Page 58 of Realm of the Wicked

No. There was no way. I kept it on my left. The sun was on my left. The house should be there.

‘Oh my God,’ I cried, kicking the closest tree in front of me. ‘Oh my God. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for whatever fucked-up shit I did in my life to deserve this. I’m sorry, please don’t let me die in here. Anywhere else but here.’

There was no escape from the Fringe. I knew that. He told me that. But here? I didn’t want to die here. I shivered. The temperature dropped by the second, and I couldn’t make out the sun through the trees any more. It was going to be dark soon, full dark, and I’d be out here alone, and who knew what things lived out here?

It wasn’t even a real sun. Was it even a real dark? It was all just a façade, just like the rest of this mess. Like Damien. I’d given up so much to protect Grace. And I’d do it again, a thousand times over.

But now, I was alone.

Alone and cold, with no way home.

The raven called again, an ache growing in the pit of my stomach. I slumped against a tree, letting it carry my weight as I sank to the ground. My arms only provided me so much warmth. Grace was safe, but somewhere along the line, I’d lost myself.

I tried to find the old me again, once or twice, but I always looked in the wrong places. I grabbed a handful of wet leaves. My heart cracked as I realized I didn’t think I’d ever see the old me again. The one who laughed without holding back. The one who gave without fear that one day, she’d give away a little too much of herself.

Who looks after you? My head hit my knees as I drew my body closer together against the cold. I’d been so insistent I didn’t need help or looking after, and now look where I was. A bitter chuckle escaped me, echoing through the dead forest. Pride goeth before the fall, or however they say it.

Something crashed through the trees just out of sight. Squinting, I did my best to make out what was beyond the trees. Just the wind. Ignoring my racing heart, I got to my feet. The last of the sun was setting, and darkness would be upon me in minutes.

I stepped backward as a loud crunch echoed in front of me. Through the brush, I thought I could just make out a set of antlers. Just a deer, I told myself. Nothing more. But I didn’t relax.

Nothing on this estate was as it seemed.

Damien was the Devil. Maybe I’d convinced myself he wasn’t, but what I’d seen had reminded me of who he really was.

Yet, he was the only one who’d taken care of me. He was the only one who helped when I was desperate and scared. Soulless, and more concerned about me than he was about himself. He’d hurt someone, and I couldn’t find it in me to be truly angry with him.

Besides, was he really the Devil if he’d take on the role to protect someone else? Despite his insistence that it’d been a selfish decision, I couldn’t find anything except selflessness in it.

I was more upset he’d hidden so much of himself from me, thinking I couldn’t handle it.

He didn’t think I could handle him. Maybe I couldn’t. Maybe I couldn’t handle any of this. The Fringe, the Nihil, the forest, being alone. Maybe he’d done right by hiding it from me, if this was the kind of mess I created on my own. Alone, in a forest I couldn’t find my way out of.

I held my hand to the rough tree bark as the rustling leaves that trailed behind me drew closer. Daring a quick look over my shoulder, I saw the antlers again. But these antlers were far too large to be a simple stag. A chill raced over me as I took in quite how large they were, draped in a nest of ivy and moss. I ran, sprinting as fast as my cold body would let me, knowing I was well and truly alone.

Damien had cared about me. He had to, even the smallest amount, to have shown me Grace. To have taken care of her like he did. He’d told me the truth. Someone didn’t do those things without caring. And what had I given him in return? A demand for physical affection he obviously didn’t share? Judgment for a role he had no choice in?

Damien wouldn’t be able to find me out here, and even if he could, I wouldn’t blame him for leaving me here. No sense saving someone who judged you after showing you showed them kindness.

The stag crashed behind me, unyielding.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said out loud, as if anyone could hear me. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t accept you for who you are.’

The raven crowed again, closer this time. Based on my experiences in the Fringe, this stag was here to drag me off into the pits of Hell, but not without mauling me first. And yet, I wasn’t scared any more. I was too cold to be frightened. In fact, maybe it was better to sit down right on the dead leaves. My organs weren’t working right, my brain or my eyes. A rest would do me some good.

Let them take me. It couldn’t be any worse than messing things up with the first person who looked out for you in a decade, no matter the title of it all.

The sounds drew nearer, loud in the near silence of the forest, and I squeezed my knees to my chest. Dark shadows rounded the trees, spelling out my doom.

Looking up, I met the eyes of the haunted stag head on for the first time. It had to be the size of a moose, its face merely a skull draped in a crown of green. It blended into the dead forest surrounding me. I stared back into its lifeless eyes, daring it to come closer.

I shivered.

The shadows slunk closer and the deer disappeared into a cloud of shadow, leaving me alone once more.

I blinked.

Something had to be wrong with my eyes, because instead of the stag, the dark shadow in front of me was, ‘Damien?’