Page 122 of Oath of Rebellion

"We don't have time for this. I'm a Robin, and so help me Borga, if you want freedom, you will go to the cellars. Now!"

His voice boomed, and everyone scrambled to follow his command. Everyone except Scarlet. She cowered in the corner, her spirit wanting to fight but her heart wanting to run and hide. Maybe if she crawled under a table, she would be safe.

The big man came into the room knelt in front of them, a frown on his stony face. She blinked up at him, hope warring within her even as she trembled in fear.

"Scarlet?" he whispered. "It's alright. We're getting out of here. Miss, let's go?"

He held out a hand to the maid, and Scarlet wiggled her nose and mouth in fear. He smelled of stone and rain. Another scream from above had her scrambling to her feet to follow him and the maid. She grabbed his other hand, jumping in fear.

She felt bolstered by the touch, and she frowned as he led her down the hall after the servants. Her hand felt so small in his.

What was she doing? She wasn't this little child who needed to be led around by the hand. She stood straighter as they entered the cellar. Voices rose in panic, and the big man dropped her hand.

She flattened herself against the wall as he strode into the crowd and pointed them down the tunnel to freedom. This was familiar somehow.

Her nose twitched, and apprehension pressed on her chest. She walked to a different door, past everyone else and down into the dungeon. She glanced down at her feet and hands.

She had hands again. Barefoot, she strode down the dark, dank hall to face her nightmare. Memories of her tortuous time here flew through her mind, anchoring her in her human body.

She wiped her forehead, her heart racing. She felt her head, her face. Her heart froze in horror.

She still had the giant ears, but now she had antlers too. She still had the whiskers and a different nose. How long had she wished to be magical and different like her grandmother, like Knox?

But not like this. She never wanted this. What was she?

A pain in her ass as she walked made her pause halfway down the dungeon's walk of death.

She reached back, feeling her tail. She grabbed the curtain and ripped just under the belt. Her tail popped free, and she sighed in relief. Then she stiffened, feeling the tail. It wasn't a rabbit's tail anymore, but it wasn't a deer's tail either.

It was coarser like a coyote or wolf. Her fear made her heart race and her teeth hurt. She felt her mouth, finding sharp canines perfect for tearing into flesh.

The changes made her angry. She stomped the last few feet to the cell at the end. She pushed the door open, and it creaked. The walls shook and stones tumbled to the floor, but it was muted this far underground.

She stared at where she'd been held for days. She'd cried for ages. She'd been locked in the dark, smelly pit of despair while the king had prodded her, burned her, and cut her, all the while asking questions about the Robins and Knox.

The walls rocked again, and she somehow knew that the king was dead, that he could never get to her again. But the need for revenge lit a fire in her chest. Her tail wagged behind her at the idea, and she grabbed it to hold it still.

She slammed the door shut on the cell, and it clanged, echoing off the walls. She shut the door on her fear and refused to give in to the childish terrors of the dark.

Long ago, she'd been afraid. Afraid of the dark. Afraid of the monster that visited her every night in her dreams. Afraid of the future.

Then she'd lost her mother. Then her father. And now her entire world was crumbling around her.

She turned and clenched her jaw, her hands fisting at her sides. She would not be some weak watered woman who couldn't fight, couldn't defend herself, couldn't forge her own path in life.

So what if she was a rabbit, stag, wolf abomination, an anomaly of nature, a monster unlike any other? She still was who she was. She would not be ruled by this nightmare.

She strode through the cellar and into the tunnel to freedom.

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