For a while, the carriage moved in silence as trees flashed past, the wheels clattering over stones and gravel, carrying the figures along a rough path and over bumps. Lucrezia stood straight, so straight she could hear her spine crack. Each bump jolted her bones, sending a shudder through the wooden frame and she clenched her jaw, fighting the instinct to reach for something, anything there is, to steady herself.
She barely had the time to recover when the wheels hit another cruel dip in the earth, and she almost bumped into him.
Her heart raced wildly against her chest and she balanced her fingers on her lap once more, maintaining her attention to the window.
Another hit, and she winced, though kept her expression impassive instead but the ache was persistent, even worse with every bounce of the carriage. She was too afraid that if she made a single sound, something worse might happen.
Just like yesterday. If only she hadn't intervened, perhaps he might have spared Madelyn. It was her fault for provoking the situation, and thr cost of it was the blood on her hands.
A bead of sweat clammed across her forehead and rolled down her temple and along the side of her cheek yet she dared not wipe it away. Dared not move.
Another formed at the spine of her back, soaking the thin layered fabric beneath the heavy cloak. Despite the sky having dulled to the color of lead and the breeze escaping into the carriage, it did more harm than good against the heat spreading fast like a disease into her veins.
It was at that moment that she realized she was averse to carriage rides. The last time it happened, he'd helped her… but instead of feeling appreciated, she felt terrified.
The carriage lurched as they left the manor grounds and the path narrowed into a road of jagged stone. Before long, frost began to creep along the glass, tracing thin veins across the windowpane.
Lucrezia watched in awe at the season. It was the first time she'd seen a land filled with so much snow. Her amazement managed to solicit her fear for a brief moment until a low howl rolled from the distant hills—neither wolf nor wind, reminding her of Madelyn.
A painful ache spread through her chest, and she clutched her skirt tight, trying so hard to stabilize her breath against the memories that threatened to haunt her sanity. But it was hard not to feel guilty, especially when the murderer who cold-bloodedly… slaughtered her friend, was someone she referred to as her husband.
As if in consent, the horses snorted uneasily and their hooves thudded harder as though to outrun the low howl and her fingers clenched against her knees.
The air inside the carriage grew colder with each mile, the kind that sank through cloak and bone alike. Lucrezia's breath fogged faintly, and she caught a glimpse of herself reflected in the glass; pale, wide-eyed, as though the mountain itself watched through her face.
He, across from her, remained unmoving through the violence of the road. His broad shoulder barely shifted or flinched, as his gloved hands rested on his knees and eyes focused carefully on the world outside.
As he was closer, the smell of old wood spice lingered in the air more than what she breathed. The way his posture remained relaxed against the brutality of the bad road struck her.
Before she could comprehend, the carriage lurched, one wheel catching a rock. Lucrezia's body pitched forward against gravity, and she embraced herself for the fall, only to be caught abruptly by his gloved hand.
His touch burned even through the layers of her fabric in a steady, strong, unyielding manner, causing her heart to race wildly against her chest. For a heartbeat, their eyes met, and her breath faltered.
She was instantly captivated by those beautiful hazel eyes ensnaring her deeply until she felt she'd stared more than enough, and like a serpent, she pulled away quickly before she even realized.
Lucrezia swallowed, murmuring something that might have been gratitude, though the word trembled in her throat.
It was supposed to feel unsettling but his touch burned her skin, so hot it felt like a dark brand. It felt wrong, certainly something she would never reckon herself to feel— even worse whenever very little of his actions seemed to evoke these emotions.
Something cold flickered in his eyes for a brief moment, making her heart race wildly. H-Had she offended him again?
He said nothing—thankfully— and the silence returned, heavier now.
Lucrezia returned her gaze to the window as her face heated in shame and dissatisfaction. The former made her question if it truly was the weather's effect against her skin or something else, and that thought sent a spider-webbed chill across her spine.
The wind sharpened as they climbed higher, dragging its cold fingers through every crack of the carriage. What began as sunlight had already paled into a gray shroud, and the road beneath them turned cruel—riddled with stones and sudden dips that jolted her body and mocked the balance of her soul.
How long would this ride take? She thought, already feeling the unsettling impulse to take off.
Lucrezia's breath misted faintly. Even with the heavy cloak drawn tight, the chill seeped through, threading itself into her bones. She'd never experienced this much cold in her entire life, and now that she did, her body trembled.
Thankfully, her gloves warmed her fingers, and her boots, more of fashion than sense, secured warmth to her cold feet. But her face was pale, her nose numb, and her cracked lips parted to draw air into her lungs.
Lucrezia drew her cloak closer, but the cold remained persistent. It was not merely the mountain air but the creeping sense that she was being led toward something vast, and old, and terribly indifferent to whether she trembled.
Another jolt rocked the carriage and her shoulder brushed his arm. Lucrezia flinched violently, as if she had touched burning fire.
From the corner of her eyes, she caught the tug of his mask and the muscles when his jaw ticked in an unsettling coldness making the space in the carriage seem even smaller.
She did not dare apologize this time. The first apology had already died unheard in the air between them, and so she pretended not to notice any flicker of reaction from the unwavering monster.
A long silence persisted between them, broken only by the groan of wood and the rhythm of hooves. Every time the wheels struck a hidden rut, she braced herself, swallowing the sound of discomfort. He did not so much as flinch. His stillness was a kind of defiance, or perhaps disdain.
Minutes passed, or perhaps hours. It was hard to tell when fear warped time into something thick and unyielding, taking her thoughts to yesterday's incident.
Lucrezia hadn't thought much about it due to the horror still fresh in her mind, and now she did, it chased itself, spiraling. Would he do it again? Would he do it to her?
The last question seemed very predictable and she stuttered a breath. The image struck again: Madelyn's blood hitting the ground with a sound she could still hear and her breath hitched. She pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle the sob rising like a scream in the pretense of coughing.
Tears burned her eyes and she tried as much as she could to prevent them from falling. She could not decide which terrified her more: the thought that the Devil might kill her…or that he might not need to.
They had been riding for hours nonstop, yet she felt the need to let exhaustion take a toll on her body. However, it wasn't the usual kind of exhaustion but
strange… and somehow familiar?
Her heart pounded as realization struck. She knew this feeling. It always came when she forgot— or skipped—her tonic.
And her eyes widened in alarm. How could she forget to take them?!
Before Lucrezia could process anything further, a sudden clash struck from behind: left to her, right to him, jerking their bodies in unison. It happened so fast she barely had time to draw a breath when the carriage swerved sharply, sending them staggering.
A small cry escaped her lips, but he reacted instantly, pulling her close to shield her from the impact. Lucrezia could barely comprehend what was happening as the chaos continued.
The road pitched downward suddenly, and the wheels skidded on ice. The carriage lurched so violently that she was thrown forward, but his hand caught her arm in a firm, unyielding grip, steadying her against the violent motion.
It was at that moment she realised they were no longer on the familiar path; they had deflected from the original alley into an unrecognizable, twisted route, and a terrifying awareness settled over her.
The horses shied violently, their hooves striking ice and stone, before tearing away from the carriage entirely. The vehicle lurched as if freed from gravity itself, pitching downward with a sickening slide.
Lucrezia's eyes squeezed shut as her entire body went rigid in fear, clinging onto the creature like her very survival depended on his strength.
The wind tore at their faces, whipping her hair around her like living tendrils, while the carriage rattled and twisted with its wheels threatening to break loose from the icy track. Every heartbeat felt magnified, each second stretching endlessly as the world blurred around her.
A sudden jolt threw her forward, then back, then sideways, and her hands dug into his coat instinctively. She had never felt this frightened before, and now her senses went numb, only impulsive by fear.
He held her firm, making his presence the only anchor in the chaos. The screech of metal against stone echoed in her ears, mingling with the terrified whinny of the horses fading behind them.
Oh Gods… she prayed, and a lone tear escaped her eyes, clinging even tighter.
And then, finally, the carriage skidded to a halt with a harsh, grinding stop that sent her chest colliding against his.
Though it stopped, Lucrezia couldn't stop trembling. Perhaps due to the unsettling silence or the darkness emanating a presence before her.
He didn't seem to move or stop her as she still clung deeper into him, nor did he move away. Instead, he let her cling, let her bury deeper. Seconds turned into minutes, and still Lucrezia refused to let go.
Finally, in a low and deliberate tone that cut through the tension, sending shivers straight to her core, "Little wolf," he murmured, and for the first time, a voice—not a sound— reached her ears. But this time, it was filled with so much desire that made her heart flutter in warning, "Keep clinging like that… and you'll leave me no choice but to bend you over, rip off your dress, and bury myself inside you."