Page 1 of Cruelest Kiss and Fairest Blood (Tales So Wicked #2)

Lenore

T he bitter taste of the poison apple clings to my tongue, mocking me with the promise of a torturous death to come. How could it cause so much damage when I’d spit the small bite out so quickly? Were those few precious moments enough to seal my fate? Run, Lenore, just keep running.

The ground beneath my feet turns rough and unforgiving as I enter the outskirts of the dark forest. Bones and branches jut up from their mass grave.

Hidden fingers claw at my skirts and stockings.

It’s as if this dark, dangerous land is alive, haunted by the lives of all those who dared cross into its world of black trees and endless night.

Horror settles over me before I even breach the tree line.

A violent cough rattles through my lungs.

I spit on the ground, not bothering to slow my pace.

The back of my hand withdraws from my lips, stained in a black-flecked crimson.

My throat seizes as the thunderous beating of my heart threatens to choke me.

Am I truly dying? Fear winds down my throat like a serpent, consuming my every memory of happiness and joy, replacing them with a terror and hopelessness that trigger a flood of silky, unwanted tears down my flushed skin.

The sounds of violent voices inspire me to pick up my pace. I can’t let them catch me. A return to my home promises nothing but a quick and final resting place on the scenic castle grounds.

All I have to do is make it into the forest. Even without the king’s decree, none are foolish enough to willingly enter the trees of the damned. None but me. But I have no other choice.

The ground shakes. A whinny of protest tears into the air behind me. The guards have taken to horseback. My panic takes on a life of its own. I had a head start before. But what little lead I have left will quickly be overtaken by the furious pounding of so many determined hooves.

The consistent burning in my enraged muscles scorches into an inferno of pain as I push my body far beyond its limits.

My years of physical training feel laughable in this moment.

I should be more prepared for this. Perhaps my trainers and tutors were merely entertaining a naive princess, whispering words of praise in an attempt to stay on my father’s good side.

It’s taken me too long to realize I can’t trust anyone.

The finality in that statement tugs at the shadowy corner of my heart. Somewhere deep down, I know there’s one man out there who’s different. Harrow. He’ll find me. Even here, in this pitch-black hell. He’s the only one who can.

The tree line is just before me. I take a deep breath in, filling my lungs and holding it. Goodbye, sun. Goodbye, clean air and daylight. No more flowers. No more gilded cage.

One step. Two. Three. And then I’m inside.

A thick, tarry mist covers me as I pass the border.

Another stabbing cough wrenches from my lungs, forcing a harsh intake of the grey veil surrounding me.

Ash. The sooty, abrasive particles bury into my throat and chest. Another fit of coughs has me doubled over.

There’s more blood now. A terrifying amount.

My palm is filled with the dark, metallic substance.

Keep moving. I can’t see more than a few inches in front of my face.

Is the entire forest like this? Am I going to suffocate before the apple’s poison can steal my last breath?

I reach out, blindly scoping for something, anything in the darkness.

Air. I need air.

My legs pick up again, running without sight, expending the last of my breathable air.

It’s a gamble, but it’s the only hope I have left.

It’s getting hot. Ash fills my eyes, nose, mouth.

Is something burning? Am I choking on scorched trees or charred corpses?

The idea of the latter makes my stomach churn.

A leaden weight settles in my arms and legs. I’m not going to make it. If I can just push past this damn cloud of…whatever the hell it is. Tears stream from my eyes, mixing with the sweat that’s coating my face and body.

I take my next step and plummet, my stomach pitching into my throat as the world falls away. Descending like a broken-winged bird through the vast unknown, until I hit the unforgiving ground, and a guttural cry spews from me. I’m fairly certain the crack I heard came from my ribs.

Sparkling drops of iridescent light flutter across my bleary vision. It takes an infuriating thirty seconds to regain my eyesight. When I do, I realize several things at once.

One, I’m able to breathe again, though the searing pain from the continuous damage the poison apple is inflicting on my lungs still makes me flinch with each inhale.

Two, I’ve somehow broken free of the smoky, suffocating veil that swallowed me whole when I entered the tree line.

Three, I have made it fully into the belly of the dark forest.

The shimmering haze clouding my eyes clears, and I get my first look at the caliginous landscape surrounding me.

My side screams as I roll to my hands and knees.

I halt there, closing my eyes. Breathe in, breathe out.

I will away the pain. It’s quickly forgotten when a featherlight tickle brushes along the top of my hand, and my eyes flick open.

A black moth the size of a sunflower creeps softly across my skin.

It’s beautiful, with pearly patches of midnight blue and black across a pair of slender fan-like wings.

Its six tiny feet leave a tingle in their wake.

I track the motion with fascination as the moth makes its way to my fingertip.

I’m actually admiring how gentle and beautiful a creature of the dark forest is, but then the moth opens its mouth.

A spiny red proboscis shoots out, burying beneath my fingernail.

Unleashing a shriek, I jump to my feet and swat at the miniature monster.

It falls to the ground and is crushed by the swift stomp of my boot.

What the hell was that? A deep throbbing draws my thoughts back to my finger.

The pin-sized hole in my nail is darkening.

Deep purple lines begin spidering out from the puncture, spreading down my finger and the rest of my hand.

I clutch it, whimpering, as a fiery sensation burns up and down the marked flesh.

The damned thing was poisonous? As if I haven’t had my fair share of poison already today. The sole of my boot reveals a gooey purple puddle. At least it’s dead now.

I take in the rest of my environment. The brief sense of relief that softened the sting of terror at nearly dying has evaporated. The grisly chill of dread crawls across my skin like a pack of ravenous insects.

Unusual and unnerving sounds echo from all around me.

Whispers, screams, growls, all haunting the air with their promises of terror and death.

No one who’s ever entered the forest has made it out alive.

There are no stories of what lives within.

I have no clue what may be stalking me between the trees right now.

“I should never have come here.”

The frightening noises rise in volume as the forest cackles in agreement.

As another coughing fit overtakes me, I lean against the nearest tree for support.

Black-flecked blood stains the dark, dusty earth below.

The second it lands, a grotesque snake-like creature emerges from the dirt.

My lungs seize. Wicked grey eyes set in a trio of glowing heart-shaped heads peer up at me.

The creature’s tongues dart out, scenting the air.

It lunges forward, descending upon my blood and lapping it up with terrifying speed.

I stumble away, revulsion souring my stomach.

Whirling, I race in the other direction with no clue where I’m heading.

A nearly invisible rope of some sort pulls taut in front of me, catching me at knee height.

The ground comes up fast and furious as I tumble down.

It’s so damn hard to see. I reach up, gripping onto the nearest plant for balance , and rise.

My knees are pounding where my collision with the forest floor has left my skin torn and bloodied.

Cracked ribs, bloody lungs, poisoned fingernail, busted knees.

What else can I damage in this horrible place?

Whatever I’m holding onto is sticky. I try to open my palm but can’t.

I’m stuck. My fingers are clenched tightly around the…

rope? White, sticky rope? A vibration thrums through the strands reaching me from somewhere above.

I lift my eyes and feel the blood drain from my face. It’s not a rope. It’s a web .

There must be thousands of strands of thick white webbing laced together in intricate patterns that weave between the trees and to the uppermost part of the canopy.

A new terror as cold as ice drops into my veins.

There are bodies in the web . At least six that I can count at first glance.

Men and women lie splayed out across the massive structure. Some sob, others are catatonic.

A burly man with curly brown hair and an unkempt beard flicks his gaze to the tops of the trees and screams. I follow his stare.

Descending ever so slowly is the biggest spider I’ve ever laid eyes on.

It must be larger than the royal carriage and its horses combined.

The paleness of its body is so light, it’s nearly translucent.

Eight legs bend and flex as it lowers itself toward the man.

The body of the creature is horrifically humanoid.

Its upper torso houses four spindly arms. The neck of the arachnid monster is far too long and leads to a rounded, eyeless head.

A lipless mouth sits fully open in the center of its grotesque face.

The screeching, rattling scream the arachnid releases causes me to freeze. The noise vibrates out of the monster’s chest, then from farther away several similar sounds answer in return. There are more of those things out there…

The bearded man thrashes against his restraints.

I notice he’s missing his right hand and the lower half of his left leg.

The spider drops below him and scurries to hover just above the man’s already-mutilated lower body.

The monster unhinges its jaw, opening that gaping fang-riddled mouth even wider, and slides it over the man’s other leg, reaching all the way up to his hip.

A metallic grinding reminiscent of the mill hits my ears. The man screams and screams.

The spider heaves twice, twisting its overlong neck, and swallows the appendage.

I can make out the full outline of the man’s muscular leg as it slides down the creature’s throat, passing into its rounded abdomen.

A bloody, ragged stump is all that’s left behind.

Blood gushes from the open wound. With quick fingers, the spider uses its webbing to tie a tourniquet, stanching the blood loss.

Upon further inspection, every person caught in the web is missing limbs. It’s slowly eating them alive .

A yell of pure terror bursts from my gaping mouth. Hell. I’ve ended up in hell.

The creature’s eyeless face snaps toward me.

I bury my fingernails into the webbing that’s stuck to my palm, tearing at it with animalistic panic.

I slash at it over and over, pulling so hard I fear my shoulder will leave its socket.

My hand pops loose, dislocating several fingers in the process.

Pain momentarily dulls my senses. I clutch at my mangled hand, squeezing until I snap back to the present.

My boots crunch along the forest floor as I shuffle backward.

I’m not letting that hellish arachnid grab hold of me.

I spin, racing away from the web of nightmares, heading deeper into the woods. My hand is bent into several unnatural angles, but there’s nothing I can do about it right now. A good hand is no use to me if I’m being consumed by a giant spider.

Survive this, find a way out of the forest, then find a healer.

The trees are more densely packed here. They reach for me, gripping my arms, hair, face.

I flail, fighting off the thorny fingers as I thread my body through the tangled mess of branches and bramble that weave the mass of trees together.

Blood weeps from the dozens of scratches that now cover my skin. But I can’t stop.

That nightmarish rattling screech reaches my ears.

It’s following me . Fear assaults my burning heart.

I cough again and again, letting the blood spill from my lips as I fight my way through the cursed thicket.

Victory races through me as I leap into a clearing.

I break into a run but am immediately dragged to the ground.

My head smacks hard onto a jutting rock, sending stars across my vision.

Something constricts around my ankle, dragging me back into the dense woods and closer to the howls of that grotesque spider and its wailing victims.

I fight the creeping blackness devouring my vision, but there’s nothing I can do to stop it. All I can do is pray that when I open my eyes next, it’s beneath the silver gaze and icy blond hair of the man who’s become my only hope.

As my world fades completely, I whisper his name, “Harrow.”

A hollow growl sounds from above me, and the next time I speak it, it’s on a scream of pure, bloodcurdling terror. “Harrow!”

Please, God, let him find me in time .