Page 96 of Unveil

“…if I ever tell you to run, you run, alright? No matter what. I’ll find you.”

Please, Orion. Find me.

I keep going, even as every step away from him drives the knife deeper into my traitorous, cowardly heart.

Vines and roots claw my ankles, threatening to twist them to their breaking point. Fog thickens, blurring my vision, but I search the trees anyway for some sign I’m heading toward safety. Red paint mars the tree trunks—but red isn’t safe anymore, so I keep sprinting through every wheezing breath.

Red.

My head swims as the naked branches and dead vines all begin to look the same in the mist.

Red.

Spots darken my vision, as if the trees themselves are marked…

Black.

Relief surges through me, and my knees nearly buckle.

Fury land. Orion said I’m safe here.

Then again, we were supposed to be safe in Lost Cove too.

But no Wilde should follow me here.

And yet… someone is.

Footsteps I’ve been trying to block out continue to crash through the undergrowth, louder and closer than before. Prey-like panic takes over, propelling me faster. A scream claws up my throat, but I swallow it down. Orion said help wouldn’t be able to hear me past a quarter mile, and as far as I know, the only ones nearby are my enemies.

Lightning scars the sky, blinding me. The hollow opens beneath my feet without warning.

I tumble.

Down, down, down.

My limbs flail like a rag doll, slapping against clay that snatches and rips my costume as I fall. The decline spits me into a shallow bog, and I splash onto all fours into cold water as dark as spilled ink. Mud curls like icy hands around my knees and wrists, trying to tug me deeper while my tutu clings heavy to my legs. My hair coils into dripping, snakelike tendrils around my face.

Head spinning, I silently sip measured breaths through my nose, forcing them past the pain to focus on the slowing footsteps still dislodging pebbles up the hill. Nearly bare trees stand watch in the swamp, their gnarled, exposed roots rising from the ground and cradling mounds of soft moss. I grip a rootthat’s thick as an arm to help me stand as quietly as I can, pulse jackhammering while the footsteps get louder. Too loud.

Wildes and Furys know how to sneak through these woods. Whoever’s after me is being this noisy on purpose.

Who’s hunting me? Is it an enemy? Or Orion?

Is there a difference?

He doesn’t know I’ve forgiven him for the way he talked to me, or that I desperately needed him to show me howalivewe are after witnessing my friend get mur?—

My hands fly up to silence my sob as Benoit’s death flashes in my mind. My eyes slam shut against the memory I’m still coated in—the blood still streaking my forearms, soaking feathers and staining tulle with desperate handprints. The end of my friend’s life clings to me thicker than the mud threatening to drag me under.

Tears pour hotly down my cheeks, a contrast to the chilly rain, and my heart aches. My soul begs for relief it knows only Orion can give. He’s the one person who’s seen me teeter on the edge as bad as I did the other night, yet he held me anyway.

And I might have just left him to die.

Orion’s a danger to everyone else, but he’s a safe space for me. Right now, I crave both. My emotions may drown me if he doesn’t lead me to the other side. I need the man who chased me. The man who saved me. The man who asked me to dance, even when I was terrified he’d run away.

Please catch me.

Beyond the fog and out of my vision, boots splash as someone heavy jumps into the bog. His loud, steady huffs are more animalistic than man. Until they go silent.