27. Bianca
27
BIANCA
D idn’t I see that tree already?
My breath comes in ragged gasps as I stumble through the dense underbrush, pushing myself forward. The woods around me are a tangled maze of towering trees and thick, thorny bushes, each step a battle against the unyielding terrain.
I’ve been out here for what feels like hours , my sense of time and distance blurred by the relentless march of my own footsteps. The sun is high overhead, filtering through the canopy in dappled patterns of light and shadow, but its warmth does little to chase away the chill that’s settled deep in my bones.
Every tree I pass looks the same as the last, a never-ending sea of green and brown that stretches out in every direction. The air is heavy with the scents of pine and damp earth, a cloying aroma that clings to the back of my throat and makes my head spin.
I pause for a moment, leaning against a gnarled oak to catch my breath. As I do so, a sinking realization washes over me.
I’m lost. Hopelessly, irrevocably lost in a wilderness that seems to have no end.
This is why I shouldn’t do anything until I have a foolproof plan.
But this opportunity had presented itself so nicely to me that I had no choice but to run, to seize my chance at freedom and never look back.
I’m kicking myself for it now. I have no idea where I’m going. I have no sense of direction, no way to navigate the twisting trails and hidden paths that wind through these woods like a labyrinth of nature’s own design.
I could run for hours , for days even. I would be willing to walk until my feet bled and my lungs burned if it meant escaping my marriage to Rork, but I also know that his property is vast, a sprawling estate that stretches out for miles in every direction.
I’m suddenly reminded of what Rork said after we were married and he was driving me to his home.
“ We’ve been driving on my land for the past half hour. My estate is quite extensive, you see .”
I clutch my throat, suddenly horrified at what I’ve done. If we were driving on Rork’s land for half an hour, how the hell am I expected to get to town on foot?
And I don’t even know where the town is! That’s even assuming the people in the town would be willing to help me if I somehow managed to stumble upon it. They are probably loyal to Rork, too, and would deliver me back to him on a silver platter.
A cold, creeping dread threatens to overwhelm me. I’m alone out here with nothing but the clothes on my back and the desperate hope of escape to keep me going. If I can’t find my way back, I might never make it out at all.
The thought sends a shiver down my spine, a jolt of fear that makes my heart race and my palms slick with sweat. As much as I hate Rork, at least with him I had a roof over my head, food in my belly, and a bed to sleep in at night.
Out here, I have nothing. No shelter, no supplies, no way to defend myself against the dangers that lurk in the shadows.
I spot a large, flat rock lying at the base of the oak tree. Stooping to pick it up, I turn it over in my hand, feeling the weight of it against my palm.
Seized by a sudden inspiration, I turn to the nearest tree and slash a deep, jagged mark into the bark.
There. A sign to show that I’ve passed this way before. This will keep me from going in circles, from losing what little sense of direction I have left.
I toss the rock aside and push deeper into the woods, my steps a little more confident now that I have a plan. I’ll keep marking my path, keep leaving a trail that I can follow back if I need to.
But as I push deeper, the trees around me seem to close in, their branches reaching out like grasping fingers to block out the sun. The air grows colder, the damp chill seeping into my bones and making my teeth chatter.
I wrap my arms around myself, trying to conserve what little warmth I have left, but it’s a losing battle, my thin shirt and jeans no match for the biting wind that whistles through the leaves.
“Stupid girl,” I mutter to myself, angry that I hadn’t thought ahead, for not grabbing a coat or a blanket or even some food before I made my desperate bid for freedom.
But there hadn’t been time. It had been a split-second decision and I took it.
And now I’m paying the price.
My feet ache and my skin prickles with goosebumps as I stumble through the underbrush, and I’m starting to wonder if I made the right choice.
Of course I did. I can’t go back. I won’t . Not after everything I’ve been through. Rork is a monster. I can’t spend one more day with him.
I’d rather die out here, cold and alone, than spend another moment under his thumb.
And cold I certainly am. My teeth chatter violently, my body racked with tremors that I can’t seem to control. But as I push some branches out of the way, my eyes straining to make out the path ahead, I suddenly realize that I’ve seen this place before.
This fallen log, the gnarled oak with its twisted branches reaching up to the sky…
It’s all too familiar, a sickening sense of deja vu that makes my stomach churn and my heart race.
And then I see it. The jagged slash mark, the one I made just minutes ago in a desperate attempt to keep myself oriented. I’m back where I started. I’ve been going in circles, wandering aimlessly through the woods like Hansel and Gretel.
The realization steals the breath from my lungs and sends a wave of despair crashing over me. I sink down onto the fallen log, my legs giving out beneath me as I bury my face in my hands.
And then, for the first time since I started this stupid journey, I let myself cry, great, heaving sobs that tear through my chest and make my body shake with the force of my misery.
I’m lost, and with every passing moment, I can feel my hope slipping away, my dreams of freedom and escape crumbling to dust beneath the weight of my own failure.
With a suddenness that makes me gasp, a thought strikes me. Rork. Has he noticed my absence? Has he realized that I’ve slipped away and made a break for freedom?
He has to have at this point.
For a moment, I feel a flicker of hope, a desperate, fragile thing that flutters in my chest like a trapped bird. Maybe he’s out there right now, searching for me. Maybe he’ll find me and bring me back to the safety and warmth of the mansion.
But even as the thought crosses my mind, I feel a sinking sense of dread because even if Rork is looking for me, even if he’s scouring the woods with every resource at his disposal, how can he find me when I don’t even know where I am? When I’ve wandered so far off the path that I might as well be in another world entirely?
I’m going to die out here , I realize with horror. I’m going to die of exposure or starvation and no one will ever find my body. Years from now, maybe someone will find my bones scattered across the earth.
My body shakes with a mixture of cold and fear at the thought. The woods around me are eerily quiet, the only sound the ragged pounding of my own heart in my ears.
And then, without warning, a loud snap echoes through the trees behind me. The sound is sharp and sudden, like a gunshot in the stillness of the forest.
I whirl around, my eyes wide and my breath catching in my throat. For a moment, as I scan the woods for the source of the noise, I’m surprised to find that I’m hoping it’s Rork, that he’s found me and has come to bring me back to safety.
My blood runs cold as my gaze settles on the figure emerging from the shadows.
Because it’s not Rork who steps out into the clearing.
It’s a cougar.
The mountain cat is massive, its tawny fur rippling over powerful muscles as it slinks toward me. Its eyes are a piercing yellow, fixed on me with a predatory intensity that makes my skin crawl.
And as it crouches low to the ground, its haunches quivering with barely-contained energy, I realize with a sickening certainty what’s about to happen.
It’s going to pounce.
Time seems to slow at a crawl. I can see every detail with a startling clarity, from the way the cougar’s claws dig into the soft earth to the way its tail twitches with anticipation.
I know with certainty that I’m about to die. I’m going to be torn apart by this wild beast, my body left broken and bleeding on the forest floor. No one will ever know what happened to me. It’s doubtful anyone will ever find my remains after the cougar is done with me.
I’ll just be another nameless victim, another cautionary tale about the dangers of wandering off into the wilderness alone.
Even as the thought crosses my mind and I feel the icy hand of fear closing around my heart, I refuse to go down without a fight.
I may be lost, but I’m certainly not helpless . I’m Nico Marino’s daughter, and if I’m going to die out here, I’m going to make damned sure that I take this overgrown housecat with me.
Rising to my feet, I snatch a branch off the ground and square my shoulders, lifting my chin in a show of defiance as I stare down the cougar.
“Come on, then,” I snarl, my voice rough with fear and adrenaline as I hold the branch in a defensive stance. “Let’s see what you’ve got, you fucker.”
The cougar’s ears flatten against its skull, its lips peeling back to reveal gleaming fangs. It lets out a low, rumbling growl that sets my teeth on edge, but I refuse to let it see my fear.
And then, with a suddenness that startles me, it leaps.
I scream.