Chapter 2 #2
I scanned the hollow for another way out.
The rock walls curved high overhead, sealing the space beneath that natural dome, and the only clear exit was the narrow passage we had just come through.
Shadows pooled beyond the torchlight, thick and impenetrable.
There could be another path hidden back there, but I couldn’t count on it.
If I got free, that pass was my best shot.
Either that, or risk going down the cliff with no gear.
Not ideal. Not even remotely safe. But I would take a deadly climb over whatever that tree and slab were meant for.
My rider guided the caribou toward the largest tent at the back of the hollow. It stood apart from the others, its heavy canvas almost black in the dim light, seams reinforced with thick, glistening thread.
The animal stopped. The rider swung down with practiced ease, his boots crunching against frost-covered stone.
He turned toward me, and his hood slipped back just enough to reveal a hard jaw shadowed with dark stubble and a cruel smile that made my blood run cold.
I knew him. He was one of the men who had grabbed me during the Night Court attack and wanted to rape me.
A black flame tattoo marked the base of his cheek and curled down his throat, the rest hidden beneath his coat.
“Well, well.” His voice was a low rasp, threaded with mockery. “The little bird is awake. Enjoy the ride, sweetheart? I was hoping you’d sleep through it. Not that it matters. We’ve got you trussed up like a pig for slaughter. You’re not going anywhere.”
I glared at him over the gag, pouring every ounce of hatred I had into it. If looks could kill, he’d be dead. Now I wished I had that kind of magic.
Flame Tattoo laughed harshly. “Yeah, keep glaring. That’s about all you can do. And don’t bother thinking about running. I tied each limb before securing you to the saddle. We’re not taking chances. Not with an Aurora Fae.”
Aurora Fae. They suspected what I was and wanted to kill me just because I might be even part Aurora Fae.
His fingers worked at the ropes binding me to the caribou. The moment they loosened, he grabbed me like I weighed nothing and hauled me over his shoulder, the blanket still wrapped tight around me.
“The Night General’s contingent has been spotted!” someone shouted from near the entrance to the hollow.
Movement rippled through the camp, men straightening and conversations dying. The two figures at the slab paused their work.
Another voice rang out from deeper in the hollow, sharp and commanding. “Then make sure everything is ready. Don’t give him any reason to delay the ceremony. We leave after dawn. Is the altar prepared?”
Altar. Ice slid down my spine. Oh, hell naw.
I kicked and twisted as hard as I could, but with my ankles bound, my hands pinned, and the blanket trapping me, all I managed was a pathetic, writhing struggle resembling a worm.
A muffled scream tore from my throat, barely audible through the gag.
I didn’t stop. I thrashed, fought, tried to wrench myself free any way I could.
“Stop it.” Flame Tattoo slammed me onto the ground.
The impact drove the air from my lungs in a painful rush. Before I could recover, his hand cracked across my face, then his boot slammed into my side. Pain exploded through me, and my stomach churned.
I curled up instinctively, gasping, but he was already hauling me back over his shoulder, his grip like iron.
“You don’t have long left anyway,” he muttered. “But we can make it a lot worse before it’s over. You’ll die just before dawn, and until then, as long as your heart’s beating, we can do whatever we want.”
“Keldren.” The commanding voice cut through the air.
I choked for breath around the gag while Keldren turned toward the voice.
“You know the Night General’s rules regarding prisoners,” the speaker said. “Don’t put him in a fouler mood than he already is. Get her secured in the tent, and ignore her if she tries to provoke you.”
Keldren made a sound that was halfway between a scoff and a growl, but he nodded. “Understood.”
He carried me into the tent, and the world pitched. My cheek throbbed where he’d hit me, and warm blood seeped through the gag, slicking my tongue with iron. The pain was dull and spreading, the kind that promised to get worse once adrenaline wore off.
The tent’s interior turned my stomach.
It looked like a mad alchemist’s lab had collided with an occult library and then decided to get creative.
Two rough wooden tables lined the canvas walls, their surfaces crowded with glass vials, stoppered jars, and bowls stained dark.
Leatherbound books sat in unstable towers, their cracked spines marked with symbols I couldn’t read.
Some lay open with pages pinned down by odd weights, bones, crystals, and things that looked disturbingly like dried organs.
The air smelled like copper and rot mixed with something that burned my nostrils and lungs.
Bundles of dried herbs hung from the table edges, brittle and gray. A shelf held jars of preserved… things. Eyes floating in cloudy liquid. Clawed digits. Curved teeth. Bits that did not belong in any sane place and things I couldn't identify and didn't want to.
In the center of the tent stood a thick wooden post sunk into stone and earth.
Iron rings had been bolted into it at different heights.
Chains hung from each one, the links dark with rust or something worse.
The post itself was scarred with deep gouges, like someone had fought it until their nails broke.
Keldren dropped me against it.
My shoulder hit first, then my ribs, and stars flashed behind my eyes. He shoved me upright and yanked down two chains.
“Hold still,” he said, voice low and nasty. “You can’t stop this. And if the Night General isn’t in too foul a mood, maybe he’ll want his own fun with you.”
Rage surged hot in my chest, but all I could do was glare and choke around the gag. I felt truly helpless, and this time, I didn’t have Kai here to take care of me.
Keldren didn’t bother untying the rope or freeing me from the blanket. He simply wrapped the chains around me, cinching them until the metal bit into my sides and pinned my arms to my body. Efficient. Like he’d done this a hundred times and slept fine afterward.
Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth and slid down my neck.
“There.” He crouched until we were eye level, close enough that his breath hit my face. It smelled like stale sweat and something sour. “Not a chance you’ll break free.”
He stared at me, his hardening gaze making my skin crawl.
“I heard them say they aren’t even sure you’re Aurora Fae.
” He pursed his lips. “Wouldn’t that be tragic?
Slit your throat for nothing, and you turn out to be Day Fae or something boring like that.
” His gaze flicked to my hair. “But with hair like yours? I’d bet on Aurora.
” He leaned in a fraction closer. “Pity, though. Wish we had more time. We could finish what we started last time. The Night General prefers his sacrifices intact for his arrival.”
My stomach churned. I jerked my head away as far as the gag would allow, glaring hard enough that my eyes stung.
He could go fuck himself on a splintering fence post. If I got out of this, I was going to make him regret every breath he’d ever taken.
Keldren laughed as he stood. “You’re not getting out of Blood Hollow alive, sweetheart. Don’t make it harder on yourself than it needs to be.”
He turned and strode out through the tent flap. It fell into place behind him, leaving only a narrow slit where the fabric didn’t meet perfectly.
I was alone.
Trapped.
No matter how I twisted, I couldn’t reach a knot. The blanket stole friction, and the chains stole movement. My fingers were numb, but my wrists burned where the rope had already scraped them raw.
Fuck.
I worked my jaw, teeth grinding against the gag. My lips hurt, split and tender, and every bite sent a fresh sting through my face. I didn’t stop. I needed one thing to give... one weakness… one mistake.
A small hole formed in the cloth where my teeth gnashed again and again. It was pathetic, barely a tear, but it was something. Hope came in stupid shapes sometimes.
My hands and feet tingled, half asleep, half frozen. My whole body ached. I twisted my wrists again anyway, pulling until fire licked through my skin. The rope didn’t budge, and the knots held firm.
I paused every few seconds to listen for anyone approaching, breath tight in my chest, then started again. The chains clinked with each movement, a soft, mocking sound that echoed in the tent.
The hole in the gag widened a fraction. My lips cracked and stung, and blood smeared warm against my mouth, but I kept going.
If I could get my mouth free, maybe I could do something. Bite the blanket. Tear fabric. Work the rope with my teeth if I had to.
I’d figure it out.
Hoofbeats thundered outside, sudden and close, followed by shouts that broke through the night. The noise rolled into the tent like a wave, vibrating through my bones.
My blood turned to ice.
Through the thin gap in the tent flap, I caught glimpses of figures rushing toward the entrance of the hollow.
And then my worst nightmare was confirmed.