We rode a half day later with our weapons in tow, ready to catch up to revenge. The one true God teaches us forgiveness, but I made peace with forgiveness being at the end of my musket.
Henry Jon hunted the circle for what happened, for revenge over the body I apparently took over and left in my wake in the past. I had no memory of anything before this life; I didn’t even remember my hands holding such power.
None of this made sense, and now knowing Nyx was more than someone I trusted was making my head spin.
I trusted Nyx, yet Bolton was the first person to steal more than trust from me as soon as I walked on campus.
Luna was my only friend here, and I found a way to let trouble even ruin that before I packed up and left again.
Typing out her name with a new message, I knew hiding out in the woods wasn’t going to help… or was it? I had been virtually hiding for 14 years, and it seemed to serve everyone pretty well. As soon as I came to Arcadia, there had been nothing but trouble.
I stopped, staring down at her name and a blank text I had yet to type, as I contemplated running. The only thing stopping me was my dad, who wasn’t really even my dad, who was in some secret location off saving the world.
I deleted the text and typed out “Dad” instead: I think I’m in over my head. Call me when you can.
I knew getting to a phone in the middle of a war zone or third world country was more than hard, but I tried to stay hopeful. Something in me needed to keep burning.
I retyped “Luna” out, more stable and calm than a minute ago: Pizza? Girls’ night in? I didn’t know about Nyx, and I would never indulge it.
I felt guilty just typing out his name when it wasn't mine to claim, write, say. All of that belonged to Luna, the one madly and quietly, in love with him.
Everyone could see their true feelings glued to their features when they were in the same room, except them.
They weren't giving in enough to just date, and I had no idea why. Now, maybe I did know: dreaming of another girl can put a damper on even the strongest motivations.
I was stubborn enough to stay in the woods until my hands felt numb and stung from the cold coming in. I pushed Henry Jon's journal in my bag and started back towards campus in the same direction.
I started walking, with every dead leaf and broken branch crunching under my boots, when I felt someone else’s presence, strong enough to make me stop in my tracks.
I knew it was stupid as soon as I shouted it: “Hello? Anyone there?”
No one answered, just as I expected. No one was stupid enough to follow someone in the woods as dusk was settling in, just to pop out from behind a tree to respond with a casual, “Hey.”
Sinister feelings gripped around my vital organs, making it hard to expand my chest enough to get the oxygen I needed. Someone was in the woods with me, and I didn't know who or why.
Crunch, snap, a hollow step on a rock… all were a flashing neon sign for the sinister one behind me. I was making it easy for him. I kept walking in quick steps, until I saw campus in the wood’s opening, and I sighed heavily, hopefully.
Fuck you, sinister fucking woods. Joke’s on you.
Just as my head craned back to look at campus and my foot stepped over the threshold onto the perfectly manicured grass, I felt the hand clamp over my mouth, and a strong arm encircled my waist, dragging me back into the woods.
What little movements I could make felt draining as I forced them to become big and threatening. My hands gripped the forearm of the strong person, who wasn't even moving his hand from my mouth, for good reason—they knew I'd scream. My whole body felt a focused sense of anxiety, and I noticed my hands began glowing with the gold I still wasn't even used to.
Suddenly I felt a small pinch in my side, sharp enough to steal my breath and replace it with a jagged one that added to my anxiety.
My tense, small movements became limp as my eyes fell half-mast, too heavy to hold up anymore.
I realized the person was dragging me, and my heels were creating small trails in the soft dirt, like fucked-up breadcrumbs.
Arianna
I woke up with every muscle feeling sore, every bone rattling under my skin, and my heart beating so slow I felt drowsy. I didn't recognize my surroundings as I looked all around me.
I was on the floor, on top of an antique rug, and the only light was a small lamp in the corner with a yellow glow barely illuminating anything at all.
It looked like an old study or speakeasy, with dark accents, comfy furniture that begged you to stay, old paintings hung, and the red walls gleamed like a threat.
Where am I?
I didn't realize I said it out loud until a husky voice responded, “Welcome to my place. Oh, and you’re welcome for saving your life.”
The shadow in the doorway appeared with his blonde hair pushed to one side. His arms were crossed in front of him, and his necklaces danced on his forearms.
I tried to stand up, but my body wasn't ready, so I sat up straight with my arms matching his disgruntled demeanor. “Caellum, how lovely to see you again. I thought we couldn't hurt each other? Felt pretty painful to me.”
“Maybe your tolerance for pain is just weak…” He handed me a water and smirked, knowing I was still stuck to the floor, despite my trying to get up. I snatched the water bottle, feeling the inside of my cheeks get tight without any real moisture.
I was a sack of skin, twisted in knots, and so tense it could've produced bruises from Caellum’s stunt.
“Maybe you’re just an asshole.”
He chuckled, pushing his fingers through his hair, looking attractive in all his malevolent ways.
I scolded myself for even thinking that, when he made it clear he was all about himself, only himself, and I wasn’t joining that fan club any time soon.
My legs felt less like Jell-O, and I used the chair to get up from the carpet. “What am I doing here exactly? You have my number; that’s less work you know.”
Stalking over to the desk, I looked at the map he had of the woods rolled out and held down by paperweights made out of ordinary objects: a cup of pens, as football trophy, an ashtray devoid of any ashes.
“Omari was in the woods following you. It was the only way to keep you quiet and out of trouble.” He took a marker and drew a black x over the map in a specific location next to the stream, and I wondered what he was looking for.
Me? The journal? The husk?
“And? He's circle.”
“Not everyone in the circle can be trusted. Were you not at that exclusive meeting I was forced to attend?” His voice was as sarcastic as mine, but every sentence ended in a lashing, reminding me he did it better so I shouldn’t bother to try.
“Still didn't have to stick me with… whatever that was...” I was arguing with someone out of my league, and the failure of last time was making me feel small.
“Did you die?” His eyes still shifted down to his map, not seeing me cross my arms and roll my eyes.
“No.”
“It’s adamantine sickle bore from Gaia. In small doses, it isn’t lethal for us.”
“So you poisoned me? Wow, can’t trust anyone around here.”
“Relax, it’s not strong enough to damage the immortal flesh melted down.” He was casual about almost killing me—so casual that I felt anxiety I never had before bloom inside my chest. I was sitting across from someone who was not afraid to betray those around him—his own kind.