Page 44 of My Rules

“Freya.” The door bangs again. “Run, Freya. Run. They’re coming for you.”

“Run, Constance,” I yell through the door. “Save yourself.”

Constance is my younger sister; she needs to get out of here, or they will kill her too.

“I’m not leaving you here,” she yells through the door.

“Witch. Witch. Witch.” The cries are closer as they turn the corner.

“Run,” I scream. “Run while you can.”

I hear her panicked footsteps, and I peer through the curtains to see her just make it across the field and into the forest before they come around the corner.

I run to the back door and out into the field. “There she is,” they scream.

And I run.

I run as hard and as fast as I can.

Hands grab my hair and pull me back. I struggle. I fight. I scream and kick.

They capture me anyway.

Hours later, bruised and battered, fear is running through my blood like a wildfire.

Like a prized possession, the townspeople gather around for the show. I stand with my hands tied behind my back within a giant pile of wood.

Tonight, I will be burned at the stake.

Dirty, bloodied, and broken, I don’t have any fight left in me.

“What kind of fucking book is this?” Henley snaps. “I don’t want to read depressing shit.”

“Who wrote this?” Antony frowns. “This story does not go with daddy kink.”

Fascinated, we read on.

The guard holds up the torch of fire, and I close my eyes in preparation.

I always knew they’d come; the writing was written on the wall. They killed my grandmother and great-aunt before me.

Both had the curse.

Tainted with the same brush as I.

The wind picks up. Dirt flies through the village, a mini tornado that begins to tear apart everything in its path. The skies go black as people scream; the thatching flies from a nearby roof.

I look around at the destruction. What the hell is happening?

Then among the chaos, I see him.

Walking toward me in slow motion, his dark eyes hold mine. Standing at over six foot five with black hair and olive skin, his jaw is square. His body is large, but it’s his presence that overwhelms me.

A darkness that can be felt from afar.

The crowd sees him and begins to scream as they run, scattering in all directions.

No . . . it can’t be.

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