Chapter 2 - Escape Routes

Her eyes flashed open and she sat up fast. The ache in her tummy proved it was really his words.

Her heart began to beat so heavily she gripped her chest.

“That's…. That's him. He's coming! Oh, moon, save me.” She whispered.

Her lips quivered while she looked around and shut her eyes, cold to the bones.

And then, the words echoed in her ears again.

"One must feed. And never beg."

She froze and took her time to understand those words….

And her eyes slitted, anger replacing the fear that was once deep in her chest.

"Fuck you!" She snarled to herself.

She looked at the clock. Two o'clock.

She got out of bed and dressed quickly. gown, a boot then her mother’s old coat. A bag waited: bread, meat, fruit, water, a small knife.

Her hands trembled, but not her strong will.

Aeryl tucked the letter her mother had given her into her coat's pocket.

She opened the window and then carefully sneaked out. The yard was very quiet.

Suddenly, a soft mewl sounded. Aeryl turned to see her small dog jumping toward her legs.

"Myrrh!" she whispered.

He pawed at her, whining. She pushed him back, tears burning her eyes. "Please, go back. If they hear you.... Sshh. Go back."

Her bedroom's light suddenly flicked on behind her.

She froze. Oh, no time.

She snatched Myrrh up and ran for the fence. Myrrh mewled again as if trying to warn her.

"Sshh...."

Aeryl clutched Myrrh, scrambled over the fence and fell on the wet grass.

The donkey she had tied down in preparation grazed.

Shakily, she began to loosen the noose she'd used to hold the animal in place.

A crash sounded from inside. A jug. A chair.

Her father's roar split the night.

"Aeryl!"

The donkey startled, ears flicking, but she seized its rope and pulled it close.

Her father's voice thundered again. Closer.

No time. She threw herself onto the donkey's bare back, skirts tangling, and kicked hard.

"Go-go!"

The beast leapt forward, stones clattering. It jumped into the mud of the forest trail.

Branches smacked at her face.

Her heart pounded louder than the hoofbeats. Myrrh whimpered against her chest, but she held him tight, the reins clutched in her other hand.

She shivered with fear.

The donkey splashed through a creek, breath wheezing. The woods thickened. The moon vanished behind a cloud.

Aeryl bent low, whispering frantic prayers into the dark.

She heard hoofbeats behind her. So many riders.

Her heart froze.

They were coming to take her back to the village.

No....

The road split in two.

To the left, a narrow track linked into black overgrowths. To the right, a wide road scattered with wagon ruts shined silver under the moon.

She bit her lip hard. Myrrh whined softly and the donkey stomped a foot and snorted.

She had to choose right or suffer for it.

"Rightwards!" She whisper-yelled, pulling the reins.

The beast jumped forward and behind her came shouts. Torches blurred at the edge of the thicket.

"FIND HER! NOW!" Lord Seth Numark Frankfurt roared. "Check for hoofsteps and trails! Catch her scent."

It was her father.

Men scattered, torches swinging wildly, but the donkey’s hoofprints vanished where stone replaced sand. Her father stood raging, fists clenched.

"She can't be far-she CAN'T!"

****

****

The wide road stretched endlessly ahead, leading straight into deepening darkness and hovering trees.

The donkey’s body jolted beneath her, uneven and Aeryl pressed her palm to its neck, softly urging it on.

The forest thickened, branches looking like claws, and shadows looming.

Then, she heard hoofbeats again.

Not behind her this time but ahead.

It sounded faint at first. Then it became clearer. Calculated and steady. Like an echoing drumbeat. Her breathing stopped.

Someone was coming and it was more than one person. Panic took her and she yanked the reins hard, directing the donkey off the road.

Branches whipped her arms as they ran into the thicket. The donkey stumbled, hooves slipping at the sudden change. There was no path now. Only thorns, weeds and darkness. She led them deeper, away from the sound, away from whoever was coming or searching.

The strange hoofbeats came closer, growing louder and louder. Torchlight flickered between the trees.

Aeryl froze, pressing her hand to her mouth to silence her breath.

Through the branches, she saw royal riders in gleaming armor, flanking a black carriage designed with silver sigils.

The air shifted. The carriage slowed with the horses stomping, uneasily.

Riders stopped as if bound by a single command. Then, the carriage door opened.

And he stepped out, tall and large. Cloaked in black darker than the night itself. His presence swallowed the clearing whole.

His gaze swept over his men, then lifted sharply and dangerously toward the forest…. Toward her direction.

And she knew who it was. She smelled him. Pine and hot smoke and wild roses…. And something dangerous and strong underneath it.

Her nemesis. The lycan prince.

Her hands shook as the luring scent of him settled into her chest.

Aeryl’s head went heavy with the shock of the moment. But she would never let wild emotions pin her still. And with quick blinks and words of encouragement in her head and the realization that she'd been seen, Aeryl turned the donkey around and bolted into the darkness, shock burning her.

****

****

He inhaled slowly, and froze.

The scent hit him sharply. Very rich and impossibly sweet that he shut his eyes. His blood boiled with recognition and he stiffened.

Mate.

His predatory eyes shined in the dark. He raised one hand, voice cold:

"Freeze."

Every rider obeyed. Not even a hoof moved, not a breath dared sound. The forest itself seemed to hold its breath.

He listened, head tilted, until he caught the sound of frantic hoofbeats, someone riding deeper into the trees. Like a mackerel trying to escape his grasp.

He smiled, coldly.

"Proceed."

He mounted a stallion in one smooth motion, his glossy, black hair catching the moon's light, and then he rode into the shadows of the thickets by himself, driven by the scent that had just undone his years of restraint.

****

****

Back at the house, candlelight danced.

Aeryl’s mother stood at the window, gripping the sill until her knuckles whitened. Her chest rose and fell in ragged gasps, her husband’s distant shouts echoing faintly.

"She's gone..." The words broke from her throat. "My daughter..."

Lilah slipped beside her, wrapping her arms tight around her.

"Don't say that, Mama," she begged, eyes wet. "She's strong. She's smart. She'll come back or stay safe somewhere."

Her mother’s hands shook over Lilah’s, clinging to the hopeful words. But the thought of Aeryl alone in the woods, where shadows hunted and men were cruel, scattered her resolve.

She sobbed out.

Lilah buried her face in her mother’s gown, trying to be strong but failing.

Soon, they clung to each other, weeping, holding tight to what remained of their breaking hearts.

****

****

The corridor smelled of sweat, perfume, and candle smoke.

Santos laid back in a red, throne-like bowl bed, shirt and fly open. His pale chest was smeared with lipstick and nail crescents. Two women clung to him, moaning and desperate.

One more pale woman entered the room, freshly bathed and ready to exhibit her lustfulness.

She confidently cat-walked straight to him and straddled his cock, throat arched as his fangs scratched lightly at the hollow of her neck.