AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Save my mate.
45
Shadows
Hetty
Awakening, the first thing that occurs to me is that it stopped raining.
I don’t hear the roar of the downpour hitting the house, trees, and grass, nor the hard pattering against the windowpanes.
The second thing I notice is that I’m not in Stella’s bedroom anymore. Or even in Sage House, I realize, as I feel a rush of humidity and a warm sweat tickling my back.
I’m outside.
My hair, wet and heavy, hangs around my face as I crack my heavy eyelids open. Not only am I outside, but I’m sitting on the steps of town hall, leaning against one of the pillars that line the stairs.
Dogwood Street is sprawled before me. Even though it’s still dark, I see everything clearly—the tidy buildings, long benches, and the leafy dogwood trees lining the wet street.
The street is lit by blazing torches—about two dozen of them—stuck into the dirt next to the trees, brightening the tableau. I haven’t seen this much light in Goldenrod in over two months. The flames lick at the trunks and curdle the floppy leaves, creating long shadows that dance over the familiar street.
That seems dangerous, I think distantly, to have fire so close to the trees.
But then, I’m distracted by something new. A large wooden platform set up in front of the apothecary with a thick column centered on it. I consider it groggily.
What’s that for? It wasn’t here last time I was on Dogwood Street, the day Noah gave his speech about perseverance and maintaining the Order.
Noah.
The image of him, standing on these very steps, with his severe haircut and hollow eyes, reminds me of what happened in Stella’s bedroom.
Cass must have followed us here and ambushed us. I remember it now. In glimpses and fractions of memories. He hurt us. Said cruel things before his pressure knocked us unconscious.
It almost felt like Noah was there with me, so I kept half-expecting him to jump into the room and overpower Cass. But he never did…
Oh no. Without thinking, I move to stand up, falling immediately on my bottom with a soft whimper. My body is bruised and broken, and my hands and feet are stuck…
When I finally look down, my breath catches in my throat. My blue dress is filthy, torn, and still a little wet, and my wrists and ankles are fastened with hard plastic ties. They’re digging into my skin, cutting off my circulation.
Panic fills me as I begin to struggle, pulling at my limbs frantically before a dignified voice resonates next to me.
“Don’t fight the bindings, Henrietta. It will only cause you more pain and discomfort.”
My head whips to the side. Isolde is slouched next to me, and Stella unconscious next to her. Both are similarly tied, but Stella is leaning against the opposite pillar, her mouth leaking blood and hanging wide open in a snore.
“Isolde! What happened?”
Her hair is frizzing around her bruised face, and her lip is split open. I watch her slowly touch it with the tip of her tongue before wincing.
“It seems he finally got his hooks in me,” she says with a resigned sigh, staring down at her bound hands resting gently on her lap.
“What? Who’s got his hooks in you?”
She’s saved from answering by the appearance of someone entering Dogwood Street—several someones, actually. Alphas, omegas, and betas. Faces that I recognize. Have known my entire life.
Both of us are dazed and distracted as we watch them file onto the street. They’re coming from all over—the side streets, as well as the apartments that sit atop the shops and restaurants.
Messy-haired and rumpled, they’re all dressed for sleep, in bathrobes and pajamas. Not only adults but children, too. Some of them are being carried, others are shuffling along sleepily.
