Whose Bed Have Your Claws Been Under: Chapter 25

“Darrow,” I called after him, my heart crushed and my world falling apart. “Darrow!”

He didn’t turn back. No, he walked faster, breaking into a run when he reached the side of the castle, and disappearing around the corner.

“See?” Mom said, her grip tightening on my arm. “He’s running, which is much better than turning all of us to stone. We’ll quickly pack your things and get you out of here. I’m sorry you had to discover what a wretch he is, but perhaps it’s for the best.”

Dad shot me a solemn look. “He took advantage of your sweet ways, honey, but it’s over. We’ll take you where he’ll never find you again.”

“That’s why you moved away so fast, isn’t it?” I asked.

“Within a week after being rescued from the scientist’s lab, he’d solidified two poor souls, and we knew you’d be next,” Mom said. “How else could we protect you?”

My eyes stung with tears, and I tried to break free, but her fingers bit into my skin. Just like ten years ago, they’d make a choice for me without giving me a say. “You took me from him when he needed me more than anyone else.”

“Let’s not be dramatic,” Mom said. “You were sixteen, a child. You had no clue about life or about those who could cause you true harm.”

“He was changed, and that was it,” Dad said. “The Darrow you knew then died, and he was replaced with a silver monster who can kill with one glance. We had no choice. It was leave or let him turn that horrible gaze on you.”

“I wasn’t a child,” I said, peering toward the side of the castle, hoping he’d come back. “I loved him. I love him. And I’m going to go find him and tell him.”

I yanked away from Mom and took off down the path, flinging my arms out to keep from falling on the slippery walkway.

“Darrow,” I cried, whirling around the side of the building just in time to see him stepping inside the maze far up the hill.

He didn’t look my way.

I raced after him, wishing my boots had cleats, my feet skidding this way and that. Short of breath and my cheeks freezing, I finally reached the maze. I raced down the path on the right and turned at the corner, slowly making my way toward the center—or where I believed the center must be.

“Darrow,” I called, but he still didn’t reply. This reminded me of when he’d chased me, and I’d hid inside the maze. I was hurt, and I imagined he was now. “Darrow? Darrow! I’m not giving up. I told my parents off and as far as I know, they’re leaving. Without me. You hear that? Without me! I’m staying here even if that means I’ll freeze to death in the maze, though I hope you’ll find me and warm me back up. Jeez, where are you? Why won’t you speak with me?”

I came to a halt at a dead end and backtracked to an intersection, peering in both directions. Unsure which way to go, I looked up, trying to gauge where I was inside the maze. If I guessed correctly, the center was to my left—one or two rows of hedge away.

Well, if you couldn’t beat ‘em . . .

I climbed up onto a bench and launched myself up and over the row of hedges.

With a guttural cry, I flipped over.

The ground rushed toward me, and . . .