Page 32 of Her Tortured Beasts

Yet the dark stretches out into infinity. It’s the not knowing of when. Of how long that’s pressing on my brain, stewing it like water and sugar stew green apples.

I’m sleepy all the time now, dozing in and out, not sure when it’s night or day. The hunger has turned into an empty, dull ache, and I feel like I’m floating in the void of nothingness.

Luckily, Eugene is here to peck me now and again, a sharp pain on the hand or cheek to remind me there are people waiting for us on the outside. His mates. My mates. Henry and the nimpins in their own, sad cage.

The hours bleed on, strange shapes appearing in the void, symbols and patterns that make no sense, until finally, my anima lets out a low, tired keen, and something appears to me.

I must be asleep and dreaming because the shape of tall pine trees comes into view, many of them, under a sea of stars against a twilight sky. I stare up at it in wonder.

Have I forgotten what the sky looks like already? But it is vast. Never ending. Ready to swallow me up.

Raw emotion surges in my stomach as I look up at the expanse. I have never been afraid of the sky before. Never been nervous at the thought of being engulfed by it.

The snap of a twig behind me makes me spin around in panic. But the person walking out of the shadows is someone I do not expect.

I’ve gone mad. The solitary confinement hasfinallydriven me batty.

Scythe’s sky-blue eyes stare at me as if he’s seeing a ghost. His face crumples. “Regina?”

I let out a sob, and we are running towards each other. Me, frantic and stumbling upon the strewn twigs and leaves, him sturdy and sure as he reaches out, strong arms pulling me into his big, warm body.

By the Wild, Rabid Goddess, his scent fills my nose, my entire head, and I breathe him in like a drowning woman. May I drown in this beast forever and be swept away by his powerful current. His hands, first wrapped tight around me, now slide up my arms to my face. He tilts my head upward, forcing me to look into his severe and desperate gaze.

“You are queen of my heart,” he whispers in that damaged rasp. “Queen of my soul.”

He has grace enough not to say it. That first he left, then I left in retaliation. What are we but broken, damaged creatures?

“I miss you,” I breathe. Missed you. Was broken by you. Then broken again by another.

His eyes soften on me, his big tattooed thumbs stroking along my cheekbones. “I love you.”

My vision blurs as he presses his lips to mine. Eyelids fluttering shut, a lone tear escapes. Scythe pulls away to catch that tear with the brush of his tongue. I shiver under his mouth, clutching at his black shirt, fingers pressed against the hard muscle underneath.

“What have they done to you?” His breath tickles my face, warm and masculine. His silver hair is kissed by the light of the stars, shining even to my tear-filled vision.

Are you really here? AmIreally here? I dare not ask it out loud because the answer might rip me apart.

“What drew you here, Aurelia?”

My name. That is my name, spoken with love by a mate. I tear my gaze away from him before I collapse into his embrace and never let go. I turn in his arms, looking around at the forest that surrounds us. Tiny golden lights twinkle amongst the trees as if they are made by magic. Somewhere nearby, water bubbles—a sweet, delicate sound. It’s comforting to my empty ears. Carried on a gentle breeze are jasmine flowers and Scythe’s cold, tundra scent. Safety and love. That’s what I feel from here. As if the soil itself welcomes me. This can’t be arealplace?

“I can’t say what drew me here,” I reply. Changing the subject seems best. “This is beautiful. Did you make it for us?”

“I think we both did,” he says quietly. “Our subconsciouses merged, and we made something between us.”

“I love that.” We’d made something beautiful together, and it was just for us. My thoughts must have drifted to Scythe in that darkness. I stare wistfully around, feeling with more than just my body. A presence whispers through air; the padding of canine feet; the shake of a lion’s mane. “I feel the others here.”

Hand in hand, we wander through the forever twilight, my bare feet comforted by the mossy ground, my heart warmed by his hand squeezing my own.

The forest opens up into a grassy clearing, where the open moon is reflected upon the surface of a lake. I gasp in surprise at the small pavilion standing before us, a thing of stained glass and stone. We walk up to it, getting a better look at the figures standing beneath.

At the centre of the raised platform stands two grey stone statues, correct to the height. I hurry forwards in awe, touching their hands. Their faces. “I’m a terrible regina,” I whisper.

“They would never say that of you.”

“That makes it worse. You were right. About Xander…he is—” I swallow a sob. “He is lost to me.”

“You could never have prevented what he did. Savage and Lyle…and I, we are angry, but I think a part of us understands.”

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