Dydra's eyes fluttered open, her lashes brushing against her cheeks as she squinted against the dim light. For a brief moment, she was disorientated, floating between sleep and wakefulness, until a sharp awareness settled in. The air was stale, heavy with the scent of old wood and metal. She shifted instinctively, meaning to stretch, but her body refused to cooperate. Confusion creased her brow. She tried again, and this time panic bloomed in her chest.
Her gaze dropped slowly, dread tightening her throat.
Silver chains wrapped around her torso and limbs, cold and unforgiving, binding her tightly to the narrow bed beneath her. Her heart skipped violently. Why was she bound? Who had done this? Her breath quickened as she scanned her surroundings, eyes darting across the wooden walls of what appeared to be a carriage. The familiar sight made her stomach drop. No. This couldn't be happening. Panic seeped into her veins as her gaze finally landed on a figure seated in the shadows.
"Such beauty."
The voice slid over her skin like poison. Lust-filled. Rotten. Familiar.
Her entire body trembled in revulsion. She knew that voice. She knew it far too well. Her thoughts spiraled wildly. How could she be back here? How could she be in this carriage again? Had she been dragged into the past, forced to relive the very thing that haunted her nights? The thought alone made her chest constrict painfully. No. She wouldn't let this happen again. She had escaped once. She would escape again.
She opened her mouth to scream.
Nothing came out.
Her heart slammed against her ribs as realization struck. Her voice was gone. Panic surged, hot and suffocating. The figure leaned forward, emerging from the shadows, and then pounced on her, his heavy frame pressing her down until the air was knocked from her lungs. Yellow, crooked teeth flashed before her eyes as his lips pulled back, fangs sliding into view.
No. No, no, no. Not again.
She screamed inside her head, her thoughts unraveling into terror. This couldn't be happening. She couldn't move. She couldn't scream. Her ocean-blue eyes locked with his blood-red ones as his hot breath ghosted over her cheek, down her jaw, lingering at her neck. Her entire body quivered as she braced herself for the bite.
But it never came.
Instead, something tightened around her throat.
Her eyes flew open, and this time the face above her wasn't the same man. Jerry's red eyes bore into hers, cold and merciless. Her heart seized painfully. No. This couldn't be happening either. The grip around her neck tightened, cutting off her air. She clawed weakly at his wrist, her vision blurring.
"Your kind needs to die."
His voice reached her ears as though from a great distance, thick with malice. Darkness crept into her vision, her lungs burned, and then everything faded.
She jolted awake with a sharp gasp, air rushing painfully into her lungs. Her hands flew to her neck as she whimpered, fingers brushing against tender skin. A dull ache throbbed beneath her touch, and she could feel faint lines where fingers had been. A frown settled on her face.
Another nightmare.
Her eyes swept around the room frantically until recognition brought a shaky breath of relief. The cottage. The small bed. The wooden walls. She was awake. But relief didn't last long. Her mind snapped back to the old witch. The warnings. The words she had spoken.
The nightmares won't stop.
Was this her doing? Had she done something to trap her here, to weaken her, to use her for rituals or spells? Fear crawled up her spine. She had to get out. Now.
Dydra sprang from the bed and rushed to the door, twisting the knob and stepping forward. Instead of the narrow passage outside, she found herself standing back inside the room. She froze, confusion knitting her brows. What just happened? She tried again, slower this time. The passage appeared, but the moment her foot crossed the threshold, she was back in the room.
Her breath hitched. She tried again. And again. Each time, the same result.
Realization struck hard. This wasn't an accident. This was magic.
Her heart raced as panic tightened its grip. She scanned the room desperately until her eyes landed on a small, cube-shaped window high on the wall. Hope flared. She rushed toward it, peering through, gauging the distance to the ground. It wasn't too far. She could manage it. Gripping the frame tightly, she hoisted herself up, squeezing through. Her head, shoulders, then the rest of her body slipped free. She shut her eyes, bracing herself for the impact.
Instead, she landed on wood.
Her eyes snapped open, irritation flooding her veins. She was back in the room.
A frustrated sound tore from her throat. She tried again. And again. Each attempt ended the same way. Finally, she staggered to the door and slammed her fist against it, pain shooting through her knuckles.
"Hello?" she called, her voice trembling. "Witch lady? Madam? Oryen?"
Only the echo of her own blows answered her. Panic surged fully now. She hit the door again, harder, her voice growing louder, more desperate.
"Oryen, please! Let me out! I take it back—anything I said! Please!"
Her strength drained quickly. She slid down the door, collapsing to her knees as tears spilled freely. Her forehead rested against the wood as her body shook with sobs.
"Hello?" Her voice cracked.
She wished this was just another nightmare. She wished she would wake up. She wanted everything—from the night she was dragged out of the house, to the moment her so-called foster father's hands closed around her throat—to vanish like smoke. She wished she had never stepped into that carriage. Never met the old woman. Never left her home.
She longed for her small room at the Thelmond mansion, for her quiet chores, for the rare peace she felt when Jerry wasn't home. She missed Agatha terribly—her laughter, her songs, the way she braided her hair while humming tunes her grandmother used to sing.
Her chest ached with longing.
Softly, almost unconsciously, she began to hum.
"The ocean tides push and pull,
The wind rustles the leaves coolly…"
Her voice wavered but continued.
"My love for you will fail to seize,
You are in my heart and I'm in yours…"
The song trailed off as tears blurred her vision. She turned, pressing her back against the door, drawing her knees to her chest. Wrapping her arms around herself, she sobbed quietly, like a child lost and afraid.
She missed her grandmother.
She missed Agatha.
She missed the life she no longer knew how to return to.