Page 47 of The Howling (Monsters of the Yeavering #2)

I ’m not running. I’m definitely not running. I’m never running again, even from Reavely, even from a life which seems so cruelly offered then taken away.

And what’s worse is I hate myself for wanting something for myself. It’s like I’ve used up all my luck and now all that’s left is bad.

But still, when Reavely is distracted and I can’t stare at the fire anymore, I make my way up to the battlements. Maybe the air will clear my head, make things look somehow better.

Maybe I’ll be able to think of how it’s even possible to clear up this mess I’ve put myself in. All which keeps howling at me is that I should have asked more questions . But I didn’t because I wanted things to be easy.

Nothing about the Yeavering is easy. Not one single solitary thing and even more so for a non-magical being like me. At least the witches and warlocks who inhabit this place, the offspring of Faerie and humans—they have something, some magic, the ability to manipulate spells and defend themselves.

It’s no wonder humans don’t last long here.

I open the small wooden door at the top of the spiral staircase, and the wind whips past me. I lamber out into the morning air, and the coolness sends prickles over my skin. I’m not sure if I’m feeling better because of it, but I am at least thinking a little of something else.

The door is sucked closed behind me with a bang. I jump, clutch at my chest, and then laugh at myself. Of course this place is haunted. I know most of the ghosts personally.

Other than Linton, the super creepy mothman assassin, there is nothing scary in Reavely’s castle.

Save for the devilish face peering at me from outside the battlements, the fortifications which have a sheer drop of forty or more feet on the outside.

A set of long, horrible, clawed fingers curls over the stone as the face is joined into a wizened body, covered in grey fur.

A set of black eyes glitter at me menacingly.

I retrace my steps to the doorway, but as I do, I hit something hard, like stone. I turn with relief to what should be the doorway.

But there isn’t one. Instead there are vast stone legs. As I lift my head, I see carved armour, a great stone sword, and it’s quickly clear this is a stone knight, at least nine feet tall. He has no face, no expression, nothing but the radiating evil which flows from him.

“Come, little hinnie,” the grey devil rasps from behind him. “Do not anger the knight, or he will remove your head with his sword.” He cackles like old Nick himself. “Which won’t please the master at all.”

“I’m not coming with you. This is my home.” I stumble over the words, fear spiking in my breast.

After everything I’ve been through, I feel horribly guilty for even wanting Reavely to come save me…again. But in the face of these…creatures…I don’t want to have to deal with them on my own.

“You have a new home now, with Lord Soulis.” The creature laughs wetly. “And while he’ll probably not be happy to have you without a head, he can make do with fewer limbs.”

I’m about to scream when a thick stone hand grabs my neck and squeezes. It’s enough to choke me but not kill me.

The creature leans into me as another hand grasps my wrists, whereupon he winds a thin piece of red string around them. The enchanted skein feels like iron cutting into my skin.

“Now, now. There’s no point calling for your Barghest. Lord Soulis already has him.”

“I wasn’t going to call for him,” I pant out. “I was going to call for Lilburn.”

I scream her name as loudly as I can.

There’s a pop as she appears, slams an elbow in the side of the foul grey creature, and grabs my hand. I feel like my head has imploded as everything goes dark around us.

“Ah, there she is, waking up now.”

I flutter my eyes open to see Lilburn and Lorelei sitting side by side.

Lilburn leans forward and puts a cup into my hands. “Drink this. It’ll make you feel better,” she says.

“Where.” I twist to look at my surroundings because we are most definitely not in the castle anymore. “Where am I? Where’s Reavely?”

“Drink your tea,” Lorelei says kindly.

I don’t look at the cup as I raise it to my mouth and take a sip. It’s pleasant enough tea, slightly sweet, as if sugar has been added.

“What happened?” I’m not entirely sure, but it looks like we’re in some kind of cave, albeit one cleverly carved to look like a dwelling. The large stone windows to my right look out over a wide river which meanders away down a valley, one side steep and the other a flat flood plain.

“I don’t want to worry you, my dear, but Reavely’s been taken by Lord Soulis,” Lorelei says.

“And he wants to marry you, or he’ll kill the Barghest,” Lilburn adds.

The only sound is the cup clattering to the floor.