Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

Angarth Stronghold loomed before us, and memories flooded back, turning my skin into gooseflesh. My heart raced as dread and familiarity washed over me.

The fortress rose from the gloom, its black spires jutting into the sky like accusing fingers. Murky clouds swirled around the peaks, occasionally illuminated by flashes of otherworldly lightning. The walls seemed to drink in what little light remained, creating an abyss of darkness that threatened to swallow us whole.

My breath stalled in my lungs as I took in the imposing structure. It bore a twisted resemblance to the majestic castles of Scotland, but where those filled me with wonder, Angarth Stronghold inspired only dread. The air thrummed with malevolent energy.

I stumbled slightly, steadying myself against Justice as memories of my previous stay assaulted me. The bedroom Garrick had given me, a gilded cage within these forbidding walls. The illusion of freedom as I wandered the castle's halls, all the while knowing I was trapped. My fingers tightened around Justice's hand, the phantom pain of our separation during that time making my chest constrict.

"Home sweet home, huh?" Damon's sarcastic drawl cut through my reverie. "Gotta say, Dracula's got nothing on your decorator, Garrick. Really nailing that ‘abandon all hope' vibe."

Garrick's eyes narrowed, but he remained silent, leading us toward the yawning maw of the entrance. Each step closer to the fortress sent my pulse racing. The shadow of the stronghold fell over us like we were being swallowed alive by some ancient, malevolent entity.

As we approached the towering gates, their intricate ironwork twisting into nightmarish shapes, I fought to control my breathing. The fortress may not have been a prison in the traditional sense, but the memory of my benign captivity here left a bitter taste in my mouth. Now, as we sought refuge within its walls once more, I wondered if we were walking into safety or an even more elaborate trap.

Maggie's fingers dug into Garrick's arm. "There's something wrong," she insisted tightly. "Where are all the guards?"

The eerie silence where there should have been the clank of armor and the shuffle of feet reminded me of rats scurrying in the darkness, waiting for the perfect moment to attack.

Garrick's eyes narrowed to slits. "My guards would not abandon their post."

"Then I would say something bad happened to your guards." Justice's gaze swept across the castle, his body taut as a bowstring.

My heart leaped into my throat. Without a word, our group plunged into the thick foliage surrounding the stronghold. Branches whipped at my face, leaves rustling in the stillness.

A movement on the castle wall caught my eye. A dark, cloaked figure appeared, radiating an aura of menace. As the hood fell back, revealing a cascade of dark curls, I clamped my hand over my mouth to stifle a gasp.

Maci.

My blood ran cold.

Another figure joined her, this one crowned with long blonde hair that gleamed in the dim light. Lisa. Aurora, her majestic phoenix, perched on her arm, its feathers shimmering with an otherworldly glow.

Seeing them standing there so brazenly sent a tremor through my body. I pressed closer to Justice, seeking his warmth and his strength. The forest around us suddenly felt alive with unseen threats, every rustle and snap of a twig amplified.

Damon whispered through the quiet. "Well, isn't this peachy? Looks like the coven decided to throw a house party. Any chance they brought pie?"

Despite the gravity of the situation, I had to bite back a hysterical laugh. Leave it to Damon to find humor in the face of danger. Yet as I watched Maci and Lisa surveying their surroundings, their postures radiating confidence and power, fear writhed in my gut like a venomous snake.

Lisa's betrayal cut deep, a phantom blade twisting in my gut. The sight of her standing alongside Maci sent waves of nausea rolling through me. How could she cast us aside so easily? The bitterness of her treachery coated my tongue.

Garrick's finger pressed against his lips, his eyes wide with urgency. He waved, beckoning us to follow him away from the stronghold. We slipped through the marshy, tangled landscape, my feet sinking into the muck with each step. The squelch of sodden earth filled the air, punctuated by soft splashes as we navigated through patches of stagnant water.

Damon trudged ahead with Zara's now-unconscious form draped over his shoulder. Her limp arms swayed with each of his steps, a stark reminder of our group's vulnerability.

A cloud of insects swarmed around us, their incessant buzzing a maddening chorus. Sharp pinpricks of pain peppered my skin as they feasted, each bite sending a jolt of panic through me. I slapped the back of my neck and arms, trying to kill the little buggers. My mind raced with images of exotic diseases lurking in their tiny, venomous mouths.

After what felt like an eternity of slogging, Garrick halted before a small, thatched house. Two ancient trees stood on either side, their gnarled branches intertwining overhead like protective arms.

Garrick's hand shot up, his muscles tensing as he approached the structure. His gaze darted about, scanning for any signs of danger. The only sound was our ragged breathing and the distant calls of unfamiliar creatures.

"It's empty," he announced, his shoulders dropping as tension bled from his frame. "This was my little hideaway when I wanted to escape the throne." His hand found Maggie's back, fingers tracing soothing patterns as his voice softened. "Or take my mate somewhere private."

Maggie's face turned three shades of red. "Garrick." She drawled out his name, but a flicker of love glistened in her eyes.

The air around us seemed to lighten, the oppressive dread giving way to a fragile hope. Yet, as I gazed back toward the looming silhouette of Angarth Stronghold, a foreboding gloom sank into my gut. The fortress' dark spires pierced the swirling mists, a constant reminder of the dangers lurking beyond our temporary haven.

My heart raced, torn between relief at finding shelter and the gnawing fear of what might come next. How long could we hide from those who now controlled Garrick's domain? And what dark plans were Maci and Lisa hatching within those impenetrable walls?

Garrick pushed the weathered wooden door open. It creaked on ancient hinges, revealing an interior that defied the humble exterior. I stumbled inside, my breath catching as unexpected grandeur unfolded before me.

The hut's interior stretched far beyond what its outer appearance suggested, a testament to fae magic. Rich tapestries adorned the walls, their intricate designs depicting scenes from Unseelie lore in muted, earthy tones. The air was thick with the scent of aged wood and exotic spices.

A massive fireplace dominated one wall, its mantle carved with twisting vines and mythical creatures. Plush armchairs and a low, ornate table sat before it, inviting weary travelers to rest.

The ceiling arched high above, wooden beams interlacing in complex patterns. From them hung delicate crystal chandeliers, their soft light casting a warm glow throughout the space.

To one side, a grand four-poster bed stood, draped in luxurious fabrics of deep green and gold. Opposite, a fully stocked kitchen area boasted gleaming copper pots and a pantry that promised sustenance. Bookshelves lined another wall, filled with ancient tomes and curiosities from across the fae realms. A writing desk sat nearby, quills and parchment neatly arranged atop its polished surface.

Despite the opulence, nature had not been forgotten. Potted plants dotted the room, their leaves shimmering with an ethereal light. A large window looked out onto a private garden, lush with vegetation unseen in the mortal world.

As we filed in, the contrast between the marshy wilderness we'd trudged through, and this hidden oasis of comfort was staggering. It was a space fit for a king, yet cozy enough to feel like a true hideaway from the burdens of rule.

Damon whistled low, breaking the awed silence. "Well, well. Looks like Tinkerbell here knows how to live it up. Anyone else feeling seriously underdressed for this swanky safe house?" He looked at Garrick as he gently took Zara from his shoulder. "Where can I deposit Sleeping Beauty?"

Garrick pointed to a bedroom with an open door.

Damon walked in, gently placed a sleeping Zara on the bed, and pulled the quilt over her. He brushed her hair from her face, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

"All right, Sabrina, magic time's over. Time to hit the hay," he murmured, his tone teasing and tender. "Can't have you turning me into a frog or something while I'm not looking."

As he softly closed the door, I gave him a warm smile.

He caught my look and shifted, his posture stiffening. "What?" he asked gruffly, but a hint of defensiveness colored his tone.

"Nothing," I replied, still smiling.

Damon rolled his eyes, trying to play it cool. "Look, somebody had to make sure she didn't faceplant on the way to bed. You know how witches are after they've been doing their mojo." He glanced at the closed door with a flicker of concern crossing his face. "Besides, can't have her puking all over the place. That's a mess I don't want to clean up."

With a dismissive wave, he walked away. "I need a drink. Something strong."

Garrick materialized from the shadows, a smirk on his lips. He held a glass filled with a swirling, iridescent black liquid that seemed to absorb the light around it. Tiny pinpricks of starlight danced within its depths, and wisps of shadow curled off its surface like smoke.

"Something strong, you say?" he drawled. "Why not sample a true drink of power?" He raised the glass, the liquid inside shifting hypnotically. "This is Twilight's Venom, a delicacy in the Unseelie realm. Care for a sip, mortal? I warn you, it's not for the faint of heart. One drop, and you might find yourself dancing in our midnight revels for all eternity."

Damon eyed the drink warily, jaw clenching. A flicker of uncertainty crossed his face, but determination replaced it. He squared his shoulders and met Garrick's gaze.

"Yeah, well, last I checked, ‘midnight revel' wasn't on my bucket list," he retorted with dripping sarcasm. "I prefer my drinks without the side of eternal damnation, thanks."

He glanced around and spotted a decanter of what looked like whiskey on a nearby table. With a pointed look at Garrick, he strode over and poured himself a glass. "Now, this is more my speed. No fancy light show, no eternal servitude. Just good old-fashioned alcohol." He took a swig, then added with a smirk, "You should try it sometime, Your Highness. Might help you loosen up that crown."

Garrick's smirk faltered, clearly not used to being dismissed so casually. Damon grinned and raised his glass in a mock toast before turning away, effectively ending the conversation on his terms.

"Damon," I warned. "You don't know how powerful that elixir is."

He rolled his eyes as he drank it. "This tastes like apple cider. No sweat."

Ten minutes later, he was passed out in a chair.

I folded my arms and glared at Garrick. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

He shrugged. "Sometimes, your brother can be exhausting."

Justice looked outside. "Enough of that. How far is the Forgotten Hollows?"

"Not far," Garrick responded. "But since my castle is overrun, they will be able to see us when we trek across the fields."

"The fields?" My throat tightened, unease seeping into my bones.

Garrick's expression darkened. "The Whispering Wastes. A vast expanse of open land between us and the Forgotten Hollows. We'll be exposed, vulnerable to the watchful eyes of Maci and her demon horde."

His words wrapped around my heart, heavy with foreboding. I glanced at Damon, still passed out from the elixir, then back to Justice, whose stoic features couldn't quite mask his concern. Our mission hung over us like a storm cloud, and the crazy journey ahead wasn't making it any easier.

"So we have no choice," I stated. "We have to cross the Whispering Wastes to reach the Forgotten Hollows while avoiding Maci and her demons."

Garrick nodded grimly. "It's the only way."

I drew a deep breath, steeling myself for what was to come. "Then we'd better?—"

A bone-chilling screech that seemed to shake the foundations of the building cut my words short. Justice rushed back to the window. His pale face lost what little color it had at whatever he saw.

"Sawyer," he uttered, his calm cracking. "You need to see this."

With my heart pounding, I joined him at the window. What I saw made my blood run cold. The sky had darkened to an unnatural twilight, and a massive winged shape was rapidly approaching on the horizon. Even from this distance, I made out gleaming scales as black as midnight and eyes glowing with an unholy fire.

"Maci," Garrick hissed. "She's found us."

As the shadow dragon drew nearer, a chilling realization struck me. We were out of time. The Whispering Wastes suddenly seemed like a welcome alternative to the terror bearing down upon us. With Damon incapacitated and Zara passed out from exhaustion, our safe haven had been compromised.

My gaze met Justice's in a moment of shared understanding and fear. His hand found mine, cool and strong, grounding me in the chaos. I squeezed it, drawing strength from his touch.

"We need to do something," I insisted, my voice steadier than I felt. "Now."

Justice nodded, his jaw set with determination. "Together," he agreed softly.

Maci's roar shook the air around us. We had to draw her and the demons away from the hut. Why did Damon choose this time to indulge in an Unseelie elixir?

I wouldn't lose him or Zara like I did Brody.