Chapter 43 Aftermath #2
Grotesque, hairless creatures were hitched in front, looking like something out of a nightmare.
Their antlers twisted upwards like gnarled branches, and their translucent black hides appeared charred from the bright red fire roaring under their skin.
Primal hunger exuded from their gaping maws, revealing rows of razor-sharp fangs.
Luna’s muscles tightened, bracing for the moment these devil horses would pounce and devour her whole.
The second the door slammed behind her, every head swung in her direction, but it was the eyes that met hers that made her stumble backwards.
There—grinning like the fiends they were—was Harlow and Knox.
They didn’t seem to see through whatever Nina had done to her. To them, she was Nina, and she wasn’t a person; she was a prize, a victory, and pride radiated in every sharp line of their smiles.
Damien stood nearby, locked in a tense discussion with one of the Darkened One’s men.
The stranger’s skin was deeply tanned, his sandy-brown hair falling in short windswept waves that looked more wild than styled.
A crooked nose cut across otherwise strong features, like it had once been broken and never properly set.
When he turned towards her, eyes a shade between green and blue caught the light—striking, sharp, and oh, so very unsettling.
“So it’s true,” the man said, his voice low, curling at the edges like smoke. A smile spread slow over his lips as he straightened, the shift in his posture as much of a threat as the weapons sheathed at his belt. “Nina has returned.”
No. Luna shook her head. No.
Fear renewed in her body, jolting through her like lightning. She screamed into the gag, to tell them she wasn’t Nina, but the words came out muffled and incoherent.
“I don’t think she wants to go with you,” Harlow drawled with a chuckle, like this was the very show he’d rushed back from the human lands to see. He lounged against the carriage, unbothered by its flames. “Looks like that charm of yours has expired, Crawford.”
“Maybe I should be the one to take her,” Knox cut in, releasing his fingers from the mane of a devil horse as he stepped forward. His smile was all teeth. “She’ll be all nice and tame by the time I’m done.”
Crawford’s head snapped towards them, his tail swishing slowly side to side. “Keep running your mouths, and I’ll make sure neither of you has one left.”
Both men straightened, edging back just enough to show they understood.
Luna’s gaze stayed on Damien the entire time, barely aware of the men’s exchange. He was her only hope. Her knight in shining armour.
But he stood rigid with his jaw set, his eyes never moving from the carriage.
Luna pulled against the rope binding her and Gregory’s ironclad grip, desperate for him to see her. To see behind what Nina had done. “Damien!” she pleaded, her words once again lost against the fabric of her gag.
His equine-like ears didn’t even flick towards her as he cleared his throat and said, “You have your proof. Now, release Arleen.”
Any remaining hope faded, and the absolute doom of her situation struck her to her core: Everyone here thought she was Nina—even Damien thought so.
Again, she would be a captive, helpless, and at the mercy of others.
Luna stomped her hoof. Screw that. Like hell she would be.
That was the only warning she gave before she threw her body forward. The sudden movement caused Gregory’s footing to falter.
His grip loosened and she shot forward, bolting.
Every stride drove her muscles harder, faster. Freedom waited just beyond the trees, she only had to reach them.
Surely a life with the fae would be better than this.
Her legs pumped—half human, half unicorn—each step eating the ground beneath her. Her pulse roared in her ears, pushing her forward. She was faster than she’d ever been as a human, her unicorn hooves adding impossible speed to her run.
But Gregory was faster. In a heartbeat, his arms were around her again, yanking her back.
Screeching like a wild animal, she kicked out as hard as she could. Her hooves hit flesh, striking his legs, but it was no use.
His grip only tightened, pinning her against his chest.
Desperate, Luna reached for her powers.
The instant she connected to it, the rope binding her hands heated, electrifying her skin with tiny pulses of shock. The pain was minor—a mere warning.
Her magic recoiled and she cursed, the sound muffled by the gag in her mouth.
“I guess you were good for something after all, Lowly Prince,” Crawford noted, speaking Damien’s title with disdain.
Damien’s voice was hard, clearly annoyed. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Shrugging with one shoulder, Crawford glanced backwards. “As you wish.”
With that command, there was the distinct click of the carriage door, and then it swung open.
A woman stepped out. Her soft brown hair was loosely pinned up, and she wore a long, silky emerald green dress embedded with various jewels. Her skin seemed to glow, and her cheeks were full, with a hint of redness brushed onto them.
“Arleen,” Damien breathed out, the tension dropping from his face, then shoulders, as relief took over.
Her eyes were soft, almost twinkling, and her pink lips were turned upwards, smiling at Damien. With the same grace Winta possessed, she approached him, the train of her dress dragging behind her. Despite living in hell for however long, she looked beautiful. Radiant even.
Crawford paid little heed to Damien or her.
His attention remained transfixed on Luna, watching her, desire flickering in his eyes as if he could undress her with a single thought.
Turning her body as much as Gregory would allow, Luna looked elsewhere as if that would be enough to shield herself from him.
He chuckled in response, his voice rumbling through the air, causing the hairs on the back of her neck to rise. “It’s good to see you again, Nina.”
Luna kept her eyes steady on the naked trees surrounding them, refusing to acknowledge him any further.
Damien closed the distance between Arleen. His shadows danced around her, shielding her from the Darkened One’s men lest they change their minds about exchanging her.
As sweet as the reunion was, Luna couldn’t help but feel bitter. Flexing her arm, she shifted her weight, and to her surprise, Gregory let go.
She took the chance to run—again . . . and again, she didn’t get far.
In an instant, Crawford was in front of her. His hand shot out, fisting the fabric of her shirt. The sudden stop pulled her off balance, and she stumbled forward, the momentum sending her straight to his waiting arms.
His hands locked around her waist, squeezing her tight against him. A solid wall of muscle and armour pressed against her back, keeping her in place. Still, she struggled for freedom.
His grip painfully tightened, his fingers bruising her flesh.
Slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, he dipped his head, nose brushing her hair as he inhaled.
She froze. The fight bled out of her as disgust curled in her stomach. She shuddered and tried to lean away, twisting her shoulders until the rope at her wrists bit into her skin. But every inch of distance she created, he closed.
With her hands tied behind, and no other option, Luna brought her hoof down on his foot. Hard.
Crawford howled, “You little witch.”
He deserved worse—hounds behaved better than him.
Before she could strike again, his arms hooked around her knees. In one brutal motion, he swept her off her feet and slung her over his shoulder.
Luna roared, fury tearing through her as she thrashed against his body. Bucking and jerking, she hurled her weight this way and that, desperate to break free, but he held firm.
Frantically, she kicked her legs. Nothing with enough strength to affect him landed; her hooves only swung wildly through the air.
“I did miss your fire,” Crawford cooed as he strolled towards the carriage.
In the distance, Luna heard Damien ask Arleen, “Did they hurt you? Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” Arleen answered, her voice filled with a heartwarming smile that, if Luna wasn’t busy trying to fight off this hound, she was sure she would have seen.
Crawford tried to set her down inside the carriage, but Luna held her legs wide, her hooves pushing against the edges of the door, refusing to enter. Harlow and Knox closed in, surrounding her so that even if she were to get free, there would be nowhere to run.
“Fight all you want, Nina. It only makes the trip more interesting,” Crawford said, his breathing ragged as he struggled to control her.
Knox reached out, his fingers caressing her hair, grabbing a lock around his finger and giving it a small tug.
“As much as I like watching others do things the hard way, there are more enjoyable options . . .” A smile that could only be described as evil curved his lips as he added, “At least for me.”
She felt it then. Knox’s presence sliding into her mind—not like someone barging in through a door, but like silk gliding over skin.
He didn’t storm it, he only drummed along it. Slow. Patient. Each tap a vibration, rippling down into the weave of her mind.
His touch skimmed along the threads of her thoughts, her memories, the fragile line of her will. Then he tugged, light at first, almost curious. The thread strained under his touch. She groaned as he drew it taut, thin as a hair.
Her breath hitched. A sharp ache rippled through her chest as every part of her felt ready to give way. Ready to break.
A ragged sound tore from her throat as her knees buckled.
In an instant, Crawford was there, shoving him back.
Immediately, the claws retracted and sweet, beautiful relief followed.
“Get your grubby paws off what’s mine,” Crawford sneered.
Mine? The word chilled her as much as Knox slipping into her head.
Knox sat back on his heels, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Fine. Do it the hard way then.”
“Good,” Damien answered his sister, completely oblivious to the utter hell Luna was experiencing. “Marion, take her inside before they change their mind.”
Marion must have nodded in agreement because she said, “Come, Arleen. I’ll make you a pot of tea and help you settle in.”
Impatiently, one of the creatures hooked up to the carriage pawed at the ground, causing it to rock. Their clawed feet sent shards of burnt earth flying in all directions.
Luna lost her footing as the carriage lurched and Crawford seized the opportunity. He grabbed her legs forcefully, pushing them together and shoved her inside.
With a hard thud, Luna landed on the carriage floor, her face colliding with the boards, bruising her cheek.
“I’ll be there in a minute,” Damien called out. “I need to have a word with Nina before we send her off . . . for Luna’s sake.”
How kind of him, Luna internally grumbled.
With her arms still tied behind her back, she wiggled her body until she managed to get herself into an upright sitting position. No thanks to Crawford, who keenly watched her as she struggled and, like the bastard he was, kept his hands to himself the entire time.
Once she was sitting on the bench, he slammed the carriage door closed and, with a grunt, told Damien, “Quickly then. I don’t have all day.”
“Luna? Who’s that?” Arleen asked, her voice surprisingly perky, as if she wasn’t watching someone being exchanged for her.
She screamed into the gag, Me! I’m Luna! If only she could get this damn thing out of her mouth, then she could tell him that.
Through the window, she saw Damien sigh. A soft smile curved his lips as he said, “The starlight to my shadows.”
“You met someone capable—”
“The perfect match for me.”
“I see,” Arleen replied, her voice holding a note of sombre.
There was a quiet pause, the kind that seemed to stretch, before she giggled.
The sound was too light, too practiced—unusual enough that it almost hurt to hear.
It didn’t match the tenseness of the moment at all.
“The weight of the skies looks good upon your shoulders, brother.”
“I don’t know if she . . . I haven’t asked her . . .”
“Then we will talk more, yes? After I rest.”
Nodding, Damien turned towards the carriage as Marion and Arleen slipped in the skull building.
He called out to her, his voice, though attempting to be soothing, sounded sharp and impatient. “Nina, it’s going to be okay.”
Luna shook her head. He had no idea how wrong he was. She wasn’t Nina—and when the Darkened One discovered she couldn’t break his curse, nothing would be okay.
He hadn’t earned his name for nothing.
And failure wouldn’t just be punished, she knew it would be her end.
“That’s your decision to make, I guess,” Damien said, taking her body language as refusal.
He let out a large exhale and then asked, “Would it make you feel better if I promised to check on you? Luna will want to know how you are doing, anyway.”
There would be nothing to check on. She knew that deep in her heart too.
Realizing now would be the only time she had to say goodbye, she turned her head, arching her back so that she could look at Damien. Really look at him—at his beautiful green eyes that always took her breath away.
He smiled down at her, his eyes softening, and for a moment, Luna thought she saw recognition in them.
He shook his head as if he was clearing his vision. His brows knitted together, and for the first time today, he showed concern. “Where’s Luna?”
Behind him, Gregory scoffed as if Damien was asking the world’s stupidest question “Inside, I saw her before we came out here.”
“Go check on her—No. Wait. I’ll go check on her.” He took several steps away from the carriage before he called over his shoulder to Crawford, “Don’t move a damn muscle until I get back.”
Hope fluttered in Luna’s chest. He knew. Maybe not entirely. But he suspected something was off . . . and that was enough.
Crawford said nothing as Damien ran back into the skull building.
Once Damien was out of sight, he rolled his neck backwards, and with a grumble, he told Gregory, “I don’t have time to wait for someone else to say their goodbyes.”
With a grin, Harlow and Knox swung onto the back of the carriage, tapping the roof, signalling they were ready to go.
Crawford then opened the carriage door and shoved Luna over to climb in.
She fell sideways on the bench and had to shuffle her body in order to get back into an upright sitting position.
“The Darkened One waited years for her. He can wait five more minutes,” Gregory said.
Crawford called out through the window, “Yeah, but I’d rather not test his patience.” And with the click of his tongue, the devil horses reared. Flames licked out from all directions of the carriage, throwing Gregory back as they spread their black leathery wings and took flight.