The window nearest her darkened for only a moment, the outside glimmer of silver light returning in a breath.
Her borrowed time had ended.
Lux dropped to yet another crouch, thighs burning as she crept along the opposite side of the trees. She passed by a rumpled bed with an unexpectedly bright quilt and a washstand before arriving once more at the door. It creaked open on ancient hinges.
The cloaked phantom floated in with soft footsteps—and Lux slipped out on silent ones.
Illuminated trees were soon lost to the deep wood, her eyes straining as one black trunk after another appeared in her path.Lux rushed, knowing that if she slowed, the next time she looked over her shoulder a howler would be staring back at her. A howler or a cloaked figure with a deadly long blade.
A jut on the forest floor appeared from nothing, catching the toe of her boot and sending her stumbling headlong into a looming tree. Lux gasped and spun, narrowly avoiding it, only for a second knot to catch her opposite foot. Her shoulder slammed into rough wood and her ankle twisted, searing hot.
Icy fingers clamped around it. Unseen nails dug into the skin of her shoulder, encircling her ankle, and Lux didn’t care any longer if she drew everything to her. She screamed.
There wouldn’t be a crow to save her now, and the sound of splintering wood echoed against the night as the tree yawned wide. The scent of rot, of death, wafted up from the darkness, so thick she could taste it, and the tree greedily sucked back what escaped. Lux flailed, her hand brushing against the blade tucked into her corset.
She drew it forth as black roots spiraled up her legs. But she didn’t use it against them. Instead, Lux sliced at the invisible fingers holding her hostage. The ones that sent streaking cold through her.
She didn’t know what she expected. Nothing, perhaps. But the five dark twigs that fell at her side were certainly not it.
The tree shuddered with fury. She could feel it as the roots loosened, and she pushed from them, falling backward into the oozing moss. Though, when that too, began to roil and shift, she shoved herself to standing and ran.
Her ankle screamed in agony. It wanted her to slow, to stop, but she couldn’t give into it. If she did, she would die. Her fingers held tight to the miraculous dagger in her hand, swiping at anything that neared.
Could the trees speak to one another? Did they know what she had done? It would certainly seem so.
The air around her trembled with a deep, pulsing anger.
Lux dodged branches and pivoted around roots, their sole intent to bury her amongst them. To punish her for the injury she’d caused. To feed on her body for eternity.
The bones of her ankle sent hot surges up her leg with every step, but it wasn’t until she saw a faint glimmer of moonlight that they gave way entirely. She screamed anew as something inside snapped. She didn’t fall but stumbled, trembling and broken from the trees and into the wet, fog-brushed grass.
Only then did she allow herself to collapse, sobbing beneath the bleak light of the moon. The pain came in massive waves, and she emptied her stomach because of it.
She rolled to her back when she was done, exhausted, her chest feeling as if it were splintering with every drawn breath. She was too tired to cry anymore. Hurting too much to crawl.
Had it been worth it? To discover the strange, glowing trees, the residence of the phantom, and the trick of her dagger? She didn’t think so.
Hot tears fell from the corners of her closed eyes as the moon fell behind shadows. She didn’t move. It was a cloud, nothing more.
Yet, this cloud was warm.
This cloud could speak.
“What the devil are you doing out here?”
Her eyes sprang open to make out Shaw’s dark gaze, his brow furrowed in either irritation or worry. She could never tell which.
“My ankle is broken. I didn’t feel like crawling.” She closed her eyes again. Let him send somebody else for her. Let him send no one at all. She would figure it out in the morning.
“Of all your ludicrous ideas, this is by far your worst. I shouldleave you here.”
She cried out as he lifted her, one arm at her back, another beneath her knees. Tears streamed down her face, falling against him. “I hate you.” But she let her eyelids fall, her face pressed against his warmth. She hadn’t realized she’d grown so cold.
Pressure against her ribs, there and gone.
“As if I don’t know that.”
He held her tight, keeping her legs from jostling as much as possible. Her fingers tingled, sending shooting sparks up her arms, and she burrowed closer, wrapping her hands in the thickness of his coat.
