stolen by a wolf saved by fate

Bound in thorns

Elira

The forest was no longer a place of beauty.

It felt like a cage of shadows.

My hands were tied tightly with rope that reeked of iron and blood in front of me and the other side of rope was held by the man. Branches clawed at my arms as he dragged me forward. My legs stumbled over rocks, roots, anything that tried to help my escape. My wrists were raw, from the rough way he was pulling me. There are two other girls bound in the similar way . They are dragged by two other men . Nobody has uttered a single word which only makes the jungle around us feel more domineering.

I didn’t know what was happening and where these people were taking me. When the man captured me it was the beginning of day. Aunt Marven had went on her weekly visit outside of the cottage to restock our supplies. Now the evening’s darkness had been prevailing. We have been walking since the morning.

The man who seemed like the leader of those two other men and had taken me glanced back at me with that same twisted smile he’d given me before — like I was a thing he’d won, not a person he’d stolen. His eyes were too sharp. Too focused. Like he was watching a dream unfold.

Suddenly he stepped back and came straight to me, watching me with those amber eyes. His hand flew out and tucked the lock of my hair that had fallen from my braid behind my ear, with the gentleness of a lover and not the person who had kidnapped me.

“You’re different,” he murmured again, low enough for only her to hear. “The others are just bodies. But you—”

He reached out and traced a clawed finger along my jaw.

“—you’re meant for something else.”

I flinched away, fury flaring in my chest.

“Don’t touch me.” I seethed under my breath.

He only chuckled. “You’ll feel it soon when we’ll return. I always get what I want.”

With those confusing words he turned and again started the journey to God knows where.

It was dark all around us as the night had descended. Time lost meaning. The girls had been walking for hours, maybe longer. The man said nothing about where they were going, only that they were “returning.”

Returning to what?

It felt like the forest had been thinning out . We stopped in front of a long wall of greenery . My kidnapper stepped forward and pulled a long falling root creating a way to walk. My lips parted, bemused by the action. He passed through it, dragging me along with him. I stumbled but caught myself at the last moment. One of the branches screwed my arm. I swallowed down my scream, I didn’t want to give my kidnapper the satisfaction of seeing me in pain.

My breath caught when I saw around me and my gaze fell on it: a strange mark carved into a tree — a symbol made of crescents and claw slashes. I didn’t know what it meant, but my blood turned to ice. We crossed that tree when my kidnapper tensed.

He sniffed the air.

And then he cursed.

“What the hell is he doing here?” he growled.