Chapter 9 #2
“No,” the creature growls. “You’re coming with me, little golden one. You’ll make a fine addition to my collection.” I can’t see its face, but I can feel the sinister smile in its voice. A marshy bog come into view and I struggle more to get out of its clutches.
This is it. This is where I’m going to die. The banshee was right. I hear a sob tear from my throat as I think about the fact that I’m going to die out here in this forest all alone. Aunt Fleur and Tom have no idea I’m even in Alinea. They’re never going to know what happened to me.
“HELP! Somebody, please!” I plead into the otherwise still forest, my voice cracking on the last word.
I expect my voice to carry on an echo through the empty forest, but it feels like the sound drops at my feet.
I’m not even sure if there’s anyone around to hear my cries in the first place.
But I hope, because that’s all I can do now.
Hope and fight back with everything I have in me.
I’d even take Bastian’s mother over this creature.
“Shush girl! You’re mine now.” I’m thrust into the bog with only my shoulders above the water because the creature is still holding my wrists.
It moves to hold both wrists with one hand while it stoops down to grab a fist sized rock with the other.
“Now let’s see about that ring, shall we?
” It flashes its teeth at me in an attempt at a smile.
The expression causes me to cringe away further.
Its teeth are all pointed, sharp and yellowed.
I still refuse to unclench my hand. The creature releases my other hand but pulls my ring-adorned hand high enough so I can’t reach without the leverage of ground beneath my feet.
I kick anyway, hoping I can connect with something in the water of the bog, but I meet no resistance.
It takes the rock and begins smashing at the bend of the ring.
I cry out in pain as the impact ricochets through the bones in my hand.
This thing is going to shatter my hand. It repeats the motion over and over again.
I can feel the cracks and snaps in my fingers telling me that several bones are broken.
The pain blinding me from taking in anything else happening around as I continue to lash out.
Finally, it halts the pounding and I let out a shaky breath at the momentary relief.
“There. Much better,” it says with another of those devious grins.
It drops the rock and reaches out its hand to drag its talons down the side of my face.
My cheek burns from the path the talons take, and I can feel moisture gathering where it’s drawn blood.
It pulls a talon into its mouth and sucks.
“Mmm, you taste as pretty as you look.” I shiver in disgust and try one last time to free myself from its grasp.
“Oh, does the little princess want to go for a swim? By all means, swim.” It releases its grip on my wrist and for half a second I’m relieved before I realize there’s no bottom to this bog and I plunge into the icy water.
The creature’s hand finds the top of my head and pushes me deeper, deeper into the bog.
I kick and try to swim back to the surface, clawing at its hand with my good one, but a swift knock to my head causes stars to cloud my vision, momentarily disorienting me.
By the time I’m able to recollect my thoughts, I can’t tell which way is up or down.
I can feel my lungs burning as they beg for me to take a breath.
I try one last time to kick towards where I think the surface is.
Once again, a hand pushes me down, down, down.
I… can’t… breathe.
Black spots start to flood my vision. Instinct takes over and I open my mouth to suck in a gasp of air but instead inhale the grittiness of the bog. I start choking, barely noticing when the pressure pushing me down disappears. My vision starts to spin and black begins to overtake my sight.
I don’t have the strength to fight against the bog dragging me further into the dark depths.
This is it.
I faintly recognize the feel of something gripping around my waist and pulling me as everything goes dark.
“Come on, come on, come on!”
I hear a voice, but it sounds far away. Distant. Almost like it’s at the end of a tunnel. Or underwater.
Or maybe I’m underwater? That would make sense considering I just drowned.
“Come on, breathe for me,” I hear the voice pleading. There’s a painful rhythmic pressure beating like a drum on my chest.
“Liv, please.” The voice sounds panicked now.
Wait. Hold on a minute.
There’s only one person who would call me Liv.
Who even knows me as Liv.
Bastian.
I must be dead or dreaming because there’s no way.
I begin to gag and choke as water makes its way up my throat. I quickly roll to the side, sputtering, coughing up nearly half the bog while I’m at it. The warming presence of a hand moves to my back and rubs soothing circles while I continue to purge the water from my lungs.
“Thank the gods,” Bastian breathes out on a relieved exhale.
Once my throat and lungs are burning, but no longer filled with water, I roll on my back and look up at Bastian who’s kneeling over me.
His face looks almost anguished, and I swear it’s probably the most emotion he’s ever shown around me.
“How—” I try to speak but my voice comes out like a croak, and it feels like I’ve swallowed liquid flames.
“Hey, take it slow. Don’t try to talk yet,” his soft voice soothes.
I take several deep breaths, until the pain begins to lessen. I swallow and then try again. “Y-you saved me,” I finally manage.
Bastian ducks his head. “Yeah, well I said I’d get you home and I can’t really do that if you go and die, can I?
” The edge in his voice causes goosebumps to rise along my exposed skin.
Or maybe that’s the cool breeze over my damp body?
He lifts his head again to meet my gaze and I can see that any sign of anguish is now replaced by an icy cool fury.
“You were supposed to wait for me to return.”
“I-I know. I j-just couldn’t s-sit around and w-wait any l-longer,” I stutter out around the chill.
“Are you being serious right now? You couldn’t wait any longer?” With every word he speaks, I can feel the leash on his anger slipping, his voice rising in volume. “So, what? You decided to head out into the realm you know nothing about and hope for the best?”
“Well, when you put it like that it doesn’t sound so great,” I grumble. “But in my defense, you took longer to return,” I mutter under my breath, well aware he’ll still hear it.
Bastian lets out an exasperated breath and rises to his feet. “Doesn’t sound so great,” he repeats with a humorless chuckle.
“I consulted a map…” I mumble, which clearly was the wrong thing to say.
“A map?!” He looks at me, eyes wild. “And how much good did that do you? Am I supposed to assume you can actually read the language of the Fae then?” I open my mouth to reply but he continues.
“No! Clearly not, because you were heading the exact opposite way of Grimhallow. Not even close to the right way,” he scoffs and shakes his head, turning and pacing away from where I’m lying.
I take the opportunity to finally take in my surroundings.
From the way the sky is darkening, I can tell the sun has nearly set.
We’re still in the marsh, not far from the bog where the creature attempted to drown me.
My eyes dart around the space, not seeing the thing.
Is it gone? Surely Bastian wouldn’t have stuck around if the creature was still a threat. Right?
I go to push myself up into a sitting position but yelp at the pain in the hand that was smashed when I put my weight on it. I use my one good hand to lift myself to a sitting position and track where he’s frozen in his pacing at my pained sound, back to me.
For the first time since waking up, I get a good look at his appearance.
He’s still wearing the black tunic and trousers from this morning, but it’s disheveled and soaking wet.
One of the sleeves is nearly torn from the torso of the tunic, hanging on by literal threads.
His wet hair is mussed as if he’s been pulling at it.
The memory of a phantom grip around my waist as I passed out flashes through my mind.
It was his arms. His grip. He jumped in after me.
He saved me. He also probably fought off that creature.
He runs both hands through his hair pushing it back out of his face. Then he turns and looks at me with a frantic gaze. “You could have died, Liv. Fuck, you almost did! If I had been even a few minutes later…” he blows out a breath, shaking his head. “Does that mean anything to you?”
“Of course it does!” I shout back. I let out a defeated sigh.
He’s right. I did almost die. And it would’ve been my fault and my fault alone if that creature had succeeded.
“Obviously it means something to me.” I pause, gathering my hands in my lap, itching to twist the now mangled ring.
Staring at my hands, I whisper, “I don’t want to die.
” I can see my injured hand begin to tremble where I have it carefully cradled in my lap as the adrenaline leaks out. “W-what was that… thing?”
Bastian’s face softens a fraction as he notices my shaky hands.
He strides back over and drops down beside me.
He pulls me into his arms and onto his lap, rubbing soothing circles on my upper back.
Besides that moment in bed this morning, this is the closest we’ve ever been, and I so badly want to hate the way it feels.
In fact, I hate the way that I don’t hate the way it feels.
The way the heat of him blankets my body in an overwhelming sense of comfort.
The way his scent envelopes my senses and my body instinctively relaxes further into his grip.