Page 79 of XV (Fifteen) (War of Roses 1)

He would never scar me publicly so that the world knew his claim.

But for what reason?

Paranoia keeps me awake. I twist Sergei’s necklace around my fingers until something makes me creep toward the vanity and place the chain against my throat. It settles there uncomfortably, like a missing piece I’d never realized was gone. My hands shake as I fasten the clasp and let the rose charm hang against my collar.

It’s as if the charm is magic. My resemblance to Briar is all but gone. I look more like another person now than ever. Minus my scars, we could be the same haunted woman.

Marnie.

Trapped in Sergei’s grasp, did she huddle in her prison and wait for the end of her nightmare? Of course she did.

But I can’t. I won’t.

For once, my mantra feels meaningless.Breathe, Ellen.But for what? To stay alive at Mischa’s demand? To follow even further in Marnie’s footsteps?

To die alone.

To live in a cage.

To remain a selfish, captive bird.

I can’t.

So Istopbreathing and hold my breath as I creep to the door and press my ear to the wood. It’s silent, but something won’t let me grasp the handle. Mischa isn’t foolish. I’m sure he has his men watching the doors, just in case.

So I turn to the windows and shrug aside the heavy drapes shrouding them. I didn’t notice before exactly where this room is positioned. Below stretches a wide field, and ivy creeps up a stone façade. The rusted latch squeals as I test one of the panes, but they open smoothly only to present a stark reality. Over a full story off the ground, I either have to jump or climb.

Shadows shroud the type of surface waiting down below. Stone? Earth? The more I contemplate my options, the more escape feels like a cruel whim than an attainable reality. Tears prickle behind my eyes. It’s no use.

Or is it?

I find myself observing the ivy again and brush the tip of a plant with my fingers. It’s rooted firmly to something I didn’t notice before: an iron lattice strong enough to support my weight. Or at least I hope as much as I climb onto the sill and brace one of my feet in the gaps. Tentatively, I sink down and nearly sigh in relief as the support holds.

Without stopping to acknowledge the consequences, I guide myself lower, clinging to whatever part of the lattice I can reach. I’m slow. Too slow. Noises of the night echo, but it’s impossible to decipher if they belong to woodland creatures or Mischa’s men.

But there’s no turning back now.

I keep going, forcing myself to climb until my bare foot brushes what feels like packed earth. Up above my window glows, a beacon in the darkness. How long until Mischa comes for me? Minutes? Seconds?

There isn’t time to plan. I set my sights on a copse of trees in the distance and run. An icy wind nips at my skin and tears at my hair. It’s like the earth itself is cackling at my futile attempts.He’ll find you, Ellen. He’ll find you.

Deep down, I think a part of me knows that. I keep running anyway, letting my surging pulse spur me on. Branches and dried leaves crunch underfoot. It’s bitterly cold, and my breaths paint the air in tufts of white.

But I keep running.

Defying.

Breaking…

Sergei’s necklace hammers my chest with every sprint, and I can’t get his face out of my head. Hers. Did she resist him? Fight him? Hate him?

Was he the reason she was burdened with me?

Suddenly, the ground changes beneath my feet. My heel slips over a slick patch of mud and I trip, landing on my knees, tasting dirt. It’s so silent here. Too silent. All I hear are my own frantic breaths and… Noise?

Faint. Rapid.Footsteps, heading right for me.

Gasping, I scramble to my feet, knowing in my soul that it’s no use. He’s too fast, crashing through the trees near my right. I can’t get my bearings. The air changes. Shadows shift underfoot.

---