EDEN'S POV
The more I run through the woods, ridiculous white ensemble being stained with dirt, the more one central fact comes to mind--wedding gowns are not meant to be run in.
I could have changed, I could have packed, I could have planned--but no--I have to be a 'runaway bride' in the most literal sense of the world, fleeing my dressing room in a gown.
It had all been in my grasp: stability, pride for my family, power and money--a life of hiding bruises and explaining broken bones away with supple lies. I had released it all when I climbed out the window and began to run east, into the woods.
My fiance doesn't know the woods the way I do, and despite the deep cold in the air I have a better chance at survival here. I swallow once, begging the fast pace of my heart to still as I hear the footsteps of one of his guards--of maybe even him. Even though a tree cannot save me, I press my back against the hard tree bark, ignoring the way it scratches at my exposed skin.
There's no way this ends in my favor. As silently as possible, I gather as much tulle and lace as I can in my arms before darting forward. The footsteps waste no time in going after me. Aren is not a man of mercy...I have the snapped wrist to prove it.
Before I can reer right or left, I'm pushed onto the ground with a force that leaves me breathless. "For what it's worth," Aren exhales while dropping down with ease, keeping me pinned to the ground with his body weight, "You make a lovely bride." He shifts, pushing the layers of fabric upwards in order to feel my thigh--my entire body is repulsed by his touch. "A shame."
My hands reach blindly for something, anything--and then I feel the coarse surface of rock beneath my palm. I grip it quickly. "Aw--don't count me out just yet," as I say the words I swing the rock upwards with all my force.
It crashes into his skull, and he falls off of me, slumped on the ground. I stand quickly, running a few feet back to find the horse Aren dismounted.
Is there a chance of escape? I don't dare go back to the town, where his men are in doubt searching for me, so I ride deeper and deeper into the woods, allowing the thicket of trees to encompass me.
I ride, doing all I can to not think of how truly alone I am. To be saved from punishment, I'd have to enter an entirely new world...I ride until I can see the wall that divides the mortals from the faeries.
How long have I been on this horse? The sun is much lower than I remember it, and my body aches with exhaustion, but I can't--
The horse jerks back suddenly, and I am thrown off of it, my head hitting the wall with such intensity that I can feel the pain even as I black out.
--
NARRATOR'S PERSPECTIVE
Feyra blinks thoughtlessly at the sleeping form Azriel had found. Through the layers of sweat and grime, and the hideous, puffy gown--she knows the girl. The sleeping girl...the girl not dead because of a miracle.
"You found her where?" Rhys asks, still unsure about having a human here.
"She was found with one arm sticking through the wall, but then someone pulled her in and decided that she was offering, but she was bleeding so much, and her wrist was broken and offerings from mortals that see us as gods have always been willing."
Rhys barely registers the words, instead turning to look at Feyra. "You know her?"
"I did," Feyra manages, unused to that stirring feeling in her chest, "A long time ago."
YOU ARE READING
A Court of Witches and Curses
Fiksi Penggemar{ACOTAR X READER/POC OC} - I blinked innocently, despite the fact that the lack of space between us and the way his breath is fanning across my skin makes my desire anything but chaste. "What's your problem?" The words are meant to be strong, but th...
