Chapter 23 – Raelyn
Chapter Twenty-Three
RAELYN
“No!” I cry. “No, no, no!”
The heels of Stepmother’s shoes click down the hall as she leaves me trapped in my prison. This can’t be happening. I was so close to escaping. I want to collapse into self-pity and tears. There’s no telling what new forms of torture she will come up with now.
I bring my hands to my face, trying to hold back my sobs. It’s going to be okay. I’ll figure it out. I have to.
The coppery tang of blood hits my nostrils and awakens something in me. Just like that night with the intruder, my jaw starts to ache. Unable to stop myself, I lick the blood from my fingers. I’m simultaneously disgusted but also can’t hold back the groan of delight as the taste hits my tongue.
There must be something seriously wrong with me.
I push off the floor and straighten my hair, shoving that abnormality to the back of my mind for now. I will get out of here if it’s the last thing I do.
Glaring at the locked door, I slam my fist against it in a fit of frustration, and it splinters.
I look at my hand in shock. I mean, I’ve gained some strength with all the manual labor I’ve been doing around the house, but strong enough to splinter a door?
I slam my fist on it again in the same spot, and the wood cracks enough for me to push my hand through. Hopefully Stepmother isn’t close enough to have heard. I reach through, fumbling for the door handle, but there is no key. I hold back a scream of frustration.
Okay, Raelyn, think. My mind wanders to the window above my bed. It’s small, but I can possibly squeeze through it. I’m four stories up though. If I fall . . .
I shudder. Cross that bridge later. I debate the merits of trying to break down the rest of the door, but the noise will surely have someone coming to investigate. For all I know, someone is already coming after my first attempt. The very last thing I need is for Stepmother to catch me again.
The window it is.
I climb up onto my bed and pull at it. It probably hasn’t been opened in years, and the wood has warped.
Some of that supernatural strength would sure come in handy right now.
When the window finally gives way, I almost crow with excitement. I have no idea how much time has passed and whether or not the prince is waiting for me. What if he thinks I changed my mind? No. I have to believe he’s waiting. He needs this marriage just as much as I do.
I stand up on my tiptoes to peek out the window, immediately hit with nerves when I’m reminded how high up I am.
Is there a ledge or something to land on?
I can’t see from here. Damn it. Will this even work?
I grip the edge of the window and hoist myself up and out.
I really didn’t think this through. As I lean halfway out, I’m relieved to spy a narrow ledge to my right. Perhaps I won’t die tonight after all.
When I finally make it to the slanted roof, I stop to catch my breath. Luna’s moon shines mockingly on me, and I worry once again that I’m too late.
I make my way toward the western side of the house and gardens and creep along the edge of the roof, praying to every god I can name that I won’t fall and break my neck. I still haven’t the faintest clue how I’m going to get down.
Maybe next time, you should think before you act, I chide myself.
When I finally make it to the part of the roof that faces the gardens, I peek over the edge, looking for something, anything to cling to that would help me climb down. I lean just a little too far, and my foot slips. Before I can stop myself, I’m sliding down the side of the roof toward the ledge.
Unable to hold back my shriek, my fingers scramble for purchase, and I claw into the roof, hoping to slow my descent.
My feet hit air, but I manage to grasp the edge as my body crashes into the side of the manor.
I bite back another scream when pain ricochets through me.
My fingers start cramping, barely holding the weight of me and my satchel as I dangle off the roof.
“Rae? Is that you?” a harsh whisper calls up to me.
I could almost cry with relief when I look down at the prince staring up at me in confusion.
“What in Luna’s name are you doing?”
My left hand cramps and slips, and I swing toward the manor again. “A little help would be great, Ki,” I grit out.
He mutters something under his breath before he disappears into the garden.
Where the hells did he go? I’m barely holding on, and I’m afraid my hand is going to give out at any second.
The pounding of hooves signals his return as Kian pulls up beneath me on a magnificent black stallion. “It’s okay. Let yourself fall, Rae. I’ll catch you. I promise.”
He must be insane. Surely I would crush him from this height. “I can’t,” I whimper, fear strangling me.
“Trust me. I’ve got you,” he says reassuringly.
What do I have to lose? I take a deep breath and let go, the air leaving my lungs as I fall and fall and fall . . .
“Oof!” Kian grunts as I quite literally land on top of him. The horse snorts, and I take a deep breath.
“I can’t believe you caught me.”
Kian scoffs. “I can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t.”
“Did I hurt you? Or your horse?”
“No, of course not,” Kian replies. “We do tricks all the time.”
I shudder as the adrenaline courses through me. “We should go,” I say. “Stepmother is on to us. She locked me in my room.”
Kian curses.
“If she catches us out here there’s no telling what she’ll do. She already threatened to go to the king.”
“Well then, we’d better get out of here,” Kian agrees. “That explains the servant I saw snooping in the gardens. I almost gave myself away.”
“What did you do?”
“You do realize it’s far past our meeting time, right? He went back in when the clock struck one.”
“Oh,” I say. I can’t believe he waited this long for me . . .
Kian settles me in front of him and wraps an arm around my waist, leading us out through the garden and into the woods.
The events of the night finally catch up with me, and I find myself shaking as I come down from the adrenaline.
“Rae, are you all right?” Kian asks, sounding alarmed. He pulls his horse to a stop and turns my face toward his.
“No,” I say, my teeth chattering as my entire body starts to convulse uncontrollably.
Kian jumps off and pulls me down. I’m out of control. I don’t know what’s happening to me, and Kian says something, but I can’t even comprehend his words. His firm grip with one arm around my waist keeps me up while his free hand draws soothing circles on my back as he holds me tight.
“Shhh, it’s okay, love, I’m here,” he repeats over and over.
I’m not sure how long it takes, but slowly, my heart rate comes down and my body starts to feel more like my own.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean to lose it on you like that.”
His soft chuckle rumbles through me as he continues to hold me close. “Damn, Rae, you scared me. I had no idea what to do.”
“Well, whatever you did clearly worked,” I mumble into his chest. Taking a deep breath, I inhale the scent of leather and spice, allowing it to calm me. I’m completely weak but also feel oddly safe.
“Thank you for catching me,” I say.
“No problem, love,” Kian replies. The endearment sends a flutter of butterflies dancing in my stomach instead of the usual annoyance.
I pull back and look up at him. “What now?”
Kian sighs and lets go, running a hand through his windswept hair.
“We go somewhere to wait until dawn.”
I frown. “Out here?”
He chuckles. “Where else? I can’t take you back to the palace until you’re my wife.”
Wife. Damn, that sounds strange. I’m not sure I’m ready for this.
“Come, let’s go. I know a place,” he says.
He lifts me back onto his horse and hops up behind me. Now that the shock has worn off, I can’t help but notice the way his body envelops mine. He’s hard and warm and . . . hard. I blush, grateful he can’t see in the dark.
It’s only natural. Our bodies are cramped together on this horse and every jolt makes me rub up against him. It’s just his body’s response.
Thinking it might help, I lean forward a little, but all I manage to do is grind my rear against his hardness. A grunt comes out of him, but he seems too polite to complain. If anything, my face turns an even brighter shade of red.
Lovely. What a great start to our elopement.
The silence is awkward, so I break it. “How close are we?”
“It’s not too much farther,” he grits out.
“I’m sorry, I don’t ride much,” I admit. “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable.”
He laughs. “It’s fine, love. Just try to relax—it will make it a little less bumpy.”
I try my best to sink into him, his arm holding me tightly enough that I won’t fall.
We finally make it to a clearing in the woods. It must be a common enough place to rest, as there is a firepit in the middle encircled by charred stones. Large logs are set around it, providing seating for weary travelers.
“How do you know about this place?” I ask.
“Believe it or not, this is a popular spot for some of the younger members of court to get away, especially during the spring months when the evenings are warmer. We light fires and dance and drink the night away.”
“Sounds fun,” I say. Not that I would know. I hardly ever leave the house; I certainly would never attend a court party in the woods.
Kian hops off his horse and reaches up for me. I grab hold of his arms as he takes his time lowering me to the ground. My breasts brush up against his chest, and the tingles that shoot through me are almost embarrassing. Once again, I’m grateful for the dark, my face surely a beacon of redness.
His hands gently squeeze my waist before he steps back and goes to tie up his horse.
I take a seat on one of the logs and look up at the moon and stars. They glitter, almost as if Luna approves of the evening’s shenanigans.
Kian comes back with an armful of branches that he throws into the pit, and I jump to my feet. “Do you need help?”
“I’ve got it, love. Just take a seat and I’ll have a fire going in no time.”
“Okay,” I say meekly. It’s kind of nice having someone take care of things—take care of me—again.
Kian returns with another armful of wood, and after depositing it, he cocks his head, likely noticing the way my arms are wrapped around myself and rubbing at the thin material of my dress.
In my rush to get away, I forgot to grab a cloak.
“Here,” he removes his own and drapes it over my shoulders before I can protest. “I’m sorry.
I should have offered sooner,” he admits.
“I didn’t ask.”
“You shouldn’t have to,” he scoffs. “Hells, I’m already doing a bang-up job as a husband, aren’t I?”
I can’t help the small laugh that comes out of me. “We’re not bound yet, Kian.”
“We will be.” His devilish grin sets something alight in my stomach. Hells. I can’t fall for my soon-to-be husband.