Rosalind paced her room. She heard the clatter of breakfast dishes and Jacob hurrying up the stairs in his usual leaping-two-steps-at-a-time way.

Knuckles tapped a staccato beat on the door. "Father told me to fetch you," Jacob's voice was a muffle behind the closed door.

Rosalind stopped pacing and glared at the door. "I do not want to be fetched. Leave me be."

When Jacob knocked again, Rosalind snapped, "I already had an apple and some tea before you all woke. I will not be taking breakfast with you."

"Do you not desire cinnamon bread and raisin cakes? Rue made them especially for you."

"Rue can barely boil an egg," she grunted as she walked to her looking glass. Placing her hands on either side, she regarded herself before leaning her forehead against the mirror.

"Sister?"

"No, brother."

She did not desire food. She desired to come undone—her lover's touch, his fingers tracing maps on her skin to places he had seen over and over, places he tried to claim. Once she had them both, now Troy was all that was left. No matter how many times she fucked him, she still could not place him above Caspian.

She touched her cheeks, her mouth, her neck. Yet Rosalind dreamed of his fingertips. His lips. His hands. Everywhere. Creating flames. Wildfires. Infernos.

Everything burned.

She had fallen in love with Lord Caspian and in return, he left his mark. The wounds inside were an echo of their dangerous love. Even though he had not been Rosalind's first lover, he was her deepest desire. The invisible stains on Rosalind's skin were a reminder that she could never wash herself clean of him.

Clean. She did not want to be clean.

Where Troy was the sweetest symphony attempting to ease her mind, Caspian was a tempest uprooting forests and pulling waves from their sacred shores.

Rosalind wanted filth --her hands around Troy's neck and her nails drawing blood. She wanted to hear him cry like he had when he was still part wolf.

Jacob's words were a hammer upon her thoughts. "Sister, if you do not hurry downstairs, you will be sorry."

Rosalind pushed herself away from the mirror and stormed to the door.

"You know how Julian will not hesitate to eat his food and yours —"

Before her brother finished his sentence, she tugged the door open.

Jacob gasped as she came nose to nose with him. "uh...," he cleared his throat, "as well when you, uh...dilly-dally."

"He can eat the entirety of the kitchen for all I care." Rosalind stepped around her brother and dashed down the stairs to where her bow and quiver rested against the wall.

Jacob hurried to the balustrade and leaned over. "Where are you going?"

Grabbing her items, Rosalind pulled them to her chest. "Hunting."

"Let me come with you. The woods are unsafe."

Rosalind looked up and furrowed her brows. "Unsafe? The woods were safe enough when father left me there in exchange for your and Julian's lives. I lived among those trees for a month. I know them better than you do. They are safe for me."

Jacob reached out. "Father will not want you —"

Rosalind cut him off. "Tell him I will be back before nightfall."

There was nothing to kill. No little creature scurried underfoot. No little birds sang on boughs.

Rosalind thought of how once a wolf ruled the forest. A beautiful white wolf who became her protector, her lover, and soon would be her husband. Troy's transformation back to his human form was what he had dreamed of for decades; that and finally being free of his father.

"In fairy tales, it is the prince that saves the princess from the wicked witch or the cruel dragon." She stopped by a tree and ran her fingers along the rough bark. Her voice turned into a whisper, "But we do not live inside a fairy tale. We live in a nightmare where the damsel is damned. I may have saved Troy but what good is that if neither of us gets a happy ending?"

The sun weaved through the tops of the trees and crawled towards her. She felt the warmth on her skin. Stepping away she looked up and noticed a lone magpie glaring down at her.

"Wretched beastie," she uttered but her voice was feathers in a breeze. "I could shoot you down."

The magpie tilted its head and then shook it.

"Are you mocking me?"

The bird ruffled its feathers before shaking its head again.

"Do you understand me, you silly thing?"

The magpie did not reply.

"Of course you do not. Birds are no longer anything else. You are not made of magic as the creatures in the forest and the forest itself were when Caspian was lord. You are nothing more than an ugly bug-eating thing."

When the bird let out a pained caw, Rosalind felt ashamed. "I am sorry! You are not ugly. I am ugly. I have become ugly and horrid. I hurt others because I cannot rid myself of my anguish."

The magpie tapped its beak on the bark. Inky wings spread out as if to take flight.

"I will not shoot you down. I never would have," Rosalind woefully admitted.

The bird flapped its wings laggardly.

"I once knew a magpie who could bring me back home. Not to my father's home. To my beloved's."

The magpie pushed off the branch and lowered itself closer to her. That was when Rosalind noticed its ruby eyes and the blue tips on its feathery wings.

"You?" Her heart thrashed against her chest in vile anticipation. "Tell me it is you."

"Caw!" The sound was unnaturally loud. It was raw and deep but familiar. 

"How can it be? I must be going mad." Rosalind took a hasty step forward to get a better look.

"Caw!" With the sound echoing through the air, the bird pushed off the branch and took to the sky where it vanished among clouds and leaves.

"Wait, magpie. Please, come back maggie. Oh...oh. Am I lost in a hallucination or perhaps in a dream I long to become reality?" Rosalind's knees gave out and she plopped to the ground. She shook the bow and quiver off her and thrust them away. Arrows went flying and fell lifeless among tall grass and homely-looking orange flowers.

Her hands shook. Her heart wanted to destroy her. Her thoughts belonged to illogic. "The magpie with ruby eyes," she managed to utter between breaths. "She led me back to him once before."

Once, when she disclosed her desire to return to Caspian after her time was over, he promised her she would always be able to find her way for he would have a bird in the forest to guide her back. "There will always be a magpie waiting for you," she echoed her lord's words, "to guide you back."

"My lord!" The world around her was turning black. She leaned forward and clawed at the grass. Handfuls of blades and flowers came up as she pulled them out violently. Her fists were full of dirt. The tears burned but she would not let them fall.  Rosalind swallowed mouthfuls of air. Throwing her fists up, she screamed. Petals and dirt rained over her. "How can I return to you when you are no more?"

On shaky legs, she rose. Rosalind grabbed her bow, quiver, and as many arrows as she could find, and ran towards the manor.

Her heart.

Her heart.

The erratic beat tattooed the beastly lord's name all over her.

"I need," she hissed, "I need to feel like I am not going mad."

She knew Troy would be there overlooking the repairs.

"Damned bird." She looked to the sky.

She was dirty.

She needed him.

There was no trace of the magpie. "Damned nightbird with your horrid dark wings and horrid red eyes!"

She needed blood.

She needed to hear her betrothed cry out. Cry until it drowned out her mad heart, and the pain of wanting Caspian stopped. 

My fifth dedication is for @Nacht_Owl , one of the biggest supporters and cheerleaders on Wattpad! @Nacht_Owl is a reader whose feedback and comments always leave you with a smile. I am happy to call her my friend.