Chapter Fourteen Fauns Ruin #2
The twisting black lines were dozens of creatures locked in a violent, chaotic dance.
Wolves and hawks with bared claws, serpents coiling around necks, talons raking through fur and flesh.
And through it all, fire and wings—large, dark wings—wrapped around the entire scene, almost like a cage, enclosing the chaos within.
The horse shifted suddenly, snorting, and Lennox gave a sharp tug on the lead, making a low, rumbling sound that she felt more than heard. It was deep, gravel-rough, something almost primal.
She couldn't just stand here--staring. She finally dropped her head, and turned towards the other annoying animal in her life. Faun was already staring at her, as if he already knew what she was here to do. If sheep could smirk, this one was doing just that to Adan, and she bared her teeth at him.
Faun didn't flinch. If anything, the sheep seemed delighted by her frustration, the glimmer in his dark eyes practically daring her to make the first move.
His tail gave an arrogant little flick, and he pawed at the grass like he was preparing to charge—a ridiculous gesture, considering he was only a sheep.
Every attempt, every lung for him, was useless. She had to have patience, slow her breathing and take her time. Faun was fast and infuriatingly clever, and she was sick of running herself ragged while he danced just out of reach.
The sheep's ears flicked forward, watching her carefully. His legs tensed slightly, preparing to bolt. Adan was consumed with the fact that Faun purposely waiting for the last minute before he bound away from Adan's grasp. The closest she got was the brush of his wool against her fingertips.
This shouldn't be so hard.
So, instead of closing in, she bent slightly at the knees, arms loose at her sides. Her movements were slow and controlled. Her breathing steady. She kept her gaze trained on him, unwavering.
Attacking Faun head on--never worked.
Wait for it.
Adan's pulse slowed, her muscles coiling tight. She counted each breath.
Wait.
Faun made his move first, bolting to the side, clearly expecting her to lunge—just like she always did.
But she didn't. Instead, she pivoted sharply on her heel and cut across his path.
He hesitated, surprised by her sudden redirection.
Just enough of a pause for her to get ahead of him. Her heart leapt in her chest.
Got you.
Faun wheeled around to double back, but Adan was already moving. She cut him off again, quick on her feet, anticipating his next turn. Her legs burned, still sore from the day before, but she pushed through it, her breath coming sharp and steady.
Faun twisted again, angling toward the far corner of the pen.
Trap him. She pressed harder, pushing him toward the fence, giving him fewer and fewer escape routes.
She was gaining on him. Her gloved fingers grazed the coarse wool of his flank, but Faun kicked sideways at the last second, slipping from her grasp.
Her hands clenched into fists. "No, you don't," she snarled under her breath, lunging after him. But instead of charging blindly, she feinted left—just a fraction—before cutting sharply right.
Faun took the bait.
He bolted in the wrong direction, right into the corner of the pen.
His eyes widened in surprise just before Adan leapt.
Her arms wrapped around his middle, legs digging into the dirt as she wrestled against the panicked, thrashing animal.
He bucked violently, nearly tearing free, but she held on, her gloved fingers curling into his thick wool, determined not to let go.
She had him. Even as he bucked, kicking and squirming in her arms. She threw her weight into it, anchoring him--and he stilled.
She had him! "HA!" she barked out, voice hoarse but giddy. She was so drunk on her triumph, so dizzy with adrenaline, that she barely heard the slow, steady clapping behind her. Adan's head snapped up, and her eyes narrowed at the infuriatingly smug figure leaning casually against the fence.
Lennox, still shirtless, arms folded, a slow, devilish smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. "Well," he drawled, eyes glinting with a wicked sort of amusement. "Look at that." The corner of Nox's mouth quirked up higher, his voice mockingly impressed. "You caught a sheep."
--
Adan spent the remainder of the day in her room, skipping dinner and only leaving it to use the bathing room at the end of the hall.
She spent it staring vacantly out the window in a large reading chair.
It wasn't until the dark blanket of night fell that Adan ventured out.
Nox had left Adan with a lot to brood about, and she did that best under the cloak of darkness.
She opened her window wide to the night air and inhaled deeply.
There was no attic in Nox's home, it made it easy for Adan to pull herself up and onto the roof.
Careful of the chimney, she leaned against it while straddling the peak, the singles digging into her legs.
It was a cold evening, the grip of winter still lingered, but she couldn't feel the sting of the chill.
Rooftops were the closest Adan ever got to flying.
With the exceptions of when Nox flew with her.
She missed it--everything about it. To be born to fly, and not allowed to, for fear of loosing your life.
It had broken something in Adan. She had to cut that essential part of herself out just to survive.
Just like how she had cut out her own womb.
Her head fell back against the rough brick of the chimney.
The bright stars hung low in the night sky, watching—listening.
The beauty of the countryside was unmatched, in Adan's opinion. She had never known anything better than stars, the lights of the city always chased them away. Unfortunately, the beauty of the night sky could not distract her from playing the worst night of her life over and over again in her head.
She brought her knees to her chest, the best she could with keeping her balance in the middle spine of the roof. Her chin dropped on them and a deep sigh fled her mouth.
Could she allow herself to feel it now? Away from the city centre, away from the king and his vicious son.
Did it matter, she would probably be dead soon.
The king had sent her away and would soon summon her back.
She might have escaped him for now, but she was not free.
The tattoos on her cheek bone, a constant reminder of who held her leash.
Did she have to keep up those walls now? Nox had told her who he was, that he was helping lead the rebels.
He is a prick.
She huffed, wrapping her arms around her legs to keep her centred.
But he's not wrong. An irritating voice clawed at her innermost thoughts. She ground her teeth and whipped her head back so quickly she felt the chimney shake. Wincing and holding her breath until she was certain that it wasn't going to crumble.
The last time she used her wings, she had used them to escape that worst night of her life.
She was certain that someone would have spotted those bright red wings on the small body of an eight-year-old girl in her nightgown. Leaving a wake of smouldering forest behind her. But no one did.
No one found Adan--not for a whole year.
A year when Adan lived alone in the woods.
Surviving mostly on luck and skills already taught to her by her older brothers, and her father.
Until Czandra found her, on the edge of starvation.
Adan was forced into the local village in search of food when Czandra found her.
Sometimes Adan thought of that year alone in the dark woods was worse than anything else that she had experienced in her short life.
Which was saying something because she has a-fuck-ton-of-trauma.
There were woods in the distance of Nox's property, but it was mostly rolling green hills.
And at this time of night she could barely make out the details that far into the distance.
She was no longer scared of the darkness and horrors of the woods, that was burned away long ago.
Her gaze slipped back up to the twinkling stars above looking down on her like fated busy-bodies.
Mocking her with winks and knowing bobs.
She noticed then a dark, fast-moving cloud—no, not a cloud.
Bits of the night stars winked out, until the dark shadow moved closer, and she knew before he landed. His scent of dark amber whiskey, dulled to perfection with rain after a storm, wrapped around her.
Adan spine and mental walls snapped into place at his arrival. He landed with a muted thud, the shingles barely groaning beneath his weight. He stood there for a moment, still as stone, his wings stretched out behind him, a vast expanse of black blending seamlessly into the night sky.
Adan was thankful that he at least had a shirt on, which was also black and tucked into loose fitting jeans and boots. Dust from the fields and working the horses brightened his dark pants.
He folded his massive, ominous wings to accommodate the tight space of the roof. The edges faintly dusted with the golden light of the stars he had just flown through. Adan's eyes lingered there, against her better judgment.
The sharp, sleek edges glimmered faintly in the dim light, so black they almost looked blue. His wings were nothing like her own—they were heavier, meant for power over grace, for force over speed. Demonic.
"Why not make this cottage's roof accessible like your city home?" She asked for no other reason than to fill the silence and her curiosity.
He raised a slow eyebrow, and shrugged, crossing his arms.
"Its Asha's home. It is her choice to do what she wishes with it."
Adan nodded slowly glancing away. So he had bought Asha a home, no doubt to save her from her life as a whore.
Nox must really love her to care that much--to go that far for someone.
In truth Lennox had given up a home for Adan--but she pushed that thought way down.
She would never willingly be the other woman.
Maybe it was the way his heart broke at the defeated look on her face.
Or it was the adrenaline riding his bones after a flight.
"I am sorry for earlier. I had no right to ask..."
Nox always pushed people, it was hard for him to hold back, especially with her.