Page 4 of Forever Bound

It only takes a moment before I am completely alone.

The blood in my eyes obscures my vision, and the pain from my injuries is making me dizzy and nauseous. I rub my head back and forth against the tree, and finally manage to loosen the gag.

The world around me spins as my head lolls to the side, my neck no longer strong enough to support itself.

Snow begins to fall, thick and heavy, quickly coating the world around me with powdery white magic. It would be a sight to behold were I not dying.

I can't even feel the cold anymore. My body is going into shock, and I know I won't survive much longer. My head wound seeps blood. My face is raw and cut. Everything in me aches. The rope digs deeply into my skin, cutting flesh.

I'm nearly unconscious when I first see him stepping out of the shadows of the forest and into the moonlight. The god these villagers fear and worship in equal measure. He looks like a man from a distance. A tall, muscular man with a wild mess of short dark hair that accents his pale skin and clear blue eyes.

He wears a long black cape, black pants and a black shirt.

As he comes closer, I get a better view of him, and I startle at his face.

It's chiseled from stone, beautiful in its way, but covered in scars that mar that beauty with unspeakable pain.

His gaze latches on to mine, and once he is a few feet from me, he stops.

He speaks, saying something in Russian, though with a strange accent I don't recognize.

I try to speak, to explain that I speak limited Russian, but my words are mumbled. My mind is cloudy, and I can't find the words I need, so I switch to English. "I don't understand you. Please… help me. I'm… dying."

The taste of blood coats my tongue as I cough. Alarm spreads through me, filling my veins with adrenaline. Panic wells within me, and I use the last of my strength to strain against the ropes.

The god-like man surprises me by speaking again, this time in broken English. "What crime you committed?" he asks, standing so still it's like he's become a part of the landscape.

"Crime?" I shake my head, a sob choking me. "My plane crashed. I didn't…" I cough again and more blood sprays from my mouth. "I didn't do anything wrong."

At least not here. Not now. Not this time.

I push away thoughts of my past. I don't want to die with my deepest regrets haunting me. I'd rather think about the happy moments in my life. Those are the memories I want to carry into the afterlife, whatever that may be for someone like me.

The man steps forward and leans down, bringing his mouth to my neck. He sniffs at me, as if testing a fine wine, then pulls back. I gasp when I see his mouth. His teeth are elongated unnaturally, and his eyes have turned black as night. "You innocent?"

Innocent? That's a hard word to unpack for me. The short answer is no. The long answer is yes I'm innocent of anything he might accuse me of, but there's so much more to me than this trip.

But I can't explain all that. I'm too far gone. I just shake my head.

As darkness engulfs me and I resign myself to my fate, I feel the ropes around me release and my body collapses into strong arms that lift me up and hold me close.

"You innocent," he whispers, and then he runs through the forest as I drift into darkness.

Chapter 2: Where the hell am I and how did I get here?

Pain.Bone deep and splitting.

I try to scream but end up vomiting instead.

A large hand gently turns my head so I don't choke.

Gentle fingers—cool to the touch on my feverish face—brush back my hair.

Tears blur my eyes, but I open them wide enough to see I'm puking into a beautiful china bowl hand-painted in exquisite detail, and I feel a sudden surge of guilt for spoiling such a lovely piece of art.

When my guts are thoroughly spent, I fall back, and the hand supporting my head rests me against a pillow.

My eyes flicker, then I open them slowly, pushing past the pain.

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