Transformed [W&W Book 1]

Chapter 48

Minutes that stretched into millennia passed while Theresa sat tied to the chair trying fruitlessly to loosen her bonds. Tears she could not wipe kept streaming down her face.

Her head hurt and her heart hurt. She worried. Her extremities felt numb.

A sound like lightening hitting the castle and the resounding boom of thunder made Theresa jump.

She heard her own voice scream somewhere beyond the room where she was trapped.

The door flew open.

"Lady Theresa," Wildwood said as he rushed inside.

She was not sure how he did it, but the ropes holding her in place loosened, and she could move. Her hands and feet stung with the renewed blood flow.

"I thought you didn't know it was me," she said as she grabbed onto him with numb fingers.

"A warlock may not have, but I am a wizard. My apologies if my trickery distressed you." A confident half smile ran across his face.

She tried to smile back as she let him support her shaking form with his strength. "How did you know?"

Wildwood smiled wryly. "Well, she had dampened all traces of magic, but knocking out your aunt and tying her to a chair doesn't strike me as what you would do. Knocking her out, certainly, but I imagine you would have gone for help afterwards."

Theresa nodded at his words.

"But mostly, you have an unfortunate habit of not using proper titles when you're upset or angry or excited. Or most of the time really..."

Well, he was not wrong.

Theresa smiled shakily as he nearly carried her along with him. She could see Francine, still with the magic appearance of Theresa, lying beside a parapet in an awkward position.

"Come, we must hurry. She is only stunned. We must get to the king and let him finish this."

"Yes."

"After this night Francine will never get her hands on you again," he promised.

"Yes." She believed him.

Wildwood lurched forward and she stumbled with the loss of his support.

"Wildwood?" she asked in confusion.

He swore and he staggered a moment. His expression was strained, shocked. His face paled.

Theresa turned around in confusion and saw the scarred man standing behind Wildwood.

Theresa stared at the scene before her as if suspended in time. With growing horror she saw as he pulled a cruel knife out of Wildwood's back. Wildwood slid to the ground.

Wildwood looked up at her and she felt desperate. "Run," he told her in a raspy voice.

He wanted her to just leave him?

She wondered how she had any tears left after all the grief and suffering of her life, but she discovered that there were an infinite number left for Wildwood.

Blood was pooling around him already. She had to stop the bleeding somehow, but did not know what to do.

She knelt beside him uncaring that his blood was soaking into her dress. She did not want him to die. She did not want to live in a world where he did not exist. She loved everything about him.

Her aunt's dog stood by, with a satisfied smile on his mutilated face.

Theresa slowly rose and she stared at him. "You! You killed him! You killed Wildwood! You'll hang for this!" Theresa did not care that he had a knife; she would kill him with her own bare hands. She would scratch the other eye out of its socket with her human nails until they matched perfectly.