Chapter 109: Taken
"We need to leave."
"Leave?" Willow asked.
She looked toward the window. It was dark and she hated the dark.
"Now?" she turned back to the man.
"Unless you are willing to remain here and let your father find you," he said, "I suggest we go now."
"I would need to return to my room to pack my things."
"Too dangerous." He shook his head. "Your father could have men camped there, waiting for you unless you are willing to take that risk."
She thought about it. He was right, she could not risk it.
"Why are we in such a hurry?" she asked instead.
"Plans changed." He answered vaguely. "We leave now but I need to get something first. I will be back in thirty minutes and I want you to be ready when I return. Is that understood?"
Willow nodded as she watched him leave.
She looked around the room which she had been in since the night he rescued her from her father’s study.
It only housed a bed which he let her use, a table and a chair, nothing else. She still could not understand how they had not been discovered. Surely, her father would be searching everywhere for her.
It had been two days.
Well, if she had thirty minutes then she would have to use it wisely.
She crossed to the table and yanked open the drawer. There, she found a pen and a scrap of paper that had yellowed at the edges. She sat down and began to write fast.
She finished the letter, folded it twice and pressed the crease flat with her thumb then she searched the room for something to hide her face with.
She found a coat hanging from the door.
She put it on, raised the hood over her head and slipped out into the corridor.
She realized as she stepped outside that she was in the servant’s quarters. Of course he would hide her there, it was far from the main house and no one would come to look here for them.
But to reach the main house which she was aiming for, she would need to cross the courtyard where anyone might see her.
No, she had to figure out another way to deliver the letter.
As if the moon goddess herself was on her side, Willow sighted a maid. She was working in the dead of the night by the well, scrubbing some clothes.
She looked up as Willow approached her.
"I need you to deliver this for me." Willow held out the letter. "I will reward you as soon as it is done."
The maid hesitated, staring suspiciously at her.
Willow sighed and reached for the golden hair pin on her hair, handing it over to the girl.
"There is more where that came from if and only if you deliver this letter."
The girl’s eyes widened in glee as she accepted the pin and the letter.
"Whom do I deliver it to?" she asked.
"Slip it under Prince Ares’ door then return here for the rest of your reward."
The maid took the letter and hurried toward the main house.
Willow waited, tapping her foot against the stone, counting the minutes.
She thought of the chaos the letter would cause and how much a shame it would be that she would not be here to watch it.
The maid soon returned, breathless.
Willow pulled off her rings and her necklace then pressed them into the girl’s palms.
"If you sell these," Willow said, "they will be worth more than you earn in a year." She leaned in close. "Keep your mouth shut about seeing me and about what you did for me and we would have no problem. Do you understand?"
The maid nodded, her eyes fixed on the gold in her hands.
Willow pulled the coat tight and walked back to the stranger’s room. She shut the door behind her and she waited.
...
Ayla lay curled on her bed. She had cried herself to sleep but now that she was awake, the ache in her chest had returned, lodging itself beneath her ribs.
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to push it down.
A soft knock at the door, jolted her from her misery.
Astrid, she thought. It had to be her again coming to check up on her like she had done earlier.
The Alpha had relieved the guards from her door so she guessed she was free to have visitors now.
She had expected her mother would come, if nothing, to explain how and what was going on.
She scoffed, listening to the knock but did not answer. She did not want to see anyone.
The door knob began to turn however and Ayla sat up.
"I do not want to see anyone..."
The words died in her throat when a masked stranger walked into her room.
She recognized him immediately as the man whom her father... Soren had been talking to in the hallway.
They had the same eyes.
"Who are you?" she whispered.
He said nothing, only came toward her.
Ayla scrambled off the bed, her eyes sweeping the room for a means of escape but she saw nothing.
She backed up until her spine met the wall.
"Who are you?" she tried again.
The man rounded on her and before she could scream, his hand clamped over her mouth cutting her off.
She struggled, kicked and even bit down on his palm but that did not matter.
He hit her over the head, effectively cutting off her struggle. The last thing she remembered was those glittering gray eyes, staring down at her, unblinking, as the world tilted and slid into black.
...
The door opened and Willow rose to her feet.
"I am ready," she said.
She looked at the man. He had a sack slung over his shoulder.
"What is that?" she asked.
"None of your business." He did not look at her. "Let’s go."
He led her out through the servants’ quarters, past the well, across the courtyard she had crossed alone not an hour before. The night had gone colder and the moon was high up in the sky.
Willow thought fleetingly about how beautiful it was.
A full moon.
They got to the stable yard and he led her around the back where a cart waited in the shadows.
He swung the sack off his shoulder int the cart where it landed with a thud.
"Climb in," he gestured to Willow, already mounting the horse.
She did as he instructed.
The sack lay beside her, and she told herself she did not want to know what was inside it. It was most probably supplies for their journey ahead.
The man set the horse on a full gallop straight for the front gates.
Willow was about to tell him there will be guards for sure and they will be stopped but the words died in her throat when she saw the front gates swinging wide open.
There were no guards because they were already dead.
Willow cast a look at the stranger’s back refusing to acknowledge the niggling feeling at the back of her mind that this man... whoever he was was not her friend.