Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Ariana
I tried to move, but my limbs felt weighed down. My eyelids peeled open with effort, my vision swimming in and out of focus. Everything around me was too still. Too quiet. Like the moment right before disaster struck.
My body felt heavy. Not in the way it did after a restless night of pretending to sleep beside Victor while every sound, every shift of the mattress sent a jolt of adrenaline through me.
This was different. I felt like I’d been asleep for days and it still wasn’t enough.
I tried to remember how I’d gotten to bed. Had I even made it upstairs last night? I couldn’t recall. Maybe all those sleepless nights had finally caught up with me. Maybe without Victor looming over me, my body had seized the opportunity to get some much-needed rest.
I should have been bitter or angry over the notion that the important “business” he needed to attend to personally was most likely another woman.
I wasn’t.
As much as I hated the idea that Victor could be hurting someone else, I couldn’t deny the relief that filled me every time he went away. If his attention was on someone else, it meant it wasn’t on me, even if for only a short while.
I shifted, trying to ease the stiffness from my limbs. Slowly, the haze in my brain began to lift, and I blinked up at the ceiling. Wooden beams, like tree trunks holding up the sky.
I sat up fast, my heart going into overdrive as panic coursed through me.
This wasn’t my bedroom.
Gone were the sleek, modern lines Victor preferred. No angular furniture or marble floors.
Instead, the walls were made of deep logwood, and a massive stone fireplace stood beyond the four-poster bed that looked hand crafted.
How the hell did I get here? Where was here?
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to piece together the last thing I could remember.
Visiting my mother. The way her mind had flickered in and out like a faulty lightbulb. Her hands trembling. The nonsense she'd muttered about a man with a raven tattoo, how he was coming for me.
Then going home, feeling weighed down by the unbearable helplessness of my mother’s slow deterioration. Working in the garden, desperate for a distraction from my life.
Then the black bird watching me from the branches.
After that, there were a few flashes, disjointed and eerie.
The hum of an engine. Cold glass against my cheek. Trees blurring past like angry brushstrokes on canvas. A man’s silhouette.
Gasping, I darted my gaze down to my body and blew out a relieved breath when I saw I was still fully dressed. Jeans. T-shirt. Socks. No sneakers.
But also… No blood.
I was still intact. For now.
Flinging off the heavy covers, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. The moment I stood, the world swayed, and I braced myself against the nightstand.
I didn’t care if I was dizzy. If I had trouble walking. I had to get out of here.
I staggered toward the door, fully expecting for it to be locked. But the knob turned with little effort.
Was it a trap? A test? Would some vicious monster greet me once I opened this door?
It didn’t matter if that were the case. I wasn’t going to give up without a fight.
My pulse thundered in my ears as I eased the door open, mentally preparing myself for anything and everything.
But there was nothing. No vicious monster. No wall of guards. No trap.
I cautiously looked up and down the hallway bathed in soft amber light before slipping out of the bedroom, my feet silent against the wood floors.
The place was eerily still, the only sound the faint ticking of an unseen clock and the wind outside.
I crept down a wide staircase, clutching the thick banister to steady myself.
The scent of pine and burning logs clung to the air.
At the bottom, the cabin opened into a cozy living room complete with vaulted ceilings, a handcrafted hearth, and a wall of windows gazing out over an endless sea of trees.
I spotted the front door and bolted for it. I half-expected alarms to shriek or locks to slam into place. But as I yanked the door open and a blast of cold air slapped me in the face, nothing happened.
A voice in my head warned me it was probably a setup, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t going to stay to find out, regardless of the fact that I didn’t have any shoes or other winter gear to protect me against the frigid temperatures.
I stepped onto a wide porch, the world stretching vast and gray in every direction. No driveway. No road. Just a dirt and gravel path that disappeared into thick woods.
I took off, veering into the cover of the trees while still trying to follow the dirt path, sharp branches lashing my face.
The frozen ground bit into the soles of my feet through my socks, the snow making them damp and cold.
My lungs burned, every breath feeling like glass shards slicing down my throat.
Still, I ran.
But despite how hard I pushed myself, it felt like I was getting nowhere, the forest twisting around me like a maze. Trees all the same height. The same thickets. The same barren trunks and tangled underbrush.
And when I came upon a misshapen rock I’d passed before, the reality hit me.
I was going in circles.
Frustration welled inside me, and I collapsed to the ground beside the rock, my hands digging into the frozen earth, tears burning behind my eyes.
I didn’t even know where I was. No sun to orient me. No sounds except the groaning of wind through the branches.
I wanted to scream. But I knew better. Sound could draw attention.
I had to move.
I started in what I hoped would be the right direction, when a sharp crack broke the silence. And not from underneath me.
It came from behind me.
I froze, not immediately moving.
But when I heard a deep growl, I slowly turned around, my heart slamming against my ribs.
A wolf stood mere feet away, low and sleek, its yellow eyes locked on mine.
I stumbled back, and my foot caught on the rock. I tried to remain upright, but I was too weak, too exhausted, and I fell hard, my body hitting the ground with a loud thud.
The wolf lunged.
I threw my arms over my head, bracing for pain. For teeth.
For death.
A gunshot tore through the air like a thunderclap, followed by an eerie silence.
I didn’t immediately react, too stunned to even breathe. But when several seconds passed without a wolf digging its teeth into my skin, I lowered my arms.
The wolf was gone.
But I wasn’t alone.
A figure loomed just beyond the tree line, the faint curl of smoke still rising from the barrel of a rifle. He was tall, broad, hidden in shadow.
I couldn’t see his face.
But I didn’t need to.
I knew.
It was him .
The man who took me.