Page 63 of Potion of Deception (Potion of Deception #1)
His eyes darkened as he snapped his fingers.
The last thing she saw before the dark blue coat obscured her was Nigel who nearly levitated in her direction.
A loud groan left Dante's lungs as Nigel sank his teeth into his shoulder, a blow that was intended for her. The fine hairs rose on the back of Violette’s neck.
Dread crept out under her skin, making her body petrify for a second.
“Little Witch, run!” Dante yelled.
Violette didn't hesitate; her legs rushed off on their own. Abruptly, she turned around and looked back at Dante resisting Nigel as he pressed him to the ground.
“I said run!” he commanded again, his voice cracking.
She only glanced at Caidas still standing at the same spot like he didn't want to be involved, like an owner who let his dog off the leash, waiting for his job to be done.
She wavered a step back before spinning on her heels and running as fast as she could.
It felt like her heart could easily overtake her if it could jump out of her chest. Her hands clenched the delicate fabric of her gown, holding the hem above the ground.
Her legs hadn't stopped as she threw a look over her shoulder just once to take a glimpse of what was happening, but all she saw were naked trees and a fragment of two blurry figures through the branches.
The escape from whatever she heard in the Forest of Somber Eyes was nothing compared to the terror that consumed her now, perhaps because she definitely knew who was hunting her this time.
If she thought she couldn't run faster before, she was so wrong as her legs were racing for their life, never would she think running on heels would be that easy.
Adrenaline was flooding all her being, her heart drumming loud as a thunderstorm.
The sight of the carriage didn't bring her relief but she was completely out of breath to continue her way on her legs.
The driver seemed to come to his senses, sitting at his seat as if he was commanded to wait for them after a casual little walk in the forest.
“Oh, miss!” He lifted his eyes from a brochure in his hands. “Did something happen?” The confusion crinkled his eyes at the sight of Violette gasping for air.
“No time to explain. Rush as fast as possible!” she commanded and burst open the door.
Sudden rustling coming out the back made her foot freeze on the carriage step. She looked around and jumped inside.
“But what about–”
Violette cut the coachman off as her head popped out from the window.
“I said make haste!” she yelled. “Go!”
The man didn't say anything else. As soon as the reins were drawn, the sound of the horses' hooves beat off the ground at great speed.
Even minutes after, Violette couldn't soothe herself, staring at the road left behind as if waiting for anything to suddenly show up, like a big beast jumping out of the thickets.
Finally after watching the road for a while, she got fully inside, her back collapsed into the seat.
Her chest was raising up and down, she tried to ease at least a little before her heart would burst from the speed of its beating.
Everything happened so fast – she couldn't even collect all her thoughts, which scattered like coins on a marble floor. Her mind was a place covered in a thick pathless haze. Turning her head, she looked through the window again. A scream nearly blew out her lungs as a male figure stormed in.
“Easy, easy. It's me,” Dante calmed her.
She breathed out with a release that it wasn’t someone else. However, his presence was not very comforting now either.
His coat was gone, half of his shirt was ripped, the blood dripping from his shoulder.
Violette’s brows twisted together, her lips parted and she gasped for air once again.
Her eyes glistened in the darkness as Dante’s hand reached to hers.
He tried to calm her down, reassure her everything was fine but then he was forcibly thrown out of the carriage.
This time the scream left her lungs, after all .
It was Nigel, trying to get in. Dante sank his nails into his arm, another hand into his shoulder. The carriage swayed from side to the side. Nigel gripped the edge of the door but soon both of them fell to the ground and were whipped out.
Violette dug her palms into the seat, pressing herself against the wall desperately trying to become one with it. She crawled to peer outside, but as the carriage sped down the road, she saw nothing except a glimpse of a bright red jacket.
The wind fluttered her hair – the locks were getting in her face as she peered back for a long time after. The trees were flashing past her eyes, the cold air wrapping her by the shoulders. Her breath steadied. And then the carriage stopped.
Violette hit the floor as the horses neighed. The warm light twinkled in the darkness from the spot where the door was before it was ripped off.
“Why did we stop?” she called, rising on her feet.
“We're back,” the driver let out.
She looked out – they were in the town, standing before their inn.
“I don't know what it was but no money is worth it,” the man stuttered, wiping the sweat on his face with a handkerchief.
Her brows drew together and she jumped out of the carriage. Her gaze fell onto the peaceful inn bathing in the warm light of the lanterns, bringing a slight ease to her soul. She made it, was it stupid to think the town was her protected place? Precisely. But she had nowhere to go.
Her eyes dragged to the damaged door of the carriage. Dante probably paid the coachman in advance but she didn't have money with her to cover the damage, though it seemed it wasn't something that bothered him – he pulled the reins and got away as quickly as possible, just being happy to stay alive.
Violette picked up her petticoats and got inside the inn, wobbling to her room. She was exhausted and scared. As soon as the door behind her closed, her back laid upon it; shutting her eyes, a deep sigh slipped from her lips. Her heart had never been that close to fleeing her body.
She lightened up the room and took a few shaky steps to sit on the bed. She needed some time to come to her senses. But how possible was it?
She got rid of her capelet, in the urge to change her dress – it was getting on her nerves. She actually would rather take a shower and wash away everything she witnessed if only it would help. Her eyes darted to the clock on the wall – the arrow showed the midnight hour.