Soren screamed. The guttural sound shook the dust from the bookshelves as tears screamed hot down her face. He is a dead man!
She swiveled her head around, looking for anything she could use as a weapon. She threw the chain over her head, the ring lifeless and cold against her chest, then ran to the piano. With one swift kick, she broke the lip prop loose and charged at Rook.
He was already walking in her direction, trying to say something about how it wasn’t what it looked like, but she couldn’t hear over the blood filling her ears.
“How could you?” The sound tore from her throat, more animal than human. The active volcano of rage exploded, releasing itself from her body. “I confided in you!”
She swung the wooden rod, and he blocked it with his forearm, grunting as she swung again, taking out his legs. He landed with a thump on the hardwood floor, gasping for air when the wind withdrew from his lungs.
“I should have known all along. It was just a game, wasn’t it?” she shrieked, cracking the shaft against the floor again and again. Rook rolled out of the way as the force of her blows rang off the walls.
“It wasn’t like that.”
“You murderer!” she screamed as she sloughed off the wooden outer layer that had cracked from the force to reveal a metal core. She hunted after him, ready to continue the assault. Father killer!
He moved out of the way just in time for the rod to thud into the heavy armchair.
“Soren, listen.”
“I’m done listening to you! You are poison. You deserve every punishment your father ever gave you.”
He stepped back, the words hitting him harder than any strike she could ever dole out.
“I can see now there is no coming back from this.” He kneeled before her, his arms out, defeated. “I am sorry, little bird.”
She stood before him, her chest constricting as she readied her swing. The metal cut through the air and sunk until the floor inches from Rook’s face.
He looked up at her, his eyes wide, his chest heaving.
“You do not deserve a quick death,” she spat the words in his face. “You are not some tortured animal. You are your father’s beast, raised only to cause harm. I will let him have you, and when I return, I will put you down myself.” With that, she left.
Soren ran out the main door, clawing at her throat as the noose of grief tightened. Her heart shattered. The shards of betrayal stabbed and tore at her insides until all that was left was a shell, broken and bleeding. I trusted him.
She ran blindly down the road, toward the main gate, screaming in frustration when she found it locked, the cold of the metal stinging her hands.
The kestrels were circling, watching the events unfold.
She ran around the side of the house and down the path of the courtyard, the tree branches cutting into her pink flesh and leaving behind trails of red. I let him put his hands on me.
A wave of nausea filled her, but it was quickly replaced by the frenzy of red that invaded her vision. She kept running through the haze, her body hot with rage amongst the winter landscape.
Logically, she knew she couldn’t survive out here for long, but she would rather die out here than be in that house for a moment longer.
You should have killed him, her mind shot at her.
She had wanted to. Maker knew she wanted to. But when he had kneeled before her, she couldn’t finish it. She needed time to think. Her mind was a warzone, and coherent thought was nonexistent.
She crossed the bridge and edged her way down to the water, taking a tentative step onto its clear surface. When it held fast, she continued, thankful that she at least had her house slippers on.
She wiped the tears from her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself as she walked on. If she could just reach the base of the mountain, she could make a fire and figure out her next move.
She gave up yelling to conserve her energy, but rage boiled hot in her veins. How could I have been so stupid? The nausea had returned, and she got sick on the ice, her stomach heaving any semblance of nourishment from her body. You let his pretty face blind you. You let him in. You left yourself vulnerable. Now look at you. She kept coughing, her stomach muscles flexing painfully. You cared for him.
The final thought was her undoing, and the panic took hold. She did not know how she had any tears left, but still, they came. Her chest ached, and she struggled to catch her breath.
A boom in the distance shook the ground beneath her, and her eyes turned to saucers. She scanned the ice for any fissures and sighed in relief that they had held. Then she looked around, trying to gauge where the sound had come from. There.
A wave of snow was falling from one of the peaks, heading east.
Deeming the crossing was still safe, she continued until another boom stopped her in her tracks. She looked on in horror as a part of the wave broke off, heading in her direction.
She froze in terror as she watched the wall of snow come down and crash along the lake’s far edge. There was a deafening crack as the ice split, and a whimper escaped her lips as she turned back toward the manor.
She struggled to keep upright as the fabric of her shoes slid on the blue sheet of ice, her lungs resisting the cold air she tried to inhale. She cried out as the fissures got closer, reminding her of the kestrels’ taloned fingers.
She jumped over the smaller cracks, her body swaying awkwardly as she danced with death. She had almost made it back to shore when a large gap appeared in front of her, forcing her to change her course.
As she turned, a chunk of ice reared up as she stepped on it, causing her to lose her balance. She fell onto her backside, head whipping in all directions, looking for an escape route.
She went to stand, but the ice below her shifted and cracked, so she remained on her hands and knees, trying to redistribute her weight.
She crawled toward the other side of the shore, taking her time not to disturb the ice, when a creature landed on the edge of the water in front of her. The kestrel’s hollowed eyes were filled with what she guessed was humor.
“Stupid girl,” it said.
“Fuck you!” she yelled as she gave it the finger.
The movement caused her other hand to slide out from under her, and she slipped, her face smacking into the frozen surface and making her see stars.
She looked up to see the unnamed kestrel put pressure on the ice in front of it, the ground fracturing as it flashed its sharp teeth.
“No!” she cried as the surface began to split open.
The cracks split off in all directions, cutting off any hope of escape. She could see the blue-black water roiling below, waiting to swallow her.
“Soren!”
Across the ice, she could see the body of the kestrel twitching on the ground, its head laying a few feet away. Its black blood leaked into the water, darkening it further.
Rook stood beside the body of water, a knife in his hand. Soren could faintly see something dark dripping from it. He opened his mouth to say something, but before the words could reach her, she fell into the icy depths.
She tried to swim up to an opening, but a current was pulling her under. She banged against the underside of the glassy surface as ice filled her veins and her brain became fuzzy. Her limbs went numb as she fought the current.
She looked up through the ice to see wings overhead as her body went limp and she waited for the end. The last thing she saw before death took her was a flash of white with glacier eyes.