Chapter 14

I wake up to find some weird woman in full warrior cosplay tying me up.

“Okay, not to kink-shame or anything,” I mutter, “but I’m not really into the whole bondage-by-strangers thing. You mind untying me?”

She just gives me a weird look and continues securing the ropes like I’m not even here.

“Cool. Love the silent treatment,” I continue. “Just so you know, the longer you ignore me, the more annoying I get.”

She pauses for a half-second—like maybe she’s considering that I have a point. I’m about to claim victory when, out of nowhere, some chick in a frilly princess dress strolls up and punches me square in the face.

And just like that, lights out.

When I wake again, I’m being dragged.

Face-first. Along the ground.

Great.

 The sky’s spinning, and I feel every rock and bump scrape against my chest and stomach as they drag me face-first across the dirt like I’m their latest thrift store find.I twist my head and catch a glimpse of Emma—she’s standing upright, also tied up, her expression somewhere between “pissed off” and “done with this crap.” Not far behind her is the pixie woman from before, walking stiffly with her hands bound, too.

“Sister dearest,” I call out, my voice rasping through the dirt. “Any chance you could help a girl out before I become one with the forest floor?”

Emma grits her teeth and makes her way over, struggling to help me sit up without tripping in her own restraints. We both glare at the two women hauling us like sacks of potatoes.

“Listen,” I say, my tone extra cheery, “love the whole kidnapping aesthetic you’ve got going, really retro. But would it kill you to tell us where the hell we are?”

Pixie Lady joins in, politely demanding answers. Honestly, she sounds way more collected than I feel. I’m mostly just annoyed I got decked and dragged in the same hour.

The warrior woman finally speaks, her voice cool and clipped. “It’s our home.”

I squint ahead. The path we’re on leads up to a rocky island surrounded by dense waters, not floating or magical-looking—just remote as hell. There’s one narrow land bridge connecting it to wherever the hell we came from, and something tells me it’s the only way on or off.

We walk through what looks like a small, isolated settlement. People in strange clothing eye us as we pass—leather armor, braided hair, wooden huts, and major “we live off the grid and possibly worship tree gods” vibes.

“Man, you guys ever hear of electricity? Or indoor plumbing?” I mutter, glancing around. “This place screams Dark Ages, minus the plague. I hope.”

Before I get another snark in, Pixie Lady suddenly turns and knees her captor square in the stomach.

“Run!” she shouts.

I don’t need to be told twice.

I bolt like the ground’s on fire. No way am I sticking around to find out if these people plan on sacrificing me to some angry swamp deity.

But behind me, I hear a struggle—Pixie Lady’s on the ground now, completely out cold. Emma stops to help her, because of course she does. I skid to a halt, torn between survival instincts and being a decent sister. Ugh.

I sigh dramatically and run back. Because that’s what I do. I help the people who drive me crazy.

We don’t get far.

A pair of guards corner us, weapons drawn. One of the warrior women marches up, completely unfazed. Emma steps protectively over the pixie, glaring.

“What did you do?” she snaps at the woman, her voice like ice.

The woman doesn’t even blink. “Take them to the pit.”

“Oh, great,” I mutter as we’re marched toward what looks like a cave carved into the rocky side of the island. “If you guys sacrifice us to some sky god or angry volcano spirit, I’m totally haunting everyone here.”

“Not the time, Alex!” Emma hisses through gritted teeth.

We’re pushed into the cave. One of the guards yanks open a heavy wooden grate above us—like a trapdoor in the ceiling—then drops a rope ladder through. When we’re all inside, they yank the ladder back up and slam the grate shut.

“Seriously?” I shout. “What is it with you people and manhandling?!”

The pit is dim and damp, a little too horror-movie for my taste. Emma rushes to Mary Margaret—because apparently that’s Pixie Lady’s name now—and tries to wake her. She’s out cold. Like, “probably has a concussion” out cold.

That’s when I hear it.

A voice.

“Do you need some help?”

Nope. Nope nope nope.

I back away fast, practically climbing the cave wall with my heels. “Okay, I’ve seen this movie. Creepy voice in the shadows offers help, next thing you know, bam, you’re a ghost.”

A figure steps forward—female, elegant, with a smooth voice that immediately feels wrong. Like the kind of wrong that wears perfume and smiles while stabbing people.

“I assure you,” she says, “I only wish to help.”

Emma steps between her and Mary Margaret, skeptical but curious. “Who are you?”

The woman smiles, eyes lingering on Mary Margaret like she’s already planning something sinister.

“I’m Cora,” she says softly.

And just like that, I know we’re screwed.

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Apologies for the late update readers I’ll try to have a proper schedule for the chapters 🙂