Chapter 23 In the Name of Love #2
I didn’t see the ground give way beneath my foot until it was too late.
I went down hard, pain flaring through my knees and palms as I hit the earth, breath knocked from my lungs in a sharp, helpless gasp.
For a moment, I stayed there, stunned, chest heaving as I sucked in air that tasted of rot and damp stone.
I felt the cuts on my knees stinging, making me hiss when I pushed myself up. My hands came away slick.
I stared down at them, heart stuttering.
The earth beneath me was alive with remains, fragments of bone and fabric ground together into the soil. With a sick lurch, I realized there were fingers too, curled and broken, tangled in roots and maggots that fed greedily on what was left.
A sound brushed past my ear.
“Alex, I'm here!”
I spun toward it, heart slamming violently, and I got to my feet, nearly losing my footing again.
Nothing.
The forest stood silent, watching.
A cold realization settled over me then. I wasn’t following him anymore.
I was being led.
My breath hitched as I took a step back, then another, dread finally breaking through the fog of hope that had driven me this far.
“No,” I whispered, shaking my head. “No, this isn’t real.”
A soft glow caught my eye.
Ahead, nestled between the roots of a massive, twisted tree, something pulsed gently, casting emerald light across the ground. Recognition slammed into me so hard it stole my breath.
The plant.
The same one from the Labyrinth, its fungal growth curling delicately around itself, veins of green light threading through translucent flesh. Medicinal, Aster had said. Used to still the body. To knock people unconscious. But for me, it would most likely be deadly.
“No,” I breathed, backing away as my eyes shot from one green glow to another. They were growing clusters at tree roots, next to bushes, clinging to fallen logs.
They were everywhere.
I turned suddenly, and for half a heartbeat, I wondered if the horror on my face was painted in a green hue as I screamed stupidly the second the poisonous dust was blown in my face.
The cloud of luminous green powder was one I inhaled before I could stop myself.
The taste was bitter and metallic as it burned down my throat and into my lungs.
I coughed violently, staggering back, my vision already starting to blur as the forest tilted sickeningly around me. My limbs grew heavy, sluggish, as though gravity itself had doubled its hold.
Strong arms caught me before I could hit the ground.
I struggled weakly, panic screaming through me as my body refused to obey. My muscles betrayed me, but my mind stayed clear, painfully lucid, as I was effortlessly lifted and carried deeper into the woods.
This wasn’t Theron’s doing.
The realization crashed down on me with brutal clarity.
The watchers. The feeling of being followed. The sense of unseen eyes from the moment we stepped through the Rift. They had been waiting, biding their time until I was foolish enough to walk into the dark alone.
My vision swam, edges warping, but consciousness clung stubbornly, the drug behaving differently in my veins than it should have. I could feel everything. The sway of movement. The press of arms around me. The wrongness of it all.
Then the forest groaned.
It wasn’t loud at first, just a low, deep vibration that rolled through the ground beneath us.
Subtle enough that I might have missed it if I hadn’t already been on edge.
But then the trees shuddered, leaves trembling, and a sharp crack split the air as a nearby trunk fractured, its bark hardening mid-splinter.
Enough to get whoever carried me to pause his steps.
Stone crept outward from the break, spreading unnaturally fast.
Another sound followed, deeper this time. A furious noise that wasn’t a roar or a shout, but something more dangerous, threaded with power that made the forest itself recoil.
The ground shook once more.
Roots burst from the earth, thickening, hardening, locking into place like stone. Trees twisted violently, their bark crystallizing into stone as the land answered a command it recognized all too well.
Whatever had taken me stumbled, a sharp curse breaking free as the world turned against them. I jostled in their hold, making me wonder how long it would be before arms dropped me.
And in that moment, as the Badlands rose in defense of whoever commanded it, I heard him. The one who was letting his power be known, and one thing was startlingly clear…
The Gorgon King was not happy.
“You have something of mine!” The growl of words was strengthened by the stone trees framing the shadow of him. Arching around him like they worshipped him.
I now understood with terrifying clarity why Theron did not need to shout to command fear. Because when he lost control, the land itself changed.
And he was coming.
The man carrying me screamed.
It was ear-splitting, the sound tearing free from his throat as the ground beneath his feet hardened without warning, stone crawling up his legs, locking him in place mid-step.
He staggered, nearly dropping me as his balance failed.
His grip tightened reflexively before his arms were wrenched apart by roots that burst from the earth with violent force.
I hit the ground hard, pain flaring through my side as the air left my lungs in a ragged gasp, but as quickly as it came, it was gone again. Lost to the sight of the shadowed figure of the king.
The forest was still changing.
Even more trees twisted violently, their bark crystallizing into pale stone, leaves shattering into dust as branches snapped under their own sudden weight. Stone spread outward in jagged patterns, veins of grey and white racing across the soil.
And then he stepped further out of the dark. The moonlight shining down on him now that the canopy overhead had changed.
Theron did not run.
He did not rush or issue threats. No, just breathing the same air we were breathing was enough of a threat. He appeared, emerging from between the trees as though the forest had parted for him alone. His presence pressed down on the air, making it hard to breathe.
Then I saw his eyes.
The green had disappeared, given way to a burning golden copper, but something burning from within. Power rippled beneath his skin, like stone bleeding through flesh in fleeting flashes. Marble and muscle exchanged places as though his body could no longer decide which form to wear.
The man who had taken me tried to move.
Needless to say, he didn’t get far.
Theron lifted one hand, fingers curling slowly, deliberately, and the forest answered.
Roots surged upward, snapping around limbs, crushing bone with a sound that made bile rise in my throat.
Stone climbed greedily over his screaming body, sealing his mouth mid-cry, freezing his expression into a mask of pure terror.
I couldn’t scream.
I couldn’t move.
I watched helplessly as Theron crossed the space between us in long strides, every step leaving the ground beneath him hardened and cracked. My abductor managed to break free with a flash of light that could have been magic. Then he ran, lunging toward Theron with a blade raised in shaking hands.
Theron didn’t look impressed.
He caught the man by the throat mid-swing, lifting him effortlessly from the ground, fingers tightening. There was a sound like stone grinding against stone, and then the body went slack, skin hardening again instantly, eyes glazing over as life was finally ripped away.
He let the statue fall, and it shattered on impact.
The silence that followed was heavy. Broken only by the distant settling of stone and the soft rustle of leaves that dared to move again.
Only then did Theron turn toward me.
The fury was still there, rolling off him in waves so intense it made my skin prickle. Or at least, I think it did. The sensation throughout my body was unlike anything I had ever felt, something I had to put down to the plant spores I had breathed in.
His gaze met mine, and something shifted within him. The copper dimmed slightly before seeping back to green, and the stone beneath his skin receded, leaving warm flesh behind.
He knelt in front of me, large enough that he blocked out what remained of the scene behind him, and I realized dimly that this was intentional.
So, I wouldn’t have to see it.
“Alexandra,” he said quietly.
I flinched back, now able to move slightly, realizing that the poison from the flowers hadn’t killed me but also hadn’t rendered me unconscious either. Thank God for small mercies.
However, the reaction didn’t go by unnoticed as my body recoiled before my mind could catch up. Fear of him slammed into me with fresh force now that one danger had passed. His eyes flickered with something unreadable.
“You’re afraid of me,” he murmured, not accusing, not surprised, just a simple statement. I swallowed hard. My throat was tight, and I was unable to lie even if I wanted to.
“You…” My voice cracked, useless and small. “You turned them to stone.”
“Yes,” he said.
The honesty in that one word made my breath hitch.
He reached for me, slowly giving me time to pull away if I wanted to, and when his hand closed around my wrist, it was warm and grounding. I could feel his pulse beneath my fingers. A steady and potent reminder that, despite what I had just witnessed, he was still flesh and blood.
“I will not hurt you.” His voice was gravelly and low. “Not now. Not ever.”
The words wrapped around me, gentle despite the power behind them, and something in my chest loosened just enough for me to breathe again.
“Do you understand?”
I nodded, unable to verbalize it.
“You should not have followed the voice,” he added, his reprimand quieter still. “But that mistake is no longer yours to carry.”
I would have liked to have asked what he meant by that, but the second his arms scooped under me, I gasped.
He lifted me with ease, one arm sliding beneath my knees, the other braced securely around my back.
I weighed nothing to him, carried as effortlessly as if I were part of the land he commanded.
My head fell against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heart a strange comfort against the lingering terror.
“Sleep,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “You’re safe now.”
The forest blurred as he began to walk, the world tilting gently with each step, and despite myself, despite the fear and the questions and the terrible knowledge of what he was capable of, exhaustion claimed me at last.
The last thing I felt was the warmth of his hold. The last thing on my mind, a comfort I could now trust because it was true…
It was better the devil you knew.