Curse of Ferreus

21 - Destiny & Legacy

Orion's fist tightens at my throat, leaving me gasping and clawing at his arm for some semblance of leverage. His strength is immense and unyielding. He's going to kill me.

"Is this what you did to my boy?" he hisses, shoving me down, pressing me hard against the ground sodden with blood. "I'm going to tear you apart, do you hear me? There is nowhere on this earth you can hide, no hole you can crawl into, where I will not find you."

I stare up at him, a strangled gasp rushing past my lips as an agonising pressure thuds through my skull. His face melts like wax until Esme gazes at me with empty, cold eyes. There's a bullet hole in her forehead. Blood seeps like tears down her cheeks. It's all my fault.

She does not say anything. She sobs and sobs until the noise morphs into laughter— a raucous, hideous cackle.

"River!" I hear Rowan's voice, tight and high with terror. He's in trouble. They've got him pinned. I can't see him in the darkness, but I know he needs me. I struggle and struggle but Esme shoves me down, down, down, until the earth closes in around my head and I choke on dirt and blood.

"River!"

A sharp thud startles me to clarity. I'm already reaching blindly for the silver knife beneath my pillow when the fog of hysteria passes. I'm in the spare room, not in the woods. I'm entangled in bed sheets, not dirt, and the gasps wracking my form are nothing more than remnants of a bad dream.

Rowan's in the open doorway, the hallway light glowing serenely behind him and casting him in a halo. He's a tousled mess of joggers hanging off his hips and tattoos snaking up his arms and bare chest heaving with deep breaths. His eyes shimmer golden and I watch as the tension seeps from his form. I forgot to lock my door.

For a moment that stretches on and on, we stare at one another, breathing heavily. Until at last, Rowan startles back to himself.

"Sorry, I— I should've knocked. I heard you shout and I thought— I'm sorry," he rushes out, already turning to leave.

"Wait," I manage, tugging a shaking hand through my sweat-dampened hair and sliding the knife beneath my pillow once more. The dream is too close, still. Suddenly, desperately, I don't want to be on my own.

Rowan must catch some hysterical strain to my tone because he falters, still clutching the door handle like a lifeline. "Are you okay?" he asks.

I melt against the sheets, grab a pillow, and throw it over my face to block out the world. "No," I mumble.

"Me, neither," Rowan admits. "I've just swapped shifts with Lachlan and I heard you and—"

"You heard me?"

Rowan clears his throat and I hear the door click shut. "Just about. Well, the rooms are mainly soundproofed but my room's opposite, so..."

"Your room's..." I trail off, not quite able to finish. I picked this room of my own free will, and I chose the cosiest, safest one. Go figure he'd be close by. I can't even summon the energy to be mad about it.

"Do you want me to leave?"

I stay quiet for a moment or two, trying to force the word out of unwilling lips. It's easier with the pillow blocking out reality, and I eventually manage to mumble, "No."

"Alright," he says, his voice holding the slightest trace of relief.

I hear his footsteps cross the room and my attention locks onto the sound. The hairs on my arms rise and a shudder slides down my spine. I can picture him barely a hair's breadth away, I can almost feel the heat of his presence, of his unwavering focus. And yet, the urge to grab my knife stays distant.