Chapter 15

Chapter Fifteen

C laws pull at my clothes and tangle in my hair as I run through the unending forest. The trees all look sinister here, their gnarled branches reaching out as if to catch me.

I haven’t looked at whatever creatures are chasing me, too afraid to match a face with the terrifying noises behind me. Every time I think I might have gotten away, I feel them clawing at my back, determined to get me.

Get to running water, get to the light!

It is no good though, I am not fast enough. A root rises up from the ground ahead of me, and I don’t have time to avoid it. Ankle caught, I let out a strangled cry as I tumble forward. Rolling over, I finally face my pursuers.

Their bodies are combinations of dark limbs, talons, wings, and teeth, but when I look at their faces, there is a shadowy darkness hiding their identities. Terror rises within me as they step forward, ready to devour me.

“Iris!” The voice feels like a lifeline, and I clutch onto it, desperately following…

My eyes fly open as a pair of hands land on my shoulders, and I stare up into the green eyes of a fae prince. His hair is tousled, and sleep lines his face, as though he just woke up. He looks a little frantic, his chest rising and falling like he was just out for a run.

“Alaric.” His name is out of my mouth before I can even process what is happening. Remembering the fearsome creatures, I gasp and thrash in his grip, desperate to get away and warn him.

His hands only tighten on my shoulders, his expression softening. “It was a nightmare, Iris. You are safe.”

The door to the room slams open, startling both me and Alaric. The latter is across the room and has a dagger pressed against the throat of the intruder, who happens to be Blaise.

He must have been distracted if he didn’t hear Blaise approaching with his fae hearing—not to mention he is topless and wearing leggings. Where did he get the dagger from?

“We have to go. We are in danger,” Blaise snaps, not at all concerned about the fact he almost had his throat slit by his friend. He pushes into the room and starts throwing clothes at the prince.

Alaric catches them all with grace, getting changed without even pausing. “What is happening? Are we under attack?”

Blaise is still moving around the room like a hurricane, shoving everything into their packs, his face set in a hard expression. “Someone set fire to the far side of the inn. They are putting it out now, so we should be safe from the flames, but this was no accident.”

Now that he mentions it, I can smell the scent of smoke clinging to his clothes. While the two of them talk, I attempt to hurry out of bed, but my legs are tangled in the sheets, and I stumble forward, only just catching myself in time before landing on my face. Someone set fire to the inn. It could not possibly be because of us, could it? I groan internally. Of course it is. It would be too much of a coincidence otherwise, especially because we know the Unseelie are actively after us. Are they so determined to get me that they would set fire to the inn, potentially killing innocents?

I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised after everything I have been told about them, but the callousness of it shakes me. I am in very real danger here.

Alaric curses and looks at me. “Stay here, I’ll come back for you. Don’t move. I will use my magic to contain the fire so it won’t reach this side of the building. You’ll be safe, I promise.” Authority rings in his voice, leaving no room for argument. He is already turning away and addressing his companion, assured that I am going to follow his order. “Blaise, get the horses ready.”

His companion nods, already moving into the hallway. With one last look at me, Alaric slips from the room, and I am left alone.

Fear makes my hands sweat, but I tell myself that some of that is leftover terror from my nightmare. He was so close to me before Blaise entered the room, looking concerned for me, his hands making my skin tingle where he touched me. Now he is gone, and I feel unsure about everything, my mind still clinging to sleep.

I search through the pile of clothes left for me and pull on a floral dress. It is too big for me, but I take a borrowed belt and tie it around my waist, pulling it in so I look less like a child playing dress up in her mother’s clothes. There is a warm-looking pair of leggings that I pull on as well, knowing we are going to be riding for some time.

While I get dressed, my mind continues to play over my interaction with Alaric. He looked reluctant to leave me just now, but that is probably because he doesn’t want me to be on my own due to what I mean to his kingdom. I need to get this stupid girlie notion from my mind that he has any romantic intentions towards me.

Looking out the window, I see Alaric talking to some of the humans, assisting with carrying buckets of water from the well to help put out the rest of the fire. His hood is up, hiding his ears, yet as he flits around, it is clear from his speed and strength that he is more than human. The humans either don’t notice or don’t care.

I don’t know how long I wait, but it feels like an eternity. Alternating between watching out the window and pacing the room, I release a huff of breath as I lean against the window frame. A bead of sweat rolls down my forehead, and I realise just how hot it is getting. Now that I think about it, there is a strange noise that is growing too. At first it just blended into the background, but now it’s more like a dull roar.

The fire, it must have spread. Why is no one over on this side of the inn to put it out? Alaric was going to contain the fire, but something must have happened, as they don’t seem to know. None of this seems right. How have they not realised that the other side of the inn is burning? Can they not hear the fire?

Fear turns my stomach as I realise I am going to have to get out of this myself. If I wait around to be rescued, I may well be dead by the time they get to me. Hurrying over to the door, I go to swing it open, only to cry out as the door handle burns my palm. Heat hits me like a physical blow, and I back away quickly, slamming the door shut with my right shoulder, my left still screaming with pain from my fall.

Backing away from the door, I look down at the angry red burn on my palm. Pain lances through me, but it is overshadowed by the despair that threatens to consume me. I gape at my one hope of escape, watching as it burns and turns my chances of survival into ashes.

Thick black smoke begins to fill the room, causing great, racking coughs to shake my body, my lungs screaming at the invasion.

No, I refuse to just give up, lie down, and die. I am stronger than that. A deep, primal part of myself roars with approval and urges me to get moving. There is no time to waste, though, if I want to survive. Grabbing the bedding, I throw the jug of water over it, trying to make it as wet as possible, and stuff it under the door to block any entrance for the smoke that is making its way up to me. It won’t keep it at bay for long, but it should afford me a little more time.

Now all I have to figure out is how to get out of here. Glancing around, I run over to the window, a plan forming in my mind. I can shout for help, let fresh air in to clear my lungs, and hopefully climb from it to safety. Chest heaving, I look for a latch or way to open the window, uselessly pressing against the glass in futile attempts of making it budge. Nothing. How is it possible that the only window in the room does not open?

A frustrated, desperate cry leaves my lips. I am panicking now, my body trembling with adrenaline. My instincts are telling me to stop and calm down so I do not use up too much oxygen with my frantic breathing. Panic is only going to cloud my mind and make this harder. Closing my eyes for a second, I reach for that calm, ancient part of me and channel it, clearing my thoughts. Opening my eyes once more, I decide to break the glass.

Running over to the bed, I grab a blanket and wrap it around my fist before returning to the window. Summoning all my strength, I smash my hand into the glass repeatedly, even as my knuckles scream in protest. The glass remains unbroken. Desperate gasps escape me as I keep punching, throwing all of my weight into it as tears roll down my cheeks.

A high-pitched scream comes from above me, causing me to flinch. Am I about to be crushed by the beams holding up the roof? A thatched roof will burn quickly, and I don’t know how good the structural integrity of the building is. However, as I look up, I realise the noise I hear is scrabbling, as though something is trying to dig its way through the roof. The question is, are they friend or foe? I have no idea, but I need to get out of here, and the window is still my best option. I scan the room for a heavy object, and my eyes settle on a candlestick holder, the heavy metal base looking perfect.

The room is becoming more and more smoky, and my breaths are getting shallow and laboured. Fighting through a cough, I raise my hand and throw the candlestick holder at the glass… only for it to bounce off and land on the floor with a thud.

“Why won’t you break?” I scream at the window in frustration. A coughing fit takes over me, and I bend over as I try to catch my breath. The smoke stings my eyes, and my head feels stuffy from inhaling so much smoke.

“Iris!” a deep male voice calls urgently.

Jerking towards the voice, I realise there is now a hole in the roof where the scrabbling sound came from. A hand is extended through that hole. Without thinking about who it is, I stumble over and reach up to the pale hand. At this point, any help is essential.

Long, slender fingers wrap around my arm and pull me up and onto the roof as easily as if lifting a bag of feathers. Hunching over, I press my hands against the thatching and take long, deep breaths of the cool night air.

“We cannot stay here,” a familiar voice says, his body close to mine but not touching. “In case you didn’t notice, the building is on fire.”

I slowly begin to register the presence of the male. There are only a handful of males whose voices I would recognise, and he is neither Alaric nor Blaise. I turn rapidly to confirm my suspicions, making myself dizzy, and have to plant my hands against the roof again to make sure I don’t topple off.

Ciaran, the Unseelie fae and next in line for the throne.

“Steady,” he murmurs, raising a pale hand to stabilise me.

“You!” I accuse. “Did you do this?” I gesture to the burning building, but he doesn’t seem to be paying attention. Shifting forward, he wraps his arms around me without warning and pulls me against his chest. I cry out in fear, but all I can do is hold on as he stands and leaps from the roof.

As soon as we are on the ground, I fight my way out of his arms, struggling like my life depends on it. I buck and kick, relishing his curses as I make contact. Finally breaking free, I stumble away, desperate to put some distance between us.

“Stay away from me.” Teeth clenched and hands balled into fists at my sides, I move backward, keeping my eyes on him like the predator he is.

“I cannot do that, Iris.” He takes a step closer, the look in his eyes dark and possessive. “We need you, and I will do anything to get you.” He is not apologetic in the slightest, and although I should be horrified, there is a part of me that swoons a little at his words. He did just rescue me from the fire.

What is wrong with me? He is evil and trying to abduct me, I should not feel anything towards him other than disgust and horror. Why then do I still feel this pull towards him? The connection between the two of us is still present, and I don’t understand it. The spell, that must be it. I am the doe that they need to lift their curse, and it must be linking us together somehow. That is the only rational explanation.

Something moves in my peripheral vision, and I glance over. I wish I hadn’t. Creatures that look to be made of gnarled tree branches and shadows run across the clearing. Tall, long-limbed creatures like the one I saw with Ciaran that day are stalking the grounds, and terrifying dog-like fae chase down humans. A horrified realisation hits me. They managed to break through the spell. I can see they are already moving back to the forest, though, many of them looking like they are being dragged by an invisible force—the curse.

“You’re evil,” I say as I turn back to the fae in question. Frustration and confusion make my voice tight and harsh. “I have heard all about the Unseelie from Alaric.”

Ciaran raises a perfect silver brow before running his tongue over his sharp teeth, reminding me exactly who and what he is. “Oh, the prince has been sharing, has he? How nice of him.” The words are purred and seductive, but they are oh so dangerous, like the carnivorous plants that draw in their prey with their beauty and then devour them as soon as they are trapped.

Something shifts around my ankles, and to my horror, I find brambles have sprouted from the ground and wrapped around my legs. I try to pull away, but I only succeed in cutting myself on the thorns. Heart pounding like a drum, I continue to struggle despite the pain as Ciaran steps closer.

Step by step, he moves in until there is barely a breath between us. That strange sensation of butterflies in my stomach returns, but it is not because I am swooning. No, they feel like they are demanding to be released to break through the magic holding me in place and acting as a beacon at the same time, calling to anyone who will listen. Although the call is not out loud, somehow I know I have been heard.

“I bet he has not told you about their magic and just how they stay so young and beautiful?” Ciaran continues, his dark eyes boring into mine. I feel lost staring at him, entranced. Up close, he is even more handsome. It shouldn’t be possible for someone so cruel to be so beautiful.

“Iris!”

Alaric is coming for me. Hope breaks me from whatever spell Ciaran seems to cast over me, and my whole body tingles with energy. Alaric is coming. I take in the fleeing Unseelie creatures and the twisted look on the lord’s face.

“Shit,” he curses, and for a moment, a dark look crosses his features. It suddenly occurs to me that he could still snatch me and drag me into the forest. Alaric would follow, of that I am sure, but he would be massively outnumbered as soon as we entered Unseelie territory where they are strongest.

Would Nyx save me? I know he said he was staying away, but he found me here before. Would he truly leave me to die or be stolen by the Unseelie? Something in me says that he wouldn’t, that he would be there. I have no evidence to back this up, so I have no idea where the thought comes from.

Cursing again, Ciaran turns and surveys the clearing, weighing his chances. Expression hardening, he turns back to me and smiles. It is not a nice smile, showing off his sharp teeth.

“Until we meet again, my queen.” He grabs my hand and kisses the back of it before I even realise what is happening. “Just remember, they are not as perfect as they seem. Do not trust them.”

Frowning, I yank my hand away from him and stumble back a few steps in disgust. Ciaran is not paying attention to that, though, his eyes locked on my feet, confusion flashing in his eyes.

“Interesting,” he says slowly with a raised brow, stretching out the word. Flashing me that smile once more, he disappears in a flash.

It is only when Alaric races around the corner towards me that I realise the brambles that were around my ankles have withered away to nothing but black stalks.