To Live Among Wolves (Legends of Arcadia Book 1)

Chapter 24

Walking back to Guardian’s Glade sent excruciating pain throughout my body. It took everything in me to keep walking forward, a steady expression plastered on my face, though I’m sure it was more of a grimace.

When Caroline shut the doors behind us, I collapsed onto the throne. All of the nervous energy sapped the strength from my bones. Everything ached. And my head pounded, resisting the brightness of the afternoon.

“Nash,” I croaked. “Tell me everything.”

He stopped his pacing, exhaling before glancing at me. “You’ll have to fill in what you saw. But you guzzled the tea and then vomited it into the basket. And then Ransom started chanting in Ancient, and then you sort of…”

“What?” I prompted.

Nash shook his head. “You sort of went rigid. And your eyes grew all black. You were convulsing, and I didn’t know what to do.”

He ran a hand over his eyes. Eden slid her hand into mine.

“I’m sorry, Si,” he whispered.

I shook my head, holding a hand up in the air. “Don’t apologize. It was worth it.”

“It better have been worth it,” Caroline snapped.

“What happened?” Eden asked, eyes searching mine. “What did you see when you were…” She swallowed but didn’t finish her thought.

I closed my eyes and leaned against the throne that shouldn’t belong to me, the throne my father should still be sitting in. “I saw Lycaon.”

“What?” Caroline and Nash said simultaneously.

“The wolf from the legend?” Eden asked.

I nodded. “He talked to me about… about what I have to do.”

Nash grumbled in frustration. “Well, what do you have to do?”

“Whatever it is, you have us behind you,” Caroline offered.

I pushed myself up to a seated position. “He told me that I have what I need to bring light to the darkness. That he’s with me.”

“Silas,” Caroline breathed. “You have Lycaon’s blessing.”

My heart sank, and I couldn’t look at her anymore. I turned to Eden, who studied me.

“Whatever he’s asked you to do, we’re with you.” A hint of a smile tugged at her lips.

“Thank you.” I turned to Nash and Caroline, both having expressions of elation and disbelief. “Will you two take care of things today? I’m not sure I can.”

Caroline beamed. “Of course. I am so proud of you.”

If only she knew.

When she and Nash closed the doors behind them, I sank lower into the throne with a sigh, the branches lifting my weight.

“What is it?” Eden knelt in front of me.

“I’m exhausted.”

“You drank poison. You’re lucky you aren’t worse off.”

I couldn’t help but smirk at this human who’d already become such a big part of my life here in Arcadia. She slipped into the natural rhythm with only a hiccup.

I hoped she stayed.

“Let’s get you to bed, yeah?”

“It’s only midday.” Despite my protests, I allowed her to lead me to my room. The lamps were still lit, burning golden in the afternoon light. Eden’s books were scattered over the desk, a few pages marked with leaves.

I slipped into bed, pulling the blankets over my body.

“If you need me,” Eden said, “I’ll be working on my Ancient.”

I watched her for a while, paying attention to all of her little quirks. How she furrowed her brow when she couldn’t make sense of a word, how she muttered under her breath when she struggled to pronounce something, and how she picked at the edges of her nails.

“Eden,” I said, voice hoarse.

She perked up, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Come here.” I patted the bed.

Marking her place with a dried oak leaf, Eden closed the book and plopped on the bed, sitting cross-legged in front of me.

“What’s up?” She pursed her lips, studying me.

For a flash of a second, I considered what I was about to do, the confession I would give. Somehow, I knew and had known for a while. But it solidified into a formal emotion. No longer resting beneath the waves of my subconscious but living and breathing in my active thoughts.

I didn’t have to be a king around her. I could be me. She sparked a curiosity in me that had been dormant for so long. And though I didn’t know her well, I wanted to know her.

“Ja rakassen, Eden.”

I love you.

It felt easier to say in Ancient, like a secret, despite finally being said out loud.

“I… something…” Eden shook her head. “What’s that middle word?”

I smiled, brushing her hair out of her eyes. She had two pieces tied back so that it still hung loose, but the bulk of it out of her eyes.

Those entrancing eyes.

“You’ll have to translate for me.” I closed my eyes, leaning back, sinking in comfort.

The bed shifted when she moved back to the desk, rifling through the pages.

“Book three,” I indicated.

I heard her set the first book down and pick up another. Pages flipped for several seconds. Then silence.

I strained to hear any slight movement. The songbirds whistled above us and a light breeze rustled the leaves and needles.

“Rakas?” she repeated.

“Rakas.” I opened one eye, heart pounding in my ears.

She stared at the page, shoulders slack and eyebrows furrowed. She closed the book, gazing up at the lantern over the desk but not really seeing it.

“Ja rakassen, Eden,” I repeated, watching her.

She turned to me now, something like disbelief resting in her eyes.

I wondered for a moment if she didn’t feel the same. It sent a wave of ache through my entire body. Had I mistaken her touch, her concern, her care for something more?

“It’s okay,” I started in an effort to hide my embarrassment. “You don’t have to say anything. I wanted you to know.”

“Can I…” Eden spoke like I was something fragile in her hands. “Can I get you anything? Tea, lunch, a rock?”

My face twisted. “A rock?”

“I don’t know, I figured you’d read all the books. And it’s not like you have many things to keep you entertained in here.”

I propped myself up on my elbows, glancing around the room. “I guess I’ve never thought about it. I’ve never really been sick or injured where I couldn’t leave. And not that I can’t leave our—my room now,” I amended, rushing to cover the mistake. “I don’t want my people to be worried about me. They don’t know what kind of threat we’re facing, and I need to handle it in the most diplomatic way possible. I don’t want them asking questions and committing mutiny because their king can’t stand straight without swaying like a reed.”

Eden laughed under her breath. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Silas.”

My chest warmed at her words. It wasn’t I love you, but as good as. And if this arranged marriage wasn’t for love, it could at least be for friendship.

But Lycaon, please let it be for love.

“Thank you.” I nodded. “Lunch would be great, if that’s not taking you away from your studies.”

“I need a break anyway.” She stretched and then headed to the door.

I sat up. “Oh, and if you find a nice rock…”

A bemused expression crossed her face as she rolled her eyes and she shut the door. I flopped back on the bed, a sigh escaping.

This balance of whatever this was… it was tiring. But not how I had expected.

I thought it would have been more difficult to slip into this position of lover, of friend, of constant companion. But it felt like buttoning my robe. Second nature.

But it tired me in other ways. Her fragility frightened me, knowing she couldn’t defend with teeth and claws like virlukos. It infuriated me to no end that I didn’t know how she felt. And I struggled to keep my thoughts positive knowing she might one day choose to leave me and Arcadia behind.

Am I going to be the first King whose pairing selection failed?

I shook the thought from my mind.

I had to stay positive.

I closed my eyes and slipped between memories, thinking of my mother, my father, our faded happy past that eluded me. I thought of the peaceful moments under the trees in the heart of Arcadia, my mother tending her flowers and her children playing behind her. So close to me, yet so far away.

What will she say when you see her again?

I wanted a love like my mother and father’s, one filled with laughter and playful moments. I wanted a love both fierce and tender, loyal to a fault.

I heard the door open before Eden spoke. “It’s not much.”

I leaned forward, eyeing the steaming bowls on a wooden tray. I inhaled the scent of roasted meat and sage. “Venison stew?”

“Mmm.” She hummed, setting the platter on the desk and bringing me a bowl. “I hope it tastes okay. When I asked for some, the cooks said it wasn’t quite ready. But I thought a bit of protein might be better than carbs on an empty stomach.”

“This is perfect, Eden. Thank you.”

She climbed into the bed next to me, setting a stone between us.

I picked up a round, smooth basalt rock.

“You asked for a rock, so I did you one better and found one that reminded me of you.”

A smile slipped onto my lips. “So I’m round and dark?”

Her eyebrows furrowed, lips parting. “No, more your personality.”

“Stony?”

She rolled her eyes, shoving my knee. “No! Smooth and stoic. And well-rounded.”

“Uh-huh. Sure. I’ll believe you.”

She sighed in frustration.

“I’m only teasing, Eden. Thank you.” I ran my thumb over the surface of the rock as I scooped a spoonful of potatoes and venison into my mouth.

As I swallowed, my stomach turned. I covered my mouth with my hand and waited to see if it would twist further. I’d assumed I might be sick after the nightshade, but I hoped against it.

They did warn me.

“Silas?” Eden’s spoon hovered halfway to her mouth.

“Fine.” I nodded.

I forced myself to take another bite, worried I would give it right back up. After swallowing, my mouth grew wet with saliva and my throat burned.

“Silas.” Eden set her soup to the side and pulled mine away. “What’s going on?”

I stood, licking my lips. I pulled tree branches aside to reveal the small side door I rarely used and slipped out before expelling my stomach onto the forest floor.

And again.

And again.

I glanced around, ensuring no one was nearby. The micca peered around the trees and from under the ferns with their golden eyes. Birds flitted in the branches, mocking me.

I half-waved toward the micca before throwing up again.

“Here.” Eden ducked through the side door and passed me a mug of water.

I glanced back up at the micca, but they’d disappeared. Or at least they’d gone into concealment like the little hide-and-seek masters they were.

“Thank you.” I tipped the edge of the mug to my lips, taking in water.

She shrugged, and I wiped my lips with the back of my arm. “It’s not quite holding your hair back, but it’s something.”

I raised an eyebrow.

She shook her head. “Never mind.”

The sound of leaves rustling for a moment snagged my attention.

“What was that?” Eden asked, stepping back behind me.

Despite my eyesight and lifetime in the forest, I couldn’t find the source of the rustling. But I knew better than to believe it was nothing.

“Onni, micca. Rauha ussen,” I croaked out.

“Hello… something… Peace with you?” Eden stated more as a question than a translation.

I flashed her a smile. “Peace to you.”

“Who’s here?” she asked, eyes scanning the trees.

“I don’t know who, but it’s the micca.”

“Micca?” Eden’s brows furrowed.

I turned my gaze back to the forest in front of us. For a moment, all stayed still. Then, like they were welcomed by my words, a group of micca appeared spaced out in a semicircle around us.

“What are they?” Eden slid a hand on my shoulder, the warmth of her touch sending electricity down my spine.

“Micca.” I smiled at the closest one.

He was no taller than a large dog, his braided beard dusted the mossy forest floor. He blinked large eyes at me, golden like an autumn sunset. His clothes were mottled browns and greens, mimicking the colors of the undergrowth of the forest, and his slightly pointed ears stuck out beneath his long hat.

“Onni, je kunan.” He bowed his head to me and then turned to Eden. “Je kunin.”

“What did he say?” Eden whispered, hand tightening on my shoulder.

“He says, hello, my king.” I turned my head, her fingers mere inches from my lips. The desire to kiss them nearly overcame me. The idea of her saying she loved me back invaded my thoughts. But then the remembrance of her lack of words only moments ago doused the fire. “My queen.”

“Queen.” Her voice trembled.

“Rakas ar lo surin rauha innu feru,” the micc said.

“Love and peace and wild.” Eden muttered.

“To Love is the greatest peace in the wild,” I translated.

Against my better instinct, I place a light kiss on her knuckles. I stepped forward, letting her hand slip off my shoulder.

Kneeling in front of the micc, I met his gaze. “Kanin sun nahn?”

“Rusna.” The micc beamed at me, golden eyes glimmering in the afternoon sun that filtered through the foliage.

“Rauha, Rusna.” I held my right hand over my heart, bowing to him.

He bowed low, beard rustling over the moss and ferns at his bare feet.

I stood, turning to Eden. “He says his name is Rusna.”

“What do they…” Her question hung, unsaid.

“They kind of do their own thing. They’re still pretty secretive and isolated even with us, but the micca are the forest caretakers.”

“Like park rangers and game wardens?”

A chuckle escaped me. “Not quite. If virlukos protect humans and lead them back to safety, micca care for the forest and ensure things work how they should.”

“Like gardeners?”

I shrugged. “Something like that.”

With gracefulness I hadn’t expected, Eden knelt in front of Rusna, who stepped back. His face tilted upward, showing off his larger nose and odd eyes, his skin tanned by the sun. Eden held out her hands. Slowly, Rusna slid his small, wrinkled hands into hers, his golden eyes watching hers.

“Rauha us sen.” She stumbled over the Ancient words.

“Ussen,” I corrected.

Rusna beamed and then bowed low again, his beard brushing against his feet. “Rauha ussen, cara e micca.”

Eden turned to me, eyebrows pinched together.

With a chuckle, I licked my lips. “Peace to you, friend of the micca.”

Something about seeing Eden smiling at Rusna, bridging the gap between humans and the magic of Shaconage, brought so much hope and courage to my spirit.

I only hoped it would last.