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Arianette

The forest swallows sound.

It’s just me and dead leaves underfoot, the slap of my bare soles against dirt and moss. The wedding dress drags behind me, heavy with dew, mud, and blood. Underneath, the welts sting, burning with every step. I should take it off. Burn it. Bury it. But I can’t. It’s mine. It’s proof something happened. Proof I mattered–even if just for one night.

The bonfire smoke is long gone now, replaced with the sting of pine and rot and sweat. My knees keep buckling. My thighs are slick. I can still feel all of them. The King taking my body: the hard swell of his cock, the warm feel of his semen. I hear Damon’s voice as he stood behind me, hands angry and rough, whispering all those teases and taunts. I feel Hunter’s eyes. Taste his silence. The bite of the counter under my ribs. The bruise of the rod before that.

“You were made for this.”

I laugh. It comes out like a hiccup, sharp and cracked. It sounds like someone else. Not the girl that married a king. Isound likeher.The girl from before all of this. The girl that survived and escaped and ran. The Barons think I belong to them now. That because he handed me over like a discarded toy I’m theirs to break. They don’t know what they’ve done. They don’t understand what I am.

I was supposed to besafe.

The hem of the dress catches again, snagging on a root, and I stumble forward, catching myself on my hands. I stay there for a second, letting my breath even out, but I can feel it building–rising inside me. I rewrap the bandage on my arm, covering the fresh wound, then scrawl something in the dirt with a stick. A spell. Something to ward myself in the dark forest. A protection for the crying girls still behind the walls.

The cabin is far behind me now, too far to go back. Damon and Hunter probably think I’ll just lie there in the bed like a good little Baroness, waiting for them to come use me again.

I thought about ending it all there, in that little cabin where I lived those perfect moments. Where I felt the snapping teeth of hell. I didn’t need to look in the mirror, I’d done that while Damon forced himself in me. I knew what I’d become. I found a piece of china, sharp and pointed, and sliced it down my arm. Blood spilled, hot and slippery. I walked to the fields.

Periwinkle.

I knew then I had to go home.

Pushing back to my feet, I continue, ignoring how my legs ache and my back burns. The welts criss-crossing my skin throb with every movement. I keep walking, through the branches that claw at my arms and chest. The collar at my throat pulls tighter with every step. I want to rip it off, but I don’t. It’s a reminder of who I am, for now and forever.

Rotting from the inside out.

I laugh again, just a puff of air, but it gets caught in my throat and turns into a sob. I clamp my hand over my mouth and fallagainst a tree, breathing hard. My skin is slick with sweat. I’m dizzy. Hungry. My body is begging me to stop.

But I can’t stop. Not now. Not until Ifixit.

I don’t know where the thought comes from, but once it’s there, it anchors me.

Fix it.

Go back. Start again. Be better.

Tears stream down my cheeks, mixing with the dirt and blood. I wipe my face with the back of my hand and smear it worse. I don’t even look human anymore. A flash of movement draws my eye–between the trees. I freeze.

There.

A shadow. Huge. Masked. Watching.

My breath stutters.

No. No, that’s not real. That’s not him. That’s the forest playing tricks on me.

I bolt. Dress ripping, feet pounding the earth. I don’t care where I’m going, I just need to move. I fall once, scrape my palms. Keep going. I find a ridge and slide down the embankment on my hip, nearly tumbling into the creek at the bottom. My ankle twists hard, but I crawl to the other side and claw my way up the slope like an animal.

Fix it. Fix it. Fix it.

It comes like a mantra. A light burning bright.

If I get back to the Manor... if I get to my uncle, to the place where Istarted... to where Ibegan, maybe I can undo it. Undo the threads that keep the cycle going, that fuel the beasts snatching girls off the streets. Undo the pain and chaos and madness and decay.

And when it’s all undone, when there’s nothing left?

I’ll be free.