Bound by Darkness (Bound By Series)

7. Breaking Shadows

Chapter 7

Breaking Shadows

THALIA

Blinding light flitted over my eyelids as a groan left my lips.

I stuffed my head deeper into the pillow to avoid the harsh rays. It hugged my flushed face as my arm draped over another, its silky texture soothing against the throbbing ache radiating in my spine.

My hand ran over the white sheets?—

Everything slowly filtered through my mind, pieces coming back one by one. Lord Haville’s dead body. The tonic. The masked assailant.

My fingers reached behind my back to assess the damage, but they paused as they flitted over the soft texture of linen, the movement sending ripples of pain across my entire back.

It had been real.

Taking a breath at the unfamiliar decorum, I scanned the room. Situated across from the four-poster bed lay a wooden chest and desk, each etched in different patterns and whorls of red cedar. It would have been quaint, cozy even if I knew where I was.

A hiss left my lips as I shuffled out of bed, soreness radiating down my back .

I searched the room for anything that might provide me with a clue, but I didn’t even find a single piece of paper with a name scrawled across it. Scratching my head, the other solution required me to wander outside the room to where my captors potentially waited.

I chose to roam outside as I cracked open the door, the hinges groaning to life as I hobbled into the hallway.

There were two doors across from me as I opened the first one, revealing a bathroom. The other door revealed a bedroom mirroring the one I had woken up in. The only difference seemed to be a bookshelf by the window stuffed with yellow-paged books.

Leaving the rooms behind, I slowly made my way to the staircase at the end of the hallway, the floorboards creaking under my weight as I descended.

The sound echoed in the all-too-empty house, my breathing growing uneven with each step. The stairs opened into a living room with two green couches opposite each other. The space was cramped due to the massive brick fireplace along the wall. Decorated with stems of ivy and lace, the fireplace matched the pattern sewn into the couches with red thread.

Situated across from the living room lay a display case of metallic swords and daggers glittering with gems. They were beautifully crafted, the thin curve of the blades an art form I had long since seen.

I tore my eyes from the glass case as a figure darted from the door beside me, light bouncing off its surface. The shadow stopped, gray eyes widening as they met mine.

Gray eyes—it was him. The man from the carriage.

He was dressed in a fitted black shirt and baggy pants that were too casual among the tacky furniture. His arms flexed across his chest, the muscles underneath rippling as he paused, his head angling toward me .

Curly black hair swirled around his cheekbones and forehead, highlighting the planes and angles of his face. He was someone Moria would have called handsome, blessed by the Fae gods for his chiseled jaw and bone structure. Someone we both would have fawned over in another lifetime.

A pang in my chest reminded me Moria rotted in that cell alone. I had broken our promise.

The image sent an icy chill through my blood and bones, anger gnawing and snapping through them. All my rage needed a target as I threw myself at him, a snarl rising from my throat.

My arms found his chest as I punched and slapped the muscle beneath. Skin ripped and tore under my bandages, but my fury consumed me more than the trivial feeling of pain.

He didn’t flinch as he became the target of my aggression. “You!” I screamed. He caught my hand as he deflected my punch. “You kidnapped me!”

I curled my free hand as I sent it hurtling toward his chest, but he gripped it with his fingers, stopping the momentum.

“You took me from her. You took me from my home!” I took a step back, my neck and face heating from the simmering lava boiling within me.

His voice rang out flat as he spoke. “I saved you. You’re lucky to escape the clutches of Lord Haville, let alone the Armas prison unscathed.”

“I’m lucky ?”

“A roof over your head, new clothes, and food would more than suffice as lucky.”

I bitterly laughed. “This is ridiculous,” I said as I took a step around him.

He mirrored my step, blocking the path to the door. “And where are you going?”

“Back to the castle,” I spat. “I’ll figure out a way back in, so move out of my damn way.”

“Why would you ever want to go back?”

“It doesn’t concern you,” I hissed.

“I believe your rescuer deserves an explanation.”

“You deserve no such thing. Let me pass.”

“No.” He said as his arms crossed over his chest. “You don’t even know where you are, do you?”

I shoved past him, my footsteps heavy as I hobbled through the pain. My fingers found the door at the end of the hallway as I swung it violently open, the wind howling its greeting.

Carefully maneuvering myself down the few wooden stairs older than the stone walls of my cell, I stopped as my feet planted against the soft blades of grass.

I scanned the area for any opening, any sign of a road or path. There was nothing except the cabin plopped behind me in the middle of a sea of green.

“Welcome to Lost Woods.” He leaned against the wooden support beam, a gleam etched into the swirls of his eyes. “I’m sure you’ve heard the legends—of the fog surrounding this place.”

“Lost woods? But that’s?—”

“A few days ride by carriage.” He jerked his head toward the door. “I suggest coming back inside where it’s safe.”

“No.” I needed a way to get out, even if it resulted in me dying from the disorienting mist.

He rolled his neck. “I’m not debating with you.”

I bared my teeth. “I refuse to listen to a Fae’s request.”

He took a step forward, wood groaning beneath his black boots. “If you go out in those woods, the mist will intoxicate your senses immediately in your current state.”

My fingers itched with anticipation as I glanced at the forest surrounding the cabin. One more step down and I would bolt into the forest. To hells with magical memory loss mist. It was a legend. I mean, he had gotten through the mist fine. If he could do it, I could too.

His black boot lifted, his fingers peeling from the wooden railing.

My muscles screamed, ready to dart under the cover of branches?—

“What’s going on out here?”

A woman peeked her head around the cedar door, her gray hair cropped above her pointed ears. She smiled, wisdom etched into the lines of her forehead as her brown eyes settled on me. “Oh good, you’re awake,” she said, the thick accent of Estel flowing in a song-like rhythm. “And starvin’ by the looks of you.”

I paused as the woman hobbled down the steps, a few curses spewing from her cracked lips at the groaning wood.

She closed the distance, her cheeks highlighted with pink as her withered hand met the curve of my back.

She applied pressure as she guided me toward the cabin. “You must come inside and rest. I’ve got hot food and plenty of it.”

My feet dragged against the field of green, but for a woman nearing the end of her life, she was surprisingly strong as she guided me up the stairs, past the arrogant Fae, and into another prison.

Steam billowed from my cup in great heaps as I held it, the nutty and smoky flavor pungent as it wafted to my nose.

She’d corralled me into the kitchen, pushing me into a wobbly chair as she raced around the tight space. I kept one eye on the door, but he leaned against it as he assessed me where I sat.

It was the only exit and I was trapped.

“Go on. Take a sip,” the woman said as she watched my eyes dart across the black substance.

Thirst clung to my throat, pushing me over the edge as I took a slight sip. I slammed the porcelain onto the chipped table as I coughed deeply.

“Not a fan of coffee?” She laughed, handing me another cup filled with water.

My nose wrinkled as she removed the bitter-tasting substance. Did it contain poison or some other ailment to render me useless?

Raising the clear glass, I sniffed it. It seemed fine, but the bitter taste still lingered on my tongue. I wasn’t sure what their plan was. Letting my guard down further would be foolish.

The woman returned with a plate piled high with eggs, toast, jam, fruit, and meat I hadn’t seen before as she set it in front of me.

A cup of water rested in her other hand as she took a sip. Her eyes roved over me, making sure I saw that singular gesture it was safe.

Staring at the spread before me, I fisted the utensil. It looked good. More than good as saliva dripped from the corners of my lips.

Temptation etched my fingers further, but I resisted the pull.

“It’s not poisoned,” she said as she sat next to me, her plate piled with eggs and meat. Her hand shook as she delicately raised a piece of egg to her lips, chewing softly before swallowing. “See?”

My stomach rumbled, starvation licking my bones as the beast within won. Gripping the fork, I shoved pieces of egg onto my tongue. I nearly moaned as my mouth warmed for the first time in years. There wasn’t anything graceful about it as I scraped more onto my eager tongue, the textures and taste heavenly. When was the last time I’d had food that didn’t smell slightly of mold?

The slapping of a plate against the table tore my eyes from my fork as he sat, his nimble fingers spreading jam over a piece of toast. He remained quiet, his eyes refusing to trail toward mine.

The woman took a sip from her mug as she directed her attention toward the man. “I’ll need help clearing the garden this afternoon, Ivan.” Her knife worked to cut the meat into thin ribbons.

Ivan .

“Okay,” he said, his knife clinking against the plate.

Who were these people? Why was I here? Why had he rescued me from the prison? Surely, it didn’t consist of stuffing my face with sweetened jam and hearty meats.

“Well, if you’re going to be staying with us for a while, introductions are in order,” she said.

Clearing her throat, she spoke, “I’m Gwen, and this is my son, Ivan. There isn’t much, but you’re free to roam around the house and use whatever you see fit. The bedroom upstairs is also yours. I left a few articles of clothing for you in the dresser, but I’m afraid they won’t fit well.”

Flicking her gaze toward Ivan, she took a bite. “He will also leave you alone for the time being. It seems my son has forgotten his manners during his time away.” A low hum escaped her lips before she leaned back in the wooden chair. It creaked to life as she rested a hand on the table. “Speaking of, what is your name, dear?”

My lips remained sealed. These people didn’t deserve to know my name. Sure, they had fed me, but in this world, kind gestures always required some form of payment.

“Thalia Carr,” Ivan answered, his arms crossing over his chest.

My fork dropped to the plate.

My last name .

“Thalia,” Gwen repeated, the thick accent rolling my name like a prayer. “What a lovely name.”

I rose quickly, the chair clattering to the floor.

I took a step back as pain sent tendrils down my spine. “How do you know that name?”

“Goodness! What’s wrong?” Gwen replied as her fragile frame leaned to pick up the scattered chair.

Not a wrinkle across his forehead formed as he sat up. “Then it is your name,” he said, his fingers curling slightly.

“How do you know my last name?” I ground out as I inched toward the kitchen door.

The exit. He wasn’t blocking it anymore.

“Her wounds!” Gwen yelled. “Thalia, you need to be careful about reopening your stitches?—”

I panted as I slid around the counter. “How do you know that name?” The King told me he hid it. The day I’d arrived at the prison he said my family name would disappear along with them for the curse I’d been born with.

How did he know?

How did he know?

Ivan stood, his large frame swallowing the light as it reflected from the window. His steps were wide and calculated as he approached from the side, his eyes dimming. “Some nightmares don’t disappear.”

Everything came crashing around me in the too-small kitchen. My back hit the door as I fumbled with the iron knob, my hands sticky from the jam.

The knob wasn’t twisting.

The door rattled as Ivan placed his hand against the flimsy wood. His eyes were soft as silver stared into mine. “I know about the curse of the Carr family and what you possess.” He took a deep breath. “I need your casting. The darkness you shield from others. The darkness gifted to you at birth.”

The doorknob twisted underneath my fingers as it opened.

He knew .

The door. I needed to run to the door. The roaring of my blood blocked out any other sounds as it pulsed throughout my body.

Ivan blocked my path, a solid wall of muscle standing between me and freedom. His shoulders were weighed down as if chains were linked across his back. “Sorry to disappoint, but you won’t find the freedom you seek beyond that door.”