Page 6 of Up from the Earth (Equinox Seasons Duet #1)

Five

Tasks Given By The Weavers Of Fate Cannot Be Ignored.

W eb lines, created by infinite strands of the darkest hair, knotted around me in ever-shifting patterns. They slid across my skin, their silky texture betraying the knife-sharp edges they possessed. Every inch of my flesh skittered with unseen energy. Purpose and greater magics than I’d ever known swam around me, seeking entrance at every nook and cranny of my spirit.

Run, Cerri. Run out of here. This is too much.

My mind screamed at me to obey, while still another part of me—deeper down, buried under layers of ghostly soil—demanded that I stay, that I stay with her .

“I…”

There were no words, but then, as quickly as she’d rushed me, The Queen retreated, sliding across the marble floor as if she floated above it. With space to breathe, my eyes darted around the room, seeking an escape.

It was clear I needed one. This was too far off the path. The wolf had plied me with sweet sunshine words and threats of purpose. It was time for me to return to my mother and the stout house where I belonged. I was, after all, just a silly girl who’d disobeyed, who’d not heeded the warnings of my mother and sisters.

A hunter could fell a wolf, but there were none in sight. There wouldn’t be, not in this realm far past the forest’s edge. The only hope of returning to my life as it was lay with me. I had to ferret out a way free of this world’s grasp and get home.

Think, Cerridwen. Think.

Scanning the massive chamber, I looked to the shadows. There, between two sets of stained glass windows, I spied a small passage that led from the room. Without another thought, I raced for it, throwing myself into the shadowy abyss just past the frame of the wall. I didn’t care where the corridor might lead. I could follow it to a new location and adjust my plan from there.

My steps beat against cold stone flooring for several seconds, the echo nearly deafening, and then I reemerged on the other side of The Queen’s chamber. I could see the throne to my right still, and the exit I’d used was directly across from me on the opposite wall.

“How?”

I scrambled, losing my footing on the slick marble, and then flung myself back through the passage behind me. The echoing was far worse this time, painful to my mind and skull.

And then I came out through the first opening I’d used. I had traded places, but I had not left The Queen’s chamber.

Turning toward her, seeing now that she stood watching me with a smirk painted over her crimson lips, I glared.

“Let me leave. I need to return home.”

I tried the passage once more, then again, and again, and again, and again.

My lungs burned. I’d sprinted with everything left in my already exhausted body. Crumbling to the floor, the cool stone felt like heaven against my cheek. As I continued to heave for breath, unsure if I’d ever see the world stop spinning, I shook and reached for my ears. I’d sensed warmth on my neck, and sure enough, I pulled back fingers stained with red.

The echo in the in-between space was too much for me to take. I could still hear the melody playing in the throne room, clear if ringing, as my equilibrium settled. Still, the pain was far from gone.

And then she was there, standing just inches from my face, her pale, shadowy skin coated in a thin layer of blood just on her feet.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Silly little seedling. It is not for you to go that way. You, Cerridwen Adaire Locke, must stay.”

I was hauled to my feet, her tendrils of hair anchoring me to the floor at my ankles and holding my arms out to the side. The strands were under her complete control, and The Queen could use them down to the most dextrous, detailed movements. I felt trust-up like a prisoner, the Queen’s captive human. Stranger still, while terror continued to loom in my blood, there was something else.

Something that made me tingle with wanton heat from head to foot.

Pat, pat, pat.

The sound of her steps hitting the floor reminded me of leaving the bath still dripping wet and walking across the tile to retrieve a towel. The Queen’s blood was the water this time, and small red footprints dotted the stone floor as she circled me, weaving through her strands of hair like a graceful orb-weaver.

My skin prickled with goosebumps, and from somewhere unseen, a gentle breeze wafted over my skin. It was frigid, making my flesh prickle, and the taught pull of my nipples was so intense it was nearly painful. Gods, it feels almost…good as well .

“I have waited so long for you to arrive, little seed,” her voice slipped between the threads holding me to lavish my body with their power; I trembled, “since before you were even born.”

“What are you talking about? Why would you—”

But the words dried up in my throat as The Queen stepped closer, tickling her claws over the skin of my arms, toying with the sleeve of my nightdress before hooking it around the curve of my neckline. I couldn’t help but look down at where she touched me, seeing just how exposed I was beneath this almost translucent fabric. The room was somehow humid even though it was so chilly, and the moisture had clung to my gown, making the fabric stick to my curves, revealing some of the light peach of my skin.

“Just look at how your body responds to me.” The edge of The Queen’s nail found my nipple, coming up from beneath it to flick the sensitive skin, making me gasp. “My innocent girl longs for my touch.”

What was happening? How was I in this realm at all, let alone the chosen victim of some great and terrible monarch? Why…why was she right?

Every inch of me thrummed with a longing need I’d yet to experience before. It had always been just out of grasp, too far away for me to take in my hands. Now, though, whatever this dark entity was doing to me, regardless of form it seemed, was so potent and authentic that I could feel its magic coursing through my veins like a drug.

She was behind me again, and her lips pressed to the fluttering pulse in my throat. The Queen smiled against my skin, her short fangs teasing me. Reflexively, I tried to clamp my legs together but was stopped by the hold she had on me. It was so odd to be bound, so terrifying, but I would be lying if I’d said it was only that.

What is wrong with me? This can’t be right.

“You’re just aching for me to dig my claws into you, my fangs,” their points scratched over my skin, threatening puncture, “aren’t you, little seed? You want my pain and pleasure mingling in your blood. My sweet, sweet Cerri. So very much mine .”

There was no hope for a response. I was too far gone by whatever magic she was weaving through me with her spider-like machinations. Fangs just pierced my skin, and I moaned as a light-headed ecstasy began to fill me up. Her warm palms found my breast, so slight compared to hers, and gripped hard, demanding my body for her own. I squirmed uselessly in the threads of hair that held me still, her tiny trapped insect to play with.

Suction pulled on my neck, and I knew she was swallowing me down. Then, a tongue swept over the injury, leaving me with a tingling sense that focused in on the injury. Warmth dribbled down my throat, staining the pristine white of my nightdress, my blood a contrast to the pale color.

The Queen's lips followed the rogue trail of my spilled essence, lower and lower until they closed around my nipple, the fabric of my gown growing warm and wet as she suckled at me. She nipped at the pert bud, and my thighs fought to clench once more—deeper reaches of me clamping down around nothing.

“Trying so hard to close up.” She slid her hands around my sides and then down to the curves of my ass, her claws laying pinprick attacks on me. “You won’t, little seed. You’ll open up and give it all to me, what belongs to me.”

Faster than I could track, The Queen stood, snatched my long hair in her grasp, and hovered her blood-stained lips over my own. The pinch in my scalp was fierce, but none so more as the glorious humming that wormed through me as this incredible being almost kissed me.

It was so close, nearly there, but it was far more of a tease than a true kiss. My head was craned back as The Queen controlled me by my hair. The strands of her own tightened, biting into my flesh. She spoke against my mouth, her breath warming my skin.

“How will I find you, little seed?” The Queen’s free hand snaked down my stomach, sneaking down to the inside of my thigh. “Are you wet for me?”

She chuckled. “I know you are. I can smell it. I can smell that sweet arousal painting your thighs, the slippery slick of your cunt dripping for me.”

A whimper escaped me as I shook in place. I’d never heard such words, and I reeled, a solitary tear sliding down my cheek. Whether from desperation or fear, I couldn’t be certain.

The Queen’s hand roamed further up to the juncture between my legs. A lightning strike of terror lit me up at the thought of her claws shredding me, but then—as the ghost of her touch whispered over my slit—I realized they were gone. She’d used some magic to rid herself of them on this one hand.

“Mmmm,” she groaned into my ear, burying her face in my hair as her fingers moved back and forth over my seam, “feel that delicious need, how I smooth it over your skin. Tasting you, breaking you, is going to be the epitome of perfection.”

Energy built up, consuming me from the inside out. I felt like I might explode, the sensations swirling so high it was like being intoxicated. It was as if I was right on the edge of something—something that I was utterly ravenous for.

That throaty chuckle of The Queen’s rumbled right into my ear before she whispered to me. “So easy to work up. So pure… untouched . Ugh, I can’t wait to ruin you, corrupt you.”

Her words held no meaning as my logical mind was thrust into the background. I writhed against The Queen’s fingers as she toyed with me. I needed her deeper, inside me, and yet she continued to drift her fingers across my seam, only just dipping inside to touch the fiery bundle of nerves at the tip of my slit.

Please, please, please, I need—

Right as I thought I might finally tumble off the cliff I was dashing toward, a rushing wind channeled around me, and the breath was stolen from my lungs. The pressure of The Queen’s web evaporated, and I could no longer feel her on me or anywhere near me for that matter.

I collapsed to my knees, hitting a hardwood floor. Mumbled words surrounded me, too much and too fast to process.

“Cerridwen! Oh Gods, there’s blood.” I knew that voice. “Cerridwen!”

Finally mustering the strength to crack my eyes open, I looked up, waiting for the fuzzy blur of sight to solidify into something I could process. As it did, I glanced left and right, noting the familiar sights of the kitchen and dining room.

I was home.

Craning up, I held myself on my hands and knees, looking into a face I knew as surely as my own.

“Mother?”

“Cerri!” Her arms were around my neck in a heartbeat, squeezing me tightly. “Oh, thank the Gods. I thought you were lost forever.”

I was home, in the coven house where I’d grown up, with my sisters surrounding me. But the warmth and icy chill still clung to me, as did the memories of The Wolf and The Queen. They had pulled me back to them. My thoughts were empty and overflowing with confusion simultaneously.

“I…I thought so, too.”

My mother held onto me, offering a tight smile. “You are home. And I’m never letting you go again.”

Ominous tension worked through my spine, and I stifled a shiver. I wasn’t so sure about that.

A n owl called out into the night, and I heard it as clear as day. I’d yet to fall asleep, only lying there in my bed and staring up at the ceiling. I’d counted the beams of wood that ran along its length, each section making up the greater whole of the protective surface. My thoughts had been continuously circular, consistently coming back to a wolf and a woman.

Why was I brought there? What work could the universe possibly have for me, of all people?

New, inexperienced, young, I was all these things. I was not strong or especially fast. I was not particularly talented at magic or that of a particular type. I was a simple girl, an ordinary, if curious, girl who was surely destined for nothing special.

I was not remarkable in any way.

That is where you are wrong, little beast.

The voice bristled through my mind, making me shoot upright in bed. It flung the covers off me, and an unearthly chill worked its way over my skin, forcing goosebumps to the surface. Though I knew I would find nothing, I couldn’t stop myself from scanning the contents of my room, watchful for eyes in the dark.

As expected, I was only greeted with the nearly pitch-black shadows of my room. I’d pulled the curtains closed when I lay down to rest, and now—getting up on my knees to reach them—I threw them open. Moonlight spilled into my room, brightening those grim shadows.

Still, there was nothing.

My heart pounded against my ribs, but I began to lay back down. I needed rest. Everything would be clearer in the morning, and if necessary, I could commune with the spirits for guidance. As my eyes closed, my breathing starting to even out, the voice came again—louder.

Who do you think you’ve spoken to, little beast? A spirit. A god. And it is time for you to run, run once more through the trees .

Sitting up again, my skin hummed with unseen energy. My legs twitched, an odd built-up sensation like I had to move them or…I wasn’t sure what. I pulled over the blanket, hanging my legs over the bed so that my toes touched the cold wood floor.

I hadn’t changed out of that nightgown. Something in my bones wouldn’t allow me to, despite how it had been frayed at the edges and stained red. The shoulder of the dress slipped down my arm, and it was as if…as if I could track the sensation of fingers helping the fabric to reveal me.

Get up, Cerridwen. Come to me.

Before I realized it, I was standing, my legs moving, guiding my feet through the steps out of the room and down the stairs. In the kitchen, my hand poised on the handle of the back door, I stopped. My mind fought against the compulsion to run; at least, it tried.

But I only shook harder and harder until I turned the knob and stepped outside.

Do not fight it. Come to me now, little beast.

In the voice, I could recognize the power that I’d felt before—that of the Wolf and Queen. This was that force, but it was…different. I was ‘little bloom’ to the Wolf. I was ‘little seed’ to the Queen. To this facet of the ancient being that spoke to me, I was ‘little beast,’ and everything about this version felt darker.

The Queen was not light. The Wolf was not. But this…King reached into depths farther than both. Every inch of me trembled, a furious heartbeat scrambling to fuel my instincts, my instincts to run.

So I did.

I ran through the trees, branches and bush scratching through my skin along the journey. The farthest reaches of the wood were rushing up to greet me. I would soon be at the gate once more, helplessly falling into the World of Below.

“Cerridwen! No!”

I slammed to a stop, dirt and leaves kicked up at my feet. Turning over my shoulder, I saw my mother standing at the edge of the forest. She wanted me to come back. I could see the fear in her doe eyes, the same eyes I’d inherited.

But I could also sense The King. In moments, the shadows grew longer and longer, waves of black reaching out across the ground like hands. The air became heavier and heavier, and in a blink, a massive form of inky substance stood towering over the landscapes, its shape both separate from and part of the trees.

“Your daughter belongs to me, Margaret.”