Chapter 34
Hawk
I let myself float in the gentle waves, along with all the wooden debris. But then movement sends bubbles of air my way, making me open my eyes in time to see the weird horse’s hindquarters morph into a twisted fishtail. It resembles the creature featured on the collar we had taken off Sylvan. A merhorse. A… kelpie.
I can’t explain how I went from hanging on to Sylvan’s advice about not interfering to white-shot anger that made the smugglers hostile. It’s ended up with the pier destroyed, and everyone floating in cold water. When I emerge to take in air, the dampness on my face and shoulders evaporates, creating a white cloud of steam that prevents me from seeing the details of my surroundings.
I’m boiling up.
I just want to…
“Sylvan! Where are you?” I ask as soon as my brain is no longer an overheated mass of goo.
“Here!” he yelps, struggling to keep his face above the surface. He’s splashing about like a puppy dropped into water for the first time, his lips wide open and facing the rocky ceiling of the cave. I reach him before he can disappear beneath the surface, and steel myself, in case I need to prevent him from attempting to climb me like the last person I saved from drowning had.
But he’s calm and holds on to my shoulder as I scoop him up with my arm before setting off to where the shore is a mild slope. Both the kelpie and Lepearl are already there by the time we exit the water. I can’t help but stare at the majestic creatures that nevertheless would not be out of place in a gothic horror movie. They’re back to being four-legged animals, but it’s hard to miss features that would be unusual on a regular horse, like the translucent film covering their hooves. Or the fucking skulls they have for heads.
Lepearl glares at us as she takes off her fish bone hat to twist salty water out of her hair. “I don’t know what you are, and frankly, I don’t care! Get out! I don’t want to fight, but if you step anywhere near my ship, I will!”
A tremor passes through Sylvan, but his lips are set, and he nods. “I understand. May I just ask you not to mention this to other captains?”
“Ha, only the ones whose ships I don’t want at the bottom of the ocean,” she shouts back, and that is that.
I let out a howl as the heat within starts once again rising. Alarmed, both the kelpie stand between me and their captain, a direct challenge to the demon inhabiting my blood. But before I can make another mistake, blinded by the fever burning out the insides of my skull, Sylvan grabs my hand, and I relent, like a dog brought to heel.
I want to apologize, to try to negotiate a safe passage for my husband at least—all he did was try to stop me—but when Sylvan tugs on my arm, I follow, leaving the cave with my tail between my legs.
The silence between us is inflamed and uncomfortable like an ulcer developing deep under the skin, but every time I inhale, about to speak, the absolute resignation painted on Sylvan’s face stops me from attempting to excuse my behavior. He doesn’t deserve what I’m unleashing on him. When I remember how I growled at him, the sense of despair inside makes me want to cry.
It’s Sylvan who speaks first once we’re on the coastal path, walking toward fuck knows where. Unlike my rapidly drying clothes, Sylvan’s are soaked, and he trembles from the cold no doubt piercing his flesh even more pervasively now that we’re back at the mercy of the wind.
“Why would you do that? I had it. I was negotiating,” he says, refusing to look my way.
I’m not a stranger to disappointing others, but his quiet resentment makes me long to crawl into a hole and disappear.
I’ve failed him.
I’ve failed my husband by letting this unnatural anger take over, and he’s the one who’ll have to live with the consequences. My teeth grind when a hot spasm shoots up my back. It’s doing something to my mind, demanding things so terrible I’d rather die than comply. Suddenly, I can smell the smoky aroma of Sylvan’s shadow with such clarity I dash to the rocky shore and dip my head in the salty water.
I’m heaving by the time I lift my head, but a degree of clarity is back. Sylvan is scooting next to me and puts his cool fingers on my hot back. I want to press my whole body against him so he can calm me. But I’m not worthy of his care.
“Hawk? What’s going on?” he asks with uncertainty in his voice, the earlier demands and anger gone.
He deserves to reach Ravanzia safely, not get stuck caring for me while I lose my mind. I know he should leave me here. Still, I push my head against his chest and claw at his damp clothes, taking whatever care he’s willing to give me after the stunt I’ve pulled.
“I’m sorry. I—I think there’s something wrong with me.”
Instead of getting annoyed, as most people would, he holds me close. No one has ever shown me this much patience. Sylvan slides to the sand, and at least I can hope I’m warming him up with the heat burning me from the inside as if I had the sun for a heart.
“Oh, no… Hawk. What is it? You must tell me at once.” He strokes my hair with tender fingers I want to kiss all over.
I’ve already done so much wrong today. I hate that telling him the truth will only add to his worries. I wish I could shield him from what is happening to me, but he needs to know. For his own safety.
“It’s… it’s as if my brain is boiling,” I whimper and squeeze his hand, even though deep down I feel seeking comfort is making the situation more difficult for us both. Being in my presence is putting him in danger. I can’t allow myself to rely on him in this situation. Still, he needs to be aware of what’s going on. “I think it’s the Sunwolf. I get so irrationally angry it’s like molten fire in my blood.”
Sylvan’s gaze is so soothing, even when he frowns with worry. “Fuck. This could be caused by a dozen of different reasons. Because you’re human, or because you weren’t a shadow-wielder and still used the mask. The Sunwolf might be trying to take you over. We will deal with this, Hawk. You should have told me sooner, but that doesn’t matter anymore. I brought you into my world, and I will find a way to help you.”
I stall, meeting his gaze as guilt and shame spread through my body. Maybe this would have been a rational option in another situation, but we are out here on our own, and if I snap, there will be nothing to stop me from hurting him. “No. You need to go on the boat. Please,” I beg, grabbing his hands as I hang my head and push it against him.
Understanding dawns in his eyes. His pupils widen, and what’s left of the ice blue seems to darken. “I’m not leaving you. I made a vow.” He takes a trembling breath and strokes my face. “Listen, it seems that the water cools you down. I will go to Lepearl, plead with her. I know I’ll find a way for her to take us—”
I shake my head and squeeze his thighs with a cry of anguish. “No. No. No. You have to leave me. I’m… I’m not myself. You can’t be trapped with me in the middle of the ocean!”
Sylvan goes so silent I can only hear his heartbeat and the hum of the ocean. He’s thinking. He’s not given up yet. But he has to . He has so much heart, but he’s also smarter than anyone I know. He has to see that I’m right about this.
“If I leave you, and you overheat again, you will go to the ocean. Those waters are dangerous, deadly even at the shore. You must at least let me take you somewhere safe. Even if you turn feral, maybe one day I will come up with a cure, and then I’ll know where to find you.”
I hate that he’s considering putting himself in danger for even a minute longer, but it’s impossible to say no to that last glimmer of hope.
Because I am afraid.
More than after my first kill. More than I was of a bear that once accosted me in the woods, more than of prison, and of death itself. I have been close to finished several times, but somehow this slow agony and the fear of becoming something else seems so much worse than a sudden end.
I shudder, nodding as his palms slide up and down my back, giving me comfort I haven’t earned, but which I’ll gladly accept. “As long as you’re safe. It would kill me if I hurt you.”
“I understand, but I’ll be safe. Especially now that I know what to watch out for.” He gets up, fists clenched with new determination. “Is it agitating for you to change into the Sunwolf?”
I shake my head, following him to my feet. “No, it’s actually soothing, more body for all the heat inside me. I think. Or it’s just trying to entice me into that form by making it feel good.”
Sylvan nods. “I’m only asking, because our travel will be much quicker that way, and we can’t waste time. We will go back to the werewolf castle. Remember the dungeon? It has access to a cold stream where they handled frenzied werewolves. You will have water but remain away from the dangers of the ocean.”
I want to protest, but as our gazes meet and I focus on the dark blue galaxies shimmering in his eyes, I give up on arguing. He’s right. The castle is not that far, and maybe there is in fact something that could help me? I need Sylvan to be safe, but I don’t want to give up on myself either. I didn’t survive six almost-deaths to do that.
“All right.”
I allow the sunlight within me to expand, and shift into the Sunwolf as he’s asked. The relief is instant, but deep down I know it’s a slippery slope that will lead me to losing myself. For now, I just focus on the fact that I will be able to keep Sylvan warm on the way.
“If it worked on feral werewolves, it might work for you,” Sylvan says while I’m speeding up. “No one can track you down in the dungeon.”
After five years in prison, that sounds dreadful, but if the thick walls keep me from hurting my lovely prince, I’ll take it.