Going back through the forest for the second time, Aria couldn’t help the knot of dread that tightened in her chest.
The last time had been terrifying, and this time didn’t feel any better. Worse still was the fact that they were on foot—Zyren had abandoned the horses back at the edge of the forest. And though she didn’t have time to count, it was obvious they had fewer men than before. Some hadn’t made it back. No one said it aloud, but the silence in their ranks confirmed it.
Zyren’s grip on her wrist was firm as he pulled her forward, deeper into the trees. She felt fear rising in her throat the closer they got, her breathing becoming shallow. The forest felt like it was watching her, and the shadows beneath the canopy stirred memories of the first time they’d entered.
When they crossed the tree line, she opened her mouth to speak, to ask how they were going to get through again—only to stop short. Just a few feet in, tethered and waiting, were fresh horses.
Her eyes widened in disbelief.
’Did the werewolves provide them?’ she wondered, though the thought made no sense. Why would Jared’s people offer help? But when none of Zyren’s men reacted with surprise, she quickly realized this was routine—part of some arrangement she hadn’t known about.
Without a word, Zyren pulled her onto the horse with him, and they rode.
The return journey was silent. No one spoke. Aria barely dared to breathe. Zyren sat behind her, his arm locked around her waist—tighter than usual. Not enough to hurt her, but enough to remind her that escape wasn’t an option.
She tried to calm herself, tried not to make any sudden moves that would draw his attention, but her thoughts raced. Again, she considered escaping. Just throwing herself from the horse and running into the trees. But Zyren was too close. Too fast. There was no point.
To her surprise, the journey felt different. Still dark. Still unnatural. But the crushing sense of danger she’d felt the first time—like some ancient thing might rise from the shadows and drag her into the earth—was gone. It was still a cursed place, but whatever had been watching them before seemed to be gone now, or perhaps satisfied.
The horses moved faster now, pushed hard. The air whipped against her face, stinging her skin. Through squinted eyes she could make out a faint light on the horizon.
’Why not run themselves?’ she wondered. She knew vampires could move faster than horses. But they didn’t. There had to be a reason. Something about the forest, maybe. She didn’t care enough to ask. She only wanted to be done with it.
Eventually, they emerged from the forest and returned to the main road. But the journey wasn’t over. The castle was still far, and time dragged. The sky continued to lighten, and soon Aria noticed a strange smell in the air—burning flesh.
She froze. The smell. Acrid. Sharp. Like meat seared on open flame.
She shifted slightly, leaning back just enough to sniff near Zyren’s shoulder. A cruel hope rising.
No smell of burning skin. No sign of discomfort. She looked down at his arms, pale and perfect, untouched by the rising sun.
Of course. He was different.
Disappointed, she turned her face away and closed her eyes, accepting the silence. She didn’t ask questions. Didn’t complain. She knew punishment was waiting. Whatever it was, she’d face it. There was no point trying to avoid it. He would make her pay.
She just hoped he would kill her quickly.
’Better that than the other thing,’ she thought bitterly. ’Better to die than be forced into his bed.’
Even that seemed too hopeful. More likely, he’d keep her alive, chained and suffering, just to remind her who held the power.
By the time they reached the mansion, the sun had fully risen. The vampires who had traveled with them hurried inside, hoods drawn tight, desperate to escape the light. New human guards came running out to help.
For a moment, Aria wondered why they were so quick to obey, then remembered—Zyren had power, and humans bent to power. Loyalty wasn’t hard to come by when your master could crush you without lifting a hand.
Zyren dismounted first, then lifted her down from the horse. He placed her on her feet gently, but she knew better than to mistake it for kindness. The moment her boots touched the ground, another guard came to take the reins.
She waited, expecting Zyren to lead her into the mansion like usual. But instead, he walked a few steps ahead—then stopped, speaking to two guards without so much as glancing at her.
"Chain her to the wall in her room," he ordered, his voice steady and cold. "She’s not allowed to leave unless I say so!"
Aria blinked, stunned. She didn’t move. Her hands tightened around the coat wrapped around her as she stared at his back.
He didn’t look at her. Didn’t acknowledge her presence at all.
"If anyone disobeys," he continued, "I’ll hang him and every member of his family on the palace walls."
No raised voice. No anger. Just a calm, deadly promise.
He turned to go, still saying nothing to her, not offering even the usual dismissive gesture. She wanted to scream at him, to throw something, but her body wouldn’t move. Her anger burned low in her chest, and when she finally found the strength, she did the only thing she could—she glared.
She glared at him with every ounce of fury she had left, the way she always did when he pushed too far.
Then, slowly, he turned to look at her.
His gaze landed on her, and a small smile curled at his lips. But it wasn’t warm. It wasn’t amused. His red eyes glowed faintly, and that gleam—the one that appeared when he was truly angry—was there.
"Little flame..." he said softly.
"It seems I’ve been too soft with you," he said, eyes never leaving hers. "...and you’ve forgotten your place."
Three guards had already moved to surround her, their expressions unreadable.
Zyren looked at them now and gave one last order.
"After chaining her up..." he said, voice sharp and unrelenting, "...break one of her legs."
Then he turned and walked away, his coat whipping behind him as Aria stood rooted to the spot, her face drained of color as she watched him leave.
Her heart racing and thumping in her chest even as every fiber of her being begged her to plead with him, aware that he was the only one who could override the order he had just given.