Chapter 4 The Headless Horseman
THE HEADLESS HORSEMAN
She doesn’t look right.
When he had lifted her into his arms and loaded her onto his horse, she had barely weighed anything. Her shockingly frail body had set his nerves on edge. Draped over his horse, he can see her with striking clarity. Something is off.
Her once luminous skin is sallow. With cheekbones sharp enough to cut himself on and hair that hangs in limp tangles down her back, something creeps into his blood. It threatens his resolve, urges him to reconsider when he would be a fool to do so.
His fingers burn with the urge to thread them through her hair. To brush them over the familiar planes of her face, but that would be unwise. He cannot be distracted by her. He’s come so far, and his revenge is already in motion.
There is no space to feel anything for her beyond hatred. He will keep her with him for a time—but only as a means to an end. Only to prolong her suffering until her confession spills from her traitorous lips. He will only be granted peace once they all fall in penance for their crimes.
The demands of his creation could not have been clearer. He was forged from rage—from a soul not at rest. In this form, he would inflict his revenge. If he wanted to find peace, those responsible would be made to pay for their deeds.
A legend he was not, but one he would surely become.
Soon, blood would coat the walls of Crow Claw’s Manor and Blackwood Castle. The duke died too quickly, but there was nothing to be done for it now. The others would just have to suffer more in his stead. Once they had paid the price, he would sink his dagger into her and end this once and for all.
Her betrayal was worse than theirs, and therefore her punishment had to be greater. It was what she deserved—all of it had been a lie. He died over a lie. She would know pain and fear the way he had. She would wallow in it until he granted her the mercy of death.
There is no room inside of him for kindness. His plan was already in motion. Resolve settles into his bones as he flicks the reins and urges his horse to go faster. The Whispering Woods rush around them in a blur as he takes her deep into the forest.
No one will find them. From this moment on, Lady Scarlett Crest is no more.