Katherine's Legacy
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Nicole Riddley
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1.3M
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80
Chapter 1: Desperately Seeking Solace
I’ve never wandered this deep into the forest before. The sun is already dipping low, but my feet keep pulling me further, as if I’m running from the devil himself. I can’t seem to stop.
There’s this nagging urge to escape from everything. From home. From life. The woods usually offer me some peace, but not today. Not recently.
The eerie caws of the crows echo through the forest, louder than the rustling leaves and the groaning of the tree branches. It’s like a warning for me to stop.
It reminds me that when the sun sets, I’ll be lost in these woods if I don’t turn back now. I’ll be cold and alone.
I let my steps slow, and then they halt completely as I take in my gloomy surroundings. The vibrant fall colors are gone, and the leaves are now mostly decaying on the ground.
Tall trees tower all around me.
Their bare branches eerily resemble dry human skeletons: bone-white limbs and thin, skeletal fingers reaching out to ensnare unsuspecting souls within their deadly, bony grasp.
I realize that something isn’t right.
A stream cuts through our property that marks the start of an overgrown field. Why haven’t I come across the stream yet? Surely, I’ve walked far enough.
My senses sharpen, and a sudden sense of caution washes over me as I get the feeling of being watched. The skin on my back and arms prickles with goosebumps.
A twig snaps, making me jump.
“Who’s there?”
Another snap, and I spin around.
“Hello?”
There are more sounds of snapping twigs before a lean, tall figure steps out from behind the trees.
The darkest green eyes framed by a fringe of black lashes on a proud, aristocratic face regard me coolly. I recognize him. Elias Gauthier.
We may attend the same school, but we don’t move in the same circles. This is probably the first time I’ve been this close to him.
I take a moment to really look at him. Tall, broad shoulders. Thick, dark, unruly curls that can only be described as sex hair brush his collar. High cheekbones above a sharp jawline.
I know he’s handsome, but I’ve never really noticed him. Until now.
Now we study each other as if we’re sizing up an unknown entity. Friend or foe. At least that’s what it feels like to me.
His arrogant expression, the tilt of his dark eyebrows, the way his piercing eyes skim over me with disdain before settling on my face . . .
It seems as though he already made up his mind about me a long time ago.
“What are you doing here?” I ask when I finally find my voice.
He flashes me a smile full of the whitest, straightest teeth. If a smile can be described as ice-cold, his is it. Even so, he’s undeniably striking.
“I should be asking you that question, Duchess. You’re trespassing on private property. My property.”
Am I really on his property now? I don’t usually come anywhere near the Gauthier’s property. Both our properties are large enough that most of the time I kinda forget we share a border.
This is definitely the first time I’ve run into someone in these woods.
More footsteps approach, and I turn my gaze toward three more newcomers. Surprise colors the faces of the other two when they see me. I recognize them too. Tyler Erikson and Justin Feron.
“Well, well, well . . . look who’s decided to grace us with her presence.” Ronan Gauthier, Elias’s twin brother, steps up to stand beside him.
“Katherine Blackwell. What an honor and a pleasant surprise.” From his tone, it doesn’t sound like it’s a pleasant surprise at all.
Actually, neither of the Gauthier boys seem surprised or pleased to see me.
I always thought Elias and Ronan looked identical. But now that I’m paying attention, I can see they’re not. Sure, they look a lot alike, but Elias’s face is narrower.
Ronan keeps his hair shorter too. Both of them look effortlessly elegant even in these surroundings.
Somewhere beyond these acres of woods, I imagine their sprawling mansion.
In fall and winter when the trees are bare, I get a glimpse of their roof and a little of the house from the third floor of our estate.
“Hi, Cat,” says one of their friends. Tyler seems glad to see me. At least there is one friendly face. I think I’ve talked to Tyler once or twice.
“What are you doing out here in the woods?” he asks me. He seems genuinely curious.
I bite my lower lip as I steer my eyes toward the endless trees around me—mostly to avoid Elias’s relentless piercing gaze. I release my lip when I become conscious of what I’m doing.
These boys are making me feel flustered. Or maybe it’s just Elias. Boys don’t usually make me feel flustered.
“I was just going for a walk. I didn’t realize how far I’d walked . . . or that I’d stepped onto someone else’s property.”
“You don’t just have one foot in our property, sweetheart. You’re all the way in,” says Elias. He says “sweetheart” mockingly, like an insult. The same way he called me “Duchess.”
“You don’t have to worry about that—I’m leaving!” I tell him, taking a step back. “Sorry for stepping foot . . . or rather, feet, on your property.” I make sure he knows I’m not sorry at all.
He’s still smirking, but his eyes glitter dangerously at the sound of contempt in my voice.
“It’s getting dark. We can’t let her walk home in the woods by herself,” Tyler says, stepping closer to me. I suddenly notice he’s carrying a rifle. All of them are carrying rifles.
Are they out hunting, or are they just practicing?
“Sure we can. She walked here by herself, she can walk home by herself,” says Elias cuttingly. His smile disappeared as soon as Tyler came to my aid.
“If you’re not taking her home, then I will,” says Tyler.
“No, you’re not!” barks Elias.
What a jerk! Not that I need to be saved like some damsel in distress. I’m Katherine Blackwell. I don’t play the damsel in distress, and I’m done with jerks.
Elias steps between me and Tyler. He looks ready to take on anyone who crosses him, and Tyler seems torn.
“She’s a Blackwell woman. She probably has a broom to ride,” Ronan says with a smirk.
Is he implying I’m a witch now?
Tyler nudges Ronan. “What’s up, man? You guys aren’t usually this harsh with a girl.”
“Usually, they don’t want to mess up their chances of getting laid,” Justin jokes, laughing like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. No one else joins in.
Justin is known for being unpredictable: wealthy, spoiled, and reckless. That pretty much sums up all of them.
“So what? She’s hot. You really don’t want to get with her?” he asks Ronan.
Elias has been watching me the whole time. His dark eyes are so intense, almost as if he despises me.
His strong jaw is set, and there’s a muscle twitching in his cheek like he’s grinding his teeth.
“I’d love to . . . but she’s for Elias,” Ronan says, smirking.
“No, she’s not,” Elias retorts. “She’s nothing to me.”
Tears sting my eyes. “Assholes,” I mutter, turning quickly and walking away. I can’t stand their crudeness, and I don’t get what Ronan meant by saying I’m for Elias.
But Elias’s attitude and words hurt... and I don’t understand why anything he said or did would affect me. Elias doesn’t mean anything to me. None of them do.
Before I give myself away and show them my feelings—or worse, my tears—I need to get away from them. Maybe a whole continent away. If only that were possible.
“Oh, so you don’t mind if I hit that?” I hear Justin’s annoying voice behind me.
“Dude, shut up!” Ronan snaps.
“Come on, let’s get you home.” I can’t tell if it’s Ronan or Elias who says that, and I don’t care.
“Go to hell,” I snap back, continuing to walk away.
I hear someone chuckle behind me. They definitely heard me.
I don’t know where I’m going since I’m not familiar with this part of the woods, but I’m not sticking around to take any more of their insults.
I’d rather crawl through these woods in the pitch black than put myself at their mercy or owe them anything.
“You’re going the wrong way, Duchess. Home is that way.”
I didn’t hear him move, but Elias is right next to me now. I can feel the heat of his body against mine in the cool fall evening.
His deep voice washes over me like silk, sending shivers down my spine.
Ugh! I despise him. I want to wipe that icy look out of his eyes and that smug smile off his handsome face.
I follow his direction, but I don’t stop or even look at him to say thank you. I just keep walking.
