Page 11 of Consumed (Shot in the Dark)

An elderly woman’s voice broke the silence. “Take each other’s hand and hold steady—very good.”

Every eye was fixed on Eoin and his bride-to-be, who stood at the front of the tavern. The elderly woman—I had never seen a human so advanced in age—began wrapping a braided cord around their hands. It knotted around their knuckles, their wrists, their forearms nearly to the elbow .

“May you forever be one,” the woman said, her frail voice carrying to every corner of the tavern. “In love, in loyalty, for all time to come.”

My throat tightened around the threat of a shriek.

A handfasting ceremony .

The image and its name wavered on the edge of a faraway memory, much like everything else that had felt familiar since leaving the forest. The weight of the ceremony sat upon my heart like a jagged stone.

I wanted to push past the villagers and rip the cord away, shred it into pieces to free Eoin from being bound to this woman.

A small noise did escape me, but another round of cheers masked it as the cord was fully fastened.

Brianna leaned up to kiss him eagerly, and I begged Eoin to pull away, to realize that this was all wrong. But his lips met hers, and he pulled her closer like he was starving for her taste.

How can he bear to kiss such a disgusting creature, I thought. She’s tricked him. He doesn’t want this—any of this.

The gentle pluck of music was replaced with a riotous duo of fiddles.

Dancing spread through the room like it was contagious, and Eoin led them all.

His lean, toned frame cut a striking figure even in a crowd.

Brianna clutched at him, shrieking with laughter as they stepped in time.

His movements were untethered, light-footed as a stag.

I couldn’t help but compare the way he’d danced with me those months ago in the pond—slow and restrained, like he was walking in a dream.

As more of the villagers circled into the dance, I stood, snatching up a forgotten goblet on the table beside me. I clutched the polished wood tighter with every stab of pain that came from my careful footsteps. It was getting worse. How much time did I have left?

I stole a glance out the window, where the slope of the forest lay in wait beyond the thatched rooftops. My heart skipped a beat when I saw pinpricks of light in the branches. A perfect, unnatural line along the oaks.

My sisters, watching and waiting for me.

Stomach twisting, I stared back stoically. They could not be pleased by this. But they would never understand. Eoin was unlike the other mortals here—and needed me to keep him from harm.

Still, they watched.

I nearly barreled right into another dancing couple as I uneasily tore my gaze away from the window. I dodged around a barrel of flour, keeping to the walls.

Pieces of conversation caught my ear, and I allowed myself to watch from my new position out of the way.

Eoin and his bride-to-be spoke with their guests between dances about how her dowry would be of great help through the winter months and beyond.

Their gratitude for the wedding gifts was already set upon their doorstep .

The winter—that must be why he chose to wed now.

He was marrying this girl out of desperation, out of the sheer need to survive the winter thanks to the provisions the wedding would bring.

Shadows curled in my chest at the thought of what I could have provided—how much more I should have offered Eoin before this wraith swept in and convinced him she was worthy of his affection.

A guest with ale-reddened cheeks and plaited red hair embraced them both, asking if they hoped for a son or daughter. A snarl built in my throat as Brianna smiled widely and exchanged a look with Eoin.

“My family has been blessed with many sets of twins,” she answered in that grating, lyrical voice. “Perhaps we will have both.”

The rest of the room didn’t understand, but that smile on Eoin’s face was strained, full of regret and fear at the thought of such a commitment.

Another stab of pain shot through me—this time, a cold sweat broke out on my brow. It was like the edge of a blade had been dragged up the backs of my legs, burying the hilt in my lower back. I gasped hard enough to turn heads.

Another glance at the window. The sun had lowered, and my sisters were no longer on the treeline. Somehow, that only felt worse. I looked down at my hands, where the illusion of life still thrummed weakly.

I’m running out of time.

Suddenly, the air felt too thick and stale with the smell of too many things at once—sweat and ale, herbed bread and smoky embers. Air. I needed fresh air. In the sea of faces, I could no longer spot Eoin’s golden-brown hair.

I found a side door and made a quick exit, gasping in the clean, biting air outside. There was a small courtyard behind the tavern, bearing a cobblestone well, several barrels of food and mead, and a wall of firewood stacked by the door. And ahead—

Home.

The border of this part of the village touched the very edge of a meadow that led into massive trees.

Their ancient trunks loomed just metres away, with inky blackness between each like strips of midnight.

It was a darkness that wanted to eat—and I knew with every fiber of my being I needed to be consumed by it, for it was me.

Time to return , the snow-laced wind whispered, brushing back the hood of my cloak, pulling me forward.

“I’m trying ,” I huffed under my breath.

I would come back for Eoin. I would save him and remind him of what he truly desired.

Wine sloshed from my goblet as I staggered toward the trees. My knees gave out, forcing me to slam against the cobblestone well in the center of the courtyard.

“You should know better than to hide, Aisling.”

Footsteps on autumn leaves. Dirt under my fingernails. Gasping for air —

I pulled myself up, making it past the fence that separated the tavern from the dirt path at the back.

“Please don’t do this.”

Something hard and heavy on my throat. “You haven’t left me a choice.”

The memory was a wildfire ripping through the careful walls of my sanity. I cried out, waves of terror and rage that didn’t belong to me crashing through my chest.

I was the forest, and the forest was me.

But I’d never had a choice.

“Please don’t do this.” My own voice echoed in my mind.

I was nothing more than a prisoner . A monster chained in the very place I had—

The door to the tavern opened, and someone stepped out. Cornflower blue caught the corner of my eye before I turned and saw Brianna, a bucket under her arm. She hooked it onto the pulley at the wall, her freckled cheeks still flushed, and a little melody hummed under her breath.

When she caught me staring, her smile became a shriek.

“Oh, Brigid above, you frightened me,” she exclaimed, clasping a hand to her mouth.

I supposed I must have been a sight—pale, trembling, with my hair bedraggled.

After a moment to compose herself, Brianna masked her fright with a smile.

“Have you come in for a bite of food yet? We’ve plenty to go around, and then some. ”

“Yes,” I said.

The single rasped word sat between us like a canyon, with only the faint murmur of the celebration carrying on behind the tavern walls breaking our silence. I could see the dancing had become more vigorous since I left, as whiskey began to flow alongside the ale.

Brianna frowned faintly, something maternal and deeply misplaced crossing her features. I didn’t need her charity. She was like a child approaching a god.

She crossed around the well to reach me, scanning me up and down.

“You look quite pale,” she said. “You must be freezing. Won’t you join us inside again, friend?”

She extended a hand to touch my arm, and I fought the urge to bite it off finger by finger down to the bone.

You took him from me , I wanted to hiss at her. If not for you, I wouldn’t be alone.

But I forced a more pleasant, apologetic tone and leaned away from her.

“I must be off. I…I am unwell.” Breathing heavily, I peeked at the goblet still clutched in my hand.

I raised it to her and softened my gaze.

“But I cannot forgo the opportunity to offer a toast to such a kind bride. Please—have the rest. To your good health.”

She pressed a hand to her breast and shook her head. “Nonsense. Enjoy your drink and rest well, my friend.”

Her refusal sent anger prickling up my spine. Perhaps she suspected something—but no, that dull face was emptier than a tree hollow. This creature before me was no wraith. She was a simple, mortal girl who had stolen the life that should have been mine—unworthy for the likes of Eoin.

I pressed the goblet into her hands, kissing her knuckles with all the tenderness of a lover. “Please,” I said softly, “it is my gift.”

I could scarcely recall the journey back to my home. My next moment of awareness came when I set foot in the boundaries of the forest, and my surroundings consumed me like the loving embrace of a relieved mother.

The illusion faded, and though the pain ebbed, the exhaustion of the experience did not. I sank onto the earth and curled onto my side, trembling. The frozen earth was cool and comforting against my cheek.

My sisters gathered around me, equally cool voices and hands welcoming my return to where I belonged. As I lay there, I couldn’t shake the familiarity. And though it was still blurry and distant, a memory struck me with a heated blow.

Why did I feel like I had been here in this exact position before?

A whimper rose at the back of my throat, and when I peeked my eyes open, I expected to find the forest floor around me soaked in red.

But there was nothing.

And I was safe.