothing Abigail can do.
We finish cleaning the kitchen, and Abigail instructs me to take out the garbage.
Stepping outside, I spot a truck and an idea hits me like a bolt of lightning.
The garbage man is here to collect the dumpster behind the castle—my only chance.
Is this Abigail’s way of helping me escape without actually helping? The timing is too perfect.
Heart pounding, I sprint to the bin, climb in, and hunker down. The stench makes me gag, but what other choice do I have?
A moment later, the bin jerks. This is it. I brace myself just before it lifts and tips, sending me tumbling into the truck. The violent motion churns my stomach, and when bin juice splashes over me, I lose whatever little was in my stomach.
Disgusting. At least it masks my scent.
I exhale in relief as the truck rumbles forward. Five minutes. That’s all it takes before the brakes screech.
The gate. My pulse spikes.
Voices outside. Footsteps. Someone climbing onto the back.
Shit. They’re searching the load.
Holding my breath, I burrow deeper into the trash, yanking boxes over me.
“Clear,” a voice calls out.
The truck moves again, and I scramble to the top, gulping in semi-putrid fresh air. I wait, praying for the right moment.
When the truck stops in an alley to collect another bin, I move.
Clambering up the side, I leap onto the lifted bin and then onto a retaining wall behind it. I don’t look back.
Running. Jumping fences. Cutting through alleyways.
I know this city like the back of my hand. Getting home is easy.
I finally arrive and look upon my front door, taking a deep breath.
When I open the door, the worst smell I’ve ever smelled plagues my nostrils.
I nearly threw up again. Grandma, I realize, her body is still here.
Gasping, I peg my nose with my fingers. Stopping in the hall, I fight the urge to look into the lounge room.
I didn’t want to see her dead body still sitting on the couch.
I also didn’t want to relive that night.
I need to remember her the way she was before all this and right now.
At this moment, I have one task, and that is to find some clothes and the book my grandmother hid under the floorboards.
I then need to escape the city and find elsewhere to live.
The city has never been safe for me, but with the return of Silas and him knowing of my existence, it is now a death wish to stay.
I find my room exactly the way I left it the night I was awoken to the screams of our neighbors.
The bed is still a mess, and the lamp is still on.
I flick it off and walk to the corner to rummage through my clothes that are in the basket, grabbing some jeans and a hoodie.
I scrub the garbage juice from my face and get dressed.
I don’t want to shower because as gross as it is, the rubbish will cloak my scent.
Not only that I also don’t exactly have time.
I run into the hall and use my fingers to pry up the first floorboard, grabbing the book that is wrapped in white cloth and tucking it inside my hoodie pocket.
Looking up the hall toward my bedroom, I feel a deep sense of sadness knowing I am leaving my grandmother’s dead body without giving her a proper burial.
I also know she would’ve wanted me to survive.
Once outside, I take one final look at my home then leave, taking off at a run, toward the forest that lines the edges of the city.
As long as I can get through the thick forest to the fence, I stand a chance of survival.
Once there, I can climb over and escape the confines of the city, into the unknown.
While it may sound easy, I remember the border fence is always under surveillance with guards everywhere.
If I can just find an opportunity, a moment, to climb the barbed wire fences while they look the other way… I stand a chance.
I spend all day trekking through the rough forest terrain.
By the time I’m about halfway through, night begins to fall, and the temperature drops considerably.
Nights in the city are always unforgiving.
I just hope it doesn’t snow. The ground is already cold enough without shoes and only socks.
Snow will not only slow me down, it might just make me freeze to death.
The night completely sets in, and I can just make out the full moon making me curse.
Full moons supercharged most night creatures, and I know Vampires would likely be guarding the border.
When I hit a small clearing, I know I’m not far from the border’s edge, now.
Peering out and around the tree line I bee line straight for the cover of the trees on the other side of the clearing.
Nearly to the tree line, I hear howls and wings off in the distance.
Looking up, I see a massive Dragon fly over the clearing.
Dropping to the ground, I hide amongst the grass praying to the fates they don’t see me.
Certain the coast is clear, I lift my head, peeking around the clearing.
Voices echo in the distance—men shouting.
I stay hidden in the long grass, too afraid to move, too afraid to even breathe as their footsteps draw closer.
Their voices grow louder. Too close.