Chapter 111: The Perfect Audience

Della did not like the sound of that, especially the sly tone that it came out with.

"And guess what? We are less than an hour away! We are actually gonna make it before the market closes!"

"Where is this... marketplace located at?"

"Oops!" Beatrice tsked, shaking her head, "That, I cannot tell you. I’ll leave you to figure it out yourself,"

"Are you planning to kill me there?"

"Kill," Beatrice repeated, "That’s such a strong word. Don’t you think?"

The audacity!

Della was beginning to tremble with the urge to rip off the she-devil’s nose.

"I’m merely taking you there to watch a little show unfold, that’s all," She shrugged again, like she was none the wiser.

Della leaned back against the carriage, but she could relax. She was vehemently panicking now, not grasping what was waiting for her after this carriage ride.

She didn’t know how long she’d been knocked out or how long they’d been travelling. They could be hours away from the Northern wilderness for all she knew, and Beatrice could have maybe stuffed poison down her throat while she was unconscious to kill her and her baby.

Slowly.

The headache was growing. She could feel the middle of her head pounding, and another terrible ache at the spot her head had crashed into wood back there.

She instinctively moved to press a hand over her stomach when the firmness reminded her that her hand was bound, prompting another sharp pain through her arm.

Della hissed and looked down at it.

Her wrist was swollen and had turned into a ghastly purple. And yet, the ropes were still digging into the injury mercilessly.

Della looked back up at her sister, whom was still smiling back at her. The look was seriously creeping her out, and making her question everything from the beginning again.

Has Beatrice’s smile always been this scary, or had Della just been blinded by her fake kindness all her life?!

"What?" Beatrice asked, "Is there something on my face?"

"Yes," Della murmured back, "Your face,"

Silence eventually settled into the carriage once again, and Della turned away from her sister, staring at the slightly opened carriage window to see if she could make out where they were from the little she could see.

Every now and then, she could feel Beatrice’s gaze settle down on her stomach, and Della’s eyes would snap back to her sister’s with rage.

Beatrice would quickly look up and flash Della another annoying, creepy grin that made Della feel like spiders were crawling up her skin, forcing her to look away again.

It happened about four times.

Della knew Beatrice was having thoughts about the pregnancy, and Della would be damned if she said she wanted to one whatever nasty curse the creepy woman was currently thinking.

She also felt like jabbing both her fingers into her eyes, but her wrist wasn’t cooperating with her.

Eventually, another dreadful moment arrived.

The carriage came to a halt.

Della felt her nerves spike, and she straightened up, looking between Beatrice and whatever footsteps were approaching the door of the carriage.

"Who’s that?" Della asked.

"An assassin!" Beatrice said.

"What?"

Beatrice chuckled, "Well, sister...,"

Della looked at her, horrified.

"It was nice knowing you," Beatrice said, then she returned the tape over her mouth, pressing it hard against her lips to silence Della.

The sack came next, and darkness greeted her once again.

"Oh, one more thing," Beatrice added, and Della could now tell that she was very close to her ear, "If you do meet your unborn child in heaven, or hell. Tell it its aunt says hi,"

All the colour drained from Della’s face.

She started to make muffled noises through the tape, but the door to the carriage was yanked open, and a little light spilled into the sack, but she still couldn’t make out a single thing outside.

She could only feel strong, cold arms gripping hers before she was pulled roughly out of the carriage.

The moment those cold hands closed around her arms, Della reacted. She twisted violently, trying to wrench herself free, "Mmph!"

The sack muffled the sound, turning her protest into something barely recognisable. One of the men tightened his grip, "Hold still!"

Della immediately kicked backwards, and her heel caught something solid, followed by a loud grunt.

Good.

She kicked again, but the other man caught her around the waist and stopped her before she could do it a third time.

Della thrashed harder.

She didn’t know who these men were. She didn’t know what Beatrice had arranged, and she certainly wasn’t going to make things easy for them.

Her bound hands strained uselessly behind her back as she twisted from side to side.

"Stop fighting!!"

Fuck you.

Della jerked her head backwards, and she felt the back of her skull collide with someone’s face. She didn’t care if the collision damaged her throbbing skull even more because the man’s grip had loosened.

Della immediately tried to pull away, but with her feet bound together, she couldn’t even take a step forward before she was caught again, "She’s feisty."

Della didn’t care. She twisted, shoved, and tried to throw her weight sideways, but her body wasn’t cooperating.

The pounding in her head had become unbearable, and every movement sent another sharp pulse through her skull.

Her vision felt strange despite the darkness surrounding her. Her thoughts weren’t connecting properly anymore, and she couldn’t seem to figure out which direction she was facing.

She couldn’t even tell where the carriage was.

"Get her moving." A voice commanded, and then she was being dragged forward again.

"No!" Her heels dug into the floor, and the word came out muffled beneath the tape.

She tried again anyway, and the men pulled harder.

She stumbled forward, and one of them caught her before she fell, only to drag her along more roughly.

Della’s breathing became frantic.

She remembered Beatrice’s words.

If you meet your unborn child in heaven or hell, tell it its aunt says hi.

They were headed to a marketplace.

The more she thought about what torture awaited her, the worse the headache became.

The world around her seemed distorted, and footsteps became muddled noises. Voices blurred together, and she could hear something in the distance, but she couldn’t tell whether it was people talking or simply the wind.

Then she heard something louder. The sound of rhythmic clatter.

Perhaps wheels.

Her bare feet touched something smoother beneath them.

Wood? Carved stone? She couldn’t tell.

She was dragged onward, and she fought once again.

She twisted sharply enough that one of the men nearly lost his grip, "Dammit! How the hell is she this strong without her wolf?" He grabbed her arm harder, and pain shot through her injured wrist.

"Just walk!" He barked again, yanking her forward.

Della glared blindly through the sack.

She wanted to bite him.

Scratch him.

Do something.

But her body was still betraying her.

Her head was pounding so badly that even standing felt difficult, and she stumbled forward again.

This time, she hit the floor on both knees.

She was about to pull back again when her surroundings changed.

The air.

There were scents now. Scents of many things that her human nose could inhale.

Too many.

Food.

Smoke.

Animals.

Sweat.

Something sweet.

Something spicy.

And many others.

Della’s brows furrowed, noticing that there were sounds too.

Someone shouted, and another voice answered. There was also laughter, and a bit of crying.

The men tugged her forward, and she resisted again, "Come on."

She could hear the noise all around her, and her heart began beating faster.

People.

There were people around them.

Lots of them.

Voices were overlapping, and someone even brushed against her shoulder as they passed. Then another. And another.

Della froze, waiting for some kind of reaction.

There was none. Whoever it was had simply continued down his way.

Had simply continued walking.

Della suddenly planted her feet, refusing to move. Her entire body trembled with the effort, and she heard one of them growl into her ears, "Stop making this difficult."

Della shook her head furiously.

She wasn’t going anywhere!

One of the men grabbed her more firmly around the arm while the other caught her shoulder. Together, they dragged her forward.

Della stumbled between them. She tried to pull away again, but there was simply no strength left in her.

Her injured wrist burned, her head throbbed, and her knees felt weak.

And the world around her was only getting louder.

So much louder.

She could hear vendors now, and people were bargaining. Lots of movement and hundreds of voices.

Della’s heart hammered.

What the hell is Beatrice planning?

She barely had time to wonder before both men stopped.

She heard movements behind her, and she reached over to kick when she felt the robe around her legs loosen.

She moved her heel quickly, landing a firm kick directly on his face.

"Bitch!"

Something sharp tore across her leg, and she seethed in pain.

Another hand reached toward her head, and then the sack and tape were pulled away.

Light suddenly pierced through the fabric, and Della squeezed her eyes shut. The rough material slid over her forehead, and her hair tugged painfully as it passed.

Seconds later, her eyes were wide open and just as she had expected, she was standing in the middle of a marketplace.

A very, very busy one!