AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Grey’s arms screamed in agony between Reign’s hold and the zip-ties keeping his hands at his back. His wrists burned and threatened to push out of place while he blinked back watering eyes. Reign growled and jostled him for what he assumed was to get him to quit struggling. But an ear-piercing scream made Grey seize up shortly after, ripped straight from Reign’s throat as Grey fell free and tumbled into the grass.
He gasped and squirmed as a warm hand clasped his wrist. “Hold still.”
Noel.
Tears threatened to spill with how much relief spread through him at the sound of that familiar voice, accompanied by the snap of zip-ties and pressure fading from his wrists and ankles.
“You filthy little creature,” Reign seethed, voice dripping with malice as Grey was yanked to his feet. He only got a glance of Reign doubled over in his now-soiled fancy, black garments, head lifted to bare their teeth at Noel.
Then Grey was running hand-in-hand with his friend, who still gripped a bloody blade at his side. “There’s a bridge up ahead,” Noel said through heaving breaths, his head whipping around with the rapid shuffle of grass growing closer. “Fuck?—”
Something hard slammed into Grey’s back, shoving him face-first into the ground. The air tore from his lungs before he could manage to scream. Dark fur appeared on the edge of his vision, followed by a quick clamp of teeth on the back of his neck—enough pressure to be a threat, though it didn’t move farther than that as more creatures shot past. Straight toward Noel.
Grey struggled to move, finally croaking out a pathetic cry when a snarl emitted from the offending creature’s muzzle like an order: stay put. Likely one of Reign’s barguests, ready to maim on command.
A yelp followed. Then another.
He tried to move his head to take it all in, but Reign’s gravely, warped growl cut through Noel’s fight with the rabid fae-wolves: “I can’t wait to hunt you like a rabbit in my domain and skin you alive to teach you not to touch what’s mine.”
Grey grabbed at clumps of grass and gritted his teeth as he attempted to squirm free again. Teeth dug deeper into his flesh, on the verge of puncturing skin.
“Run!” Grey screamed, fighting every instinct to yell Noel’s name and give his captor another weapon to wield. Fear tore through him with the sound of every shambling step Reign took.
“No, stay,” Reign hissed, their voice growing closer and more deranged. “It’ll be my pleasure to spill your blood here and now.”
A rush of footfalls through the grass, and Grey squeezed his eyes shut. His pulse pounded hot in every dimple of teeth until the creature’s jaw suddenly released. When his eyes flew back open, he glimpsed the spray of gold sprinkling the grass before the barguest fell limp with a final whimper. Noel’s face—spattered with fae blood—drew close to his, every feature pained as he helped him back to his feet with greater urgency than before.
No more words, save the echoing rage of a shambling Reign trying to catch up. The rush of water almost started a torrent of relieved tears down Grey’s cheeks—a feat to hold back the second planks from the hanging bridge sounded underfoot. He gasped and stumbled forward from a single, offending swipe at the back of his shirt.
“Grey,” Reign growled, “stop.”
The bridge swayed back and forth, forcing Grey to catch himself with a hand wrapping around the rope at his side. But when Noel tried to pull him forward, his legs screamed in agony, like they’d been run through with a million needles.
Noel spun around, eyes wide before narrowing on whatever lurked behind Grey—undoubtedly Reign—and quickly grabbed his shoulders. “Come on, we need to keep moving before this fucker does something to the bridge.”
“I-I can’t,” Grey whispered, forcing back the wobble to his voice.
“What do you mean you can’t? Grey?—”
“I can’t move my legs.” Tears finally fell then, like the overwhelming sense of doom closing in. There was no escaping this—no escape from the fair folk nipping at their heels every step of the way. Any time they struggled, they simply ended up closer within these creatures’ reach.
The chilling, even tone of Reign’s next words might as well have been a nail in that coffin: “I don’t want to hurt you anymore, Grey. Turn back, and I’ll let that dirty-blooded mongrel go, for now.”
Noel’s mouth twisted into a snarl. “Don’t listen to them,” he hissed. “Bastard’s afraid of a little running water turning them into a useless little sprite.” He leaned forward, hoisted Grey up over his shoulder with a surprised yelp, and flipped Reign his middle finger before launching into a sprint across the bridge.
Grey clung to the back seams of his denim jacket and held his breath as the pain in his legs subsided, even despite Reign’s glower laced with pure rage. But they didn’t pursue—they simply stood there without trying to cut the bridge loose or pacing to find another way across. And after Noel took a sharp turn into the woods, Reign was out of sight, though far from out of mind.
29
NOEL
Noel refused to put Grey down until they reached the brush where he’d stashed his motorcycle. Every complaint his body made up until that point, he ignored in favor of the adrenaline keeping him upright. Adrenaline that was also siphoning more and more magic by the second, practically eating him alive from how much energy he’d spent slicing through all those fae-beasts—let alone the iron blade he’d plunged straight into that fair folk’s back. Seeing the well of blood pour out and stain that bastard’s fine clothes hadn’t been enough to satiate him, but Grey had been the priority.
And now they were both a trembling mess trying to situate themselves on the bike and pulling bags over their shoulders. His heart raced when Grey’s arms wove around him and tugged on the opening of his jean jacket. Right where he belonged.
“Oh no you fucking don’t?—”
Noel’s head whipped around toward the sound of that dreadfully familiar voice. The click of a gun’s hammer being pulled back only served to tighten Grey’s arms around him in the face of Cavan standing mere meters away with red-hot hatred consuming his features.
