Chapter 12 Scarlett
SCARLETT
Krane is alive.
The reality of those words shocks me to my core. He is alive, and he is the Headless Horseman. How can that be? Why has this all happened? Confusion flows through me. I am a mess of conflicting emotions, but one outweighs them all. Happiness.
Krane is alive—my Krane.
It all seems so obvious now. The familiarity in the Headless Horseman’s touch.
How part of me knew him even if I didn’t know how.
I can see it all now—feel it too—his familiar heartbeat pounds against my flattened palm.
The soft brush of his soul against mine as we stare at each other is a feeling I know all too well.
So what if he has a pumpkin for a head? I love him just the same. I’d recognize him in any form.
“You were dead,” I whisper. “I saw the body. How did you—why did you—”
My fingers dance along his birthmark. How many hours have I spent tracing the shape? Countless. I thought I’d never touch it again, and now I can’t seem to stop.
The Headless Horseman—Krane—snarls at me before shoving me away. Instantly, I am freezing—the temperature of the dungeon plummets. The rage inside his eyes brings me up short. My Krane would never push me away. He would never look at me with anything less than adoration.
Everything makes sense to me now.
I understand his anger, even if it is misdirected.
My father’s betrayal was more complex than I could’ve ever imagined.
He made me complicit in his foul deeds. It wasn’t enough to kill Krane, but he had wanted him to suffer and think that in his final moments, I had rejected him for another.
They will all pay for their hand in this.
“Krane.”
I keep my voice soft, approaching him carefully like a wounded animal.
“Stop saying my name! Confess,” he hisses.
Taking another tentative step towards him, I hold up my hands. My small blade is still clutched in my palm, and I quickly return it to the sheath. Trying another step, he growls and fire snaps at me from inside the pumpkin.
“None of it’s true.” I swallow thickly, desperation causing sweat to slide down my back. “I never went back on my word to you. I love you.”
“Liar!” he snarls, lunging towards me.
I hold my ground. I can’t cower in the face of his rage. If there is any chance of getting him to realize the error of his thinking, I must be unwavering.
“It’s true. I’ve always loved you. From the moment you saved me from drowning in the pond when I was seven until right now. I have loved you and only you.”
Krane pulls back, his hand curling into fists at his sides. I press on undeterred.
“Look at me,” I command, gesturing towards my body. “I’ve been dying without you.”
His angry eyes track down my body. Shaking his head, I know he can see the difference in me, even if he doesn’t want to admit to it.
“What my father said to you was a lie.”
“No.”
He spits the word at me while digging into his worn pockets. Rummaging around, he pulls out a crumbled piece of parchment. It is stained with all manner of dirt and blood. The folders are deeply creased, as if read over and over.
“What would you make of this then?”
With a flick of his wrist, the parchment flies towards me.
I catch it between my palms and fold the worn pages back.
The words on the page make my stomach sour.
I devour each hateful, deceitful sentence.
All of it is a disavowing of our connection—that it was nothing more than a childhood fantasy that had gone too far.
It makes me sick to read, but I must admit the script is familiar. As is my signature at the bottom.
“I didn’t write this. It’s a forgery.”
Krane laughs without humor, his eyes dimming inside the pumpkin sockets.
“Can you do anything besides lie?”
Indignation sparks within me and loosens my tongue.
“It’s the truth.”
I can’t imagine what he’s been through. The pain of dying—of thinking I abandoned him in his final moments for the sake of money and titles. His body was twisted into this infernal form, bent on getting revenge and letting that anger fuel him. My heart begins to clench in my chest.
If I cannot break through to him, I could lose him again. This time, permanently. I wish I had a way to prove the letter was fake. If only I had—
A gasp rips through me. My hands dive into the bust of my gown. Beneath the tight boning and stiff fabric, I find what I’m looking for. The parchment crunches against my fingers as I pull it from beneath my breast.
Pulling out my creased vows, I hold them beside the offending note. I hear Krane drift closer as I survey the two writings. They are remarkably similar, just as she intended them to be.
“Look,” I say, holding up both notes to him. “Look at how the i’s are dotted here and the swirls at the end of all the y’s. Now compare them with this note.”
I thrust both papers towards him, which he thankfully takes. His eyes rove over each before looking up at me. His expression is unreadable.
“What is this?”
I cringe at the question, not wanting to answer.
“My marriage vows to Bram.”
Krane growls, flames snapping inside his pumpkin.
“More proof of your treachery.”
“I didn’t write those words,” I snap, before pursing my lips. “I mean, I did—I copied them from my mother. Whose handwriting is remarkably similar to mine.”
My heart sinks at the words I’m about to say next. Krane looks at me with unflinching awareness.
“Don’t you see? It was she who wrote this note my father gave to you.”
The depth of her betrayal hurts me. My father’s treachery was well known, but to think that she could also be complicit shocks me even now.
“I didn’t even know the duke and his son were in our house that night. After I had left you, I snuck in through the kitchens as usual. My father never alerted me to their presence—nor asked me to write a note to you.”
His eyes lock on mine, the flames unreadable.
Krane’s gaze returns to the notes. He looks them both over several times as the silence stretches between us.
My heart pounds in my chest. It reaches for him and begs him to believe me.
He knows me better than anyone; he has to know, deep down, that I would never betray him like this.
“That cannot be.”
His deep voice wavers. For a moment, my heart lifts on a hopeful wind. His shoulders slump as he looks up at me. There is uncertainty in the flames, and I hold my breath. Only for my heart to crumble at his next words.
“This is another one of your lies. Confess now, or you won’t like what comes next.”
Ice envelopes me as I take in his steely expression.
He won’t listen to me—he is too angry. There is nothing I can say now that will persuade him of my honesty.
My final resort is to lay it all bare and hope that somewhere underneath this twisted form, my Krane is there.
It is my only hope for saving both of us.
“I love you, Krane.” My voice cracks and tears slide down my cheeks, fresh and hot. “The happiest day of my life was when we handfasted in the woods that glorious night. The moon and the animals of the forest were our only witnesses.”
“Stop,” he commands, crushing the two notes in his palms.
I press on.
“In my heart, you were always my husband. I vowed to never marry anyone but you, and I meant it.”
He looks away, and I hold my breath.
“Then why didn’t you leave with me that night?”
I lick my dry lips.
“Because I was afraid," I answer honestly. “Afraid the duke’s men would come after us. I knew you didn’t have much in the way of money—we never would’ve been able to outrun them without the funds to travel. I wanted the chance to steal some of my father’s gold to help us.”
Krane says nothing. His mouth opening remains still. A few green flames flicker and snap, but his body only grows tenser. A lump settles in my throat as I stare at him. I feel the last warm tendrils of his soul slip away from mine. I’m losing him—I’ve lost him.
For the past month, I’ve longed to join him in death.
Every night, I willed myself to perish to be reunited with him.
This is more painful than death. Knowing he is still alive—even in this form—but hates me is too much to bear.
I can’t go on like this. I was scared before, but clarity finds me in the fog.
With a trembling hand, I find my thigh and unsheath the dagger. There is a flicker of awareness inside the pumpkin.
“What are you doing?” he rasps.
I swallow thickly, lifting the blade. His green flames hypnotize me.
“If you won’t believe me—if I’ve truly lost you to your hatred—then there is no reason for me to linger in this world.”
The blade kisses my throat. A trail of warm blood slips from the small knick.
I feel the crimson liquid collect along my throat.
I suck in one final breath. Memories of my past unravel before me.
Each one is beautiful and more bittersweet than the last. Krane is there in all of them, just as he is now, only without the distrust in his eyes.
“Scarlett,” he warns, stepping towards me.
I cannot waver. The look in his eyes resigns me to my fate. I try to smile, but the muscles don’t work like they should. I haven’t used them in a month after all.
“I love you, Krane.”
He snarls, stepping closer, but I will not be deterred.
“I love you even if you hate me—my sun. I’d never betray you. I can only pray that my death will prove that to you.”
Tears blur my vision, and my hand locks around the hilt of the dagger. Flames pour from Krane’s pumpkin—thicker than I’ve ever seen. He is a glorious creature. I’ll tuck the memory of him in this form away with me into whatever world exists beyond this one.
With a steadying breath, the blade presses deeper against me. Before I can make another move, there is the sound of glass shattering, and the whole room erupts in green fire.