7. Saoirse

Saoirse

I t was a long while before I made the first cut.

To admit to myself that I wasn't better, that I wasn't as healed as I thought, was devastating. The emotions in my chest built, reaching a crescendo that drowned out even the loudest of my thoughts, until I was a balloon that was about to explode. Except, it never would, not if I didn't pop it.

So, I did.

I bit my lip as the razor sliced through, creating a perfectly straight line horizontal to my ankle, nestled comfortably in between the countless others I had already made myself. It stung, and I marveled at the angry red line, watching with reverence as the blood rose to the surface.

Spurred on by the display, I cut again. And again. And again, until I had five new lines ready and willing to join the mass of graves that littered my ankle. Only then did I exhale, and with it the darkness inside of me flowed out, leaving me an emotionally spent mess.

But for the first time tonight, I felt calm. Still. Content.

The quiet sounds of the surrounding forest comforted me, soothing the aches and pains that I could not reach on my own. They would never heal the vast cavern that lived inside me, nor the scars on my back, but at least in this moment, in this time and place, they helped.

I gathered myself, bunching up my dress as I pushed to my feet, ready to move on. I'd just dusted myself off when I heard the snap of a twig, much too close for my comfort. I'd been so blinded by my own sorrows that I hadn't heard them approach, and now they would be too near for me to get away. Who was it? Xan? My father?

I scanned the tree line frantically, already backing up in the direction that would take me back toward the bakery, back toward the safety of the town. A flare bloomed through the softening light, and my gaze landed on a dark figure, tall and lanky in the dim lightning, a wicked sneer twisting his features.

Jephyr.

"Hello, Saoirse." He grinned at me as he moved forward, teeth stained yellow and cracked from one too many blows to the face. Being a part of the Sol guard was not an easy feat, and anyone who had made it through the brutal training had the scars to prove it. Jephyr just hadn't gotten lucky enough for the scars not to be on his face.

I said nothing, staring him down as best I could with a bravery I didn't possess. "Leave me alone, Jephyr. Go back to the party. Aren't you supposed to be on duty?"

He laughed, a cold, mirthless sound. "They won't miss me. If anyone asks, I can just tell them I was protecting a royal princess."

I scoffed, pulling my attitude toward me like a blanket, wrapping it around me and holding it as close as possible. "Out of all the citizens in the entire kingdom, my protection would be the least of anyone's concerns."

"Oh, I'm very well aware of that." He moved in closer, and for each step he took, I mirrored one backward. If he lunged for me, I would have no protection, no recourse against a person who had ten times the power I would never have. "You don't have to be afraid of me, Saoirse. I'm not going to do anything to you that you don't want me to do."

"I want absolutely nothing to do with you, so please leave ." The last thing I wanted to do was ask him nicely, but I didn't want to anger him, not in a secluded spot with no protection.

He made no movement, just watched me with pitch black eyes, waiting for me to make my next move. Jephyr had the upper hand here, and he knew it.

"It wounds me that you feel that way," he mocked, hands held above his chest as if I had shot an arrow through his heart. "And I'd thought we'd grown so close after all these years."

My eyes darted to the side, searching for an escape route among the trees, but Jephyr was already too close. Memories of the last time he'd had me cornered flooded back—a dark corner of the castle he'd sequestered me in while no one was looking. How he had tried to overpower me, his hands rough and demanding, while he begged me to have sex with him but didn't wait for an answer. I had barely managed to escape then, and the terror of that night gripped me now. The throbs of pain in my cheek and ankle were barely a thought in my mind amidst the tornado inside.

I could not let him get that close to me again.

I took a step back, but he was quicker. He grabbed my arm, yanking me toward him. "Let go of me!" I shouted as loud as I could, hoping against hope that my voice would carry.

"Stop struggling," he hissed, his breath hot and reeking of ale. "No one cares about you. You think they're going to come running, and what? Save the little princess?" He threw his head back as he laughed, his stringy hair flopping to one side. "No one cares about you, Saoirse. You're mine to do with as I please."

"Please, Jephyr, don't do this," I pleaded, my voice breaking. Even if I yanked as hard as I could, his strength gripped me, unforgiving.

He pushed me face-first into the tree, his body pinning mine as he roughly pressed himself flush against me. Rough bark scratched against my already tattered cheek. His arms disappeared, his heavy body pinning me in place. For a moment, I thought he'd changed his mind. That he'd realized what a terrible mistake he was making, and he was going to let me go.

But then his hands gripped the back of my dress, roughly pulling the fabric up until it bunched around my hips. Terror ripped from my throat, which he rewarded by knocking his head into mine, sending my face forward to the tree with a sickening crunch. I spluttered as blood splashed down my face, my broken nose throbbing in tandem with the pulse of my terror.

"Scream like that again and I will ensure it's your last," he growled. He was so close to my ear that I felt his breath on my skin, and a strong wave of nausea roiled over my body. "No one is coming to save you, Saoirse. The sooner you accept that, the sooner it'll be over."

I fought him still, but it only seemed to amuse him as he easily restrained my body. He laughed again, a venomous sound, but it was then that I saw my opportunity. I'd use his own game against him.

I whimpered softly, hanging my head forward as I waited for him to take the bait. Sensing my resignation, he didn't hesitate, dipping his head to my neck, his breath hot on my skin. "Good girl."

I didn't pause. To stop and think could be the difference between me getting out of here intact. My skull collided with his nose with a nauseating crunch, a blossom of pain erupting in the back of my head. The pain was worth it, his pressure against my body immediately slackening as he brought his hands up to his face, and a wetness that I didn't want to think about trickled down my back.

Adrenaline surged through me as I pushed with my entire body weight, and as he stumbled back, giving me the space I needed. I searched frantically as I moved off in one direction, trying to get my bearings enough to make sure I was heading the right way. The last thing I would need is to leave a bloody trail, taking me deeper into the woods, even further from civilization. Shuffling behind me, followed by a muffled curse, told me Jephyr was recovering. I needed to move fast.

There. A narrow path, almost entirely hidden by the overgrown forest, signaling the route back to town. I sprinted toward it, my heart pounding in my chest.

I didn't get far. Jephyr recovered quickly, his footsteps thundering behind me. His heavy hand grabbed me by the arm and yanked me back, throwing me to the ground. Shock shot through my body as I hit the dirt, struggling to get up, but he was on me in an instant. I screamed when the blade bit into my thigh, white-hot agony radiating out from me in all directions.

"You didn't listen," he snarled, pinning me down. Desperation and terror surged through me as his hands gripped me, my leg ablaze with torment.

This was now a fight for my life. Was I really going to die like this?

Darkness closed in, and at first, I thought I must be dying. The very light seemed to run, to shy away from the inky blackness creeping in, but I wasn't scared. What could be scarier than what I'd already seen? My vision went hazy; from fear or blood loss, I could never say.

"Back away now," a low, dangerous voice commanded. I craned my neck as much as I could manage to see a familiar figure emerging from the shadows, prowling like a panther about to catch his dinner. Jephyr stilled above me.

"You again?" he snarled.

"Last chance," Vane said, and when he took another step forward, the hazy rays of sun glinting off his face, I saw him clearly. His shirt was bunched to the elbows, revealing black swirling mist writhing across his skin. No, not mist.

Shadows.