In the unknown depths of the night, Neva lies awake, staring at the grey walls of the bright room, afraid to turn off the lights.
After some time had passed since Ishmael left, she had calmed down enough to rack her mind for a way out of this place. She doesn't even know where it is or how far she's from home. If she's still in Vernellia, and how many hours she had been unconscious for.
Peering through the floor-to-ceiling window that opens onto a balcony of a mansion carved into a rocky mountain, the pale moon revealed nothing but forest, endless forest, swallowed in thick white fog.
Surveying the room and the closet, she found his belongings, which meant it was his room, and the duvet had the scent of musk and spice clinging to it.
Her chin trembles as tears burn anew, and she feels so pathetic, helpless, and lonely.
She found nothing useful that could aid her in reaching out to Rhett or escaping, and the door was locked from the outside,
therefore she did the same from the inside.
Oh, Rhett... Rhett...
A numbing agony rips through her as she realises she might never see him again, and her Father is so silent.
Tears wet her cheeks again for she can't feel Him, she can't feel Him anymore.
A horrible, rotten feeling creeps through her when someone slips in through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
"Angel." Worry, relief, and love flickers across his face.
He carefully steps toward her, as though afraid he's approaching a startled doe.
"Are you alright?"
She wonders if she's dreaming, but reaches forward anyway, for she has always believed in miracles, has seen them, and experienced them many herself.
A familiar, gentle presence within her soul reassures her, and before she knows it, overwhelmed by the Lord's fierce love for her, she's sobbing loudly against him, his strong arms wrapping tightly around her.
"It's alright, Angel." He presses a kiss to her hair. "I'm here. You're safe."
"Is it you? Is it really you?"
"Yes, it's me, Angel," he reassures.
Her fists tighten around his jacket, soaking the fabric with her tears, too frightened to believe he isn't only a hallucination. No, he's real.
Very real, because they serve a living God, and nothing in this world, no evil power, no lethal weapon, no mighty storm of the winter, can destroy them.
He kisses the crown of her head. "Are you hurt?"
She shakes her head against him.
"We need to leave," he says, and when she doesn't pull away, he gently lifts her into his arms.
He carries her toward the open windows, and she shivers as the frosty wind lashes against her like needles.
Lowering her to the floor, he gives a firm tug at something before she realises it's a black rope.
He fastens a harness around his waist, the rope running through it before it vanishes below, swallowed by the unseen edge of the roof.
Her gaze drifts around the woods and back toward the room, flinching at the sound of a dog barking as she jumps against him.
"Climb on my back," he says, and she immediately obeys.
Her arms wind around his neck, clinging to him as his hands anchor her securely against him.
"Hold tight." His steady voice cuts through the rush of wind before a metallic click breaks through.
Terrified to look below at the dark, unknown void, she presses her face against the curve of his shoulder.
Trusting him. Trusting him with her life.
A barely restrained scream steals her breath at the sharp, sickening lurch as they plunge downward.
The rope hums faintly under his control as she clings desperately to his solid warmth, the frosty wind tearing at her hair and biting through her sweater.
Then the descent slows, boots scraping against rough stone as he pushes off the cliff face.
He guides them lower, deeper into the fog, where the mansion above dissolves into a distant silhouette.
A dog barks in the distance, followed by a shout slicing through the night.
Her body stiffens as he stills for half a second before moving faster, controlled, but faster.
The rope slides with renewed speed, the wind roaring in her ears as she prays, prays in a frenzy.
The shouts grow louder, and panic rattles through her bones as she looks below, the ground beginning to take shape beneath them: dark earth,
the shadowed outline of trees waiting below.
She barely stifles a yelp at the final drop, his boots hitting the ground with a solid thud, his knees absorbing the impact of landing.
A bit more clear-headed, she has the sensation of sliding off him, her socked feet scraping over jagged stones and wet mud.
He unclips the harness, seizing her hand and pulling her toward the shadow of the trees, occasionally broken by moonlight filtering through the fissures in the leaves.
At the swelling barks of the hounds and the flashes of torchlight,
they break into a run, twigs and vines grazing against her hair and arms with barely registered stings.
Her heart thrums loudly against her ribs as she struggles to keep pace with him.
Blinded by the darkness, she stumbles against a rock, but he catches her before she can fall.
"We're almost there," he assures her, sweeping her off her feet and carrying her through the forest.
Her eyes close as she leans against his chest, his heart thrumming fast beneath her palm as a stretch of asphalt road opens before them.
She flinches hard at the crack of gunfire coming from the mansion.
His black Ducati Monster is parked at the edge of the woods, and she wonders how he can remain so calm and unyielding.
Hoisting her onto the back seat, he puts the helmet over her head and straps it on.
A small smile curls at his lips as he brushes a thumb against her cheekbone before pulling down the windshield.
Swinging onto the bike, he straps on his helmet. "Hold on to me."
Wrapping her arms around him,
she presses herself against his back as a distant rumble of a car rips through the forest.
Her teeth chatter before the engine roars to life, and they surge forward through the darkness. Even as the wind lashes like invisible whips, warmth spreads within her, for she fears no shadow of a nightmare anymore, comforted by the ember and forest fire that is her fiancé, brought to her by her loving Father.