6. Wolf
Chapter 6
Wolf
I lay on the floor of my bedroom, listening to the low pounding of her heart. She fell asleep an hour ago, wrapped in the soft linens of my bed. I could smell her too. The subtle scent of my soap lingered on her perfect skin.
Pine and sweet, sweet cherries.
This was my own personal form of torture, to have to stay this close to her, unable to touch her. Not able to kiss her lips, to hold her in my arms.
Still, tonight was a step in the right direction. She finally looked at me without disgust and hatred. It was likely the ale, but still. I missed the way she smiled, the way her eyes lit up.
I heard footsteps approaching from the hall outside.
I immediately sat up, careful not to make a single sound as I rushed to the door, waiting. The footsteps grew closer, closer, closer before stopping right in front of my door.
I twisted the doorknob and threw the door open before my visitor could knock.
Luseyar stood in front of me, his hand on his hip, his chin raised. “Your father summons you,” he said.
“Right now?” I whispered. I glanced back to make sure Huntyr was still sound asleep. “What about her?”
“Leave her here,” he insisted. “He only wishes to speak to you and your brother.”
The hair on the back of my neck rose, but I nodded once before grabbing my shirt and slipping out into the hall.
Jessiah was exiting his room at the same time. He clearly just woke up, with his golden hair messy and his shirt in wrinkles.
There was no way he knew where we were tonight. If he thought for even a second that I took Huntyr to that pub, he would have me in shackles.
It wasn’t entirely unheard of for Asmodeus to summon us like this. He was chaotic and had no sense of schedule, but usually, this meant he had a new idea—good or bad. I still remembered the way he summoned me to tell me I would be going to Moira to find the girl who would end everything.
My brother gave me a reassuring nod. He did that often, and the older I got, I wasn’t sure why. It’s not like he could really protect me. Not against our father, anyway.
We both started down the hall after Luseyar in silence. Every step I took away from her felt wrong. I hated leaving her side; even in the dungeons, I hated it.
“What does he want this time?” I asked once we were away from the bedrooms.
Luseyar glanced over his shoulder. He wasn’t a bad guy. He was stuck in this trap with Asmodeus, same as everyone. But he would do anything to protect himself, and that included hurting either one of us.
That included cutting my damn wings off.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” he said with a sigh.
Great. We were going in totally blind.
Father was the one who told us to observe The Golden City anyway. If anyone had seen us out, I had a perfectly good excuse for walking the city with Huntyr. There was something else. I could feel it.
“This way.” Luseyar turned toward the door to the gardens. The d ead gardens, rather. “He’s expecting you both.”
He waited at the door while Jessiah and I both entered. This place used to be beautiful and lush. Greenery used to cover every stone out in this garden. But it had been years since any plant dared to bloom here. I didn’t blame them. The death and decay was much more fitting.
My father sat on a stone bench in the middle of the dead vines and black roses, waiting. “There you two are,” he said. “Finally. We have much to discuss.”
“It’s the middle of the night,” I added, and Jessiah gave me a warning glance as he walked forward.
“It is, and that’s why I’ve summoned you both here now. I find it difficult to sleep at night, knowing the queen of the blood kingdom is in my grasp, and yet I still have no control over her.”
“I’d say you’ve got pretty great control, actually. She’s still here.”
A flare of his magic fluttered through the air, forcing my chest to tighten on instinct. “Do not test me, boy. I will not hesitate to take what is mine, no matter who gets in my way.”
“And she’s in your way?” Jessiah added.
Asmodeus took a long breath. “If she’s not willing to help us, then yes.”
Jessiah and I shared a glance. “She’s coming around. I need more time to earn her trust back.” And to think of a way to get us both far, far away from here.
“Time is precisely what we do not have,” he retorted. “She’ll be a mature vampyre very, very soon. If my sources are correct, she’ll be turning twenty-five in a few days.”
“Your sources?” I stepped forward. “Who are your sources?”
“That’s none of your concern,” he said. “But it won’t matter if she becomes too powerful to control—which is why I have a new plan.”
I crossed my arms over my chest and tried to steady my breathing.
New plan? This could not be fucking good.
“Huntyr will marry one of my sons. One of you will become king of the blood kingdom by marriage. Then, we will have control.”
A second of silence passed. I could have sworn the crows stopped cawing in the distance.
And then we both asked, “What?”
He raised his head to look at us for the first time since we’d entered. “One of you will marry Huntyr. I do not care which, but the ceremony will be on the day of the equinox.”
I took a long breath, pushing aside the absolute delusion that my father fell victim to. Marriage? As if that would help anything; as if that would somehow allow him to get closer to Huntyr.
“That’s impossible,” I insisted. Panic crept up my body and tightened my voice. “How is marrying her supposed to give us more control? Nobody even knows she is the blood queen!”
“They will,” he said. “We will make the announcement then, after it’s done. We’ll gather the vampyres and rebuild Scarlata one by one, with our family in charge.”
Fucking hells. He had a track record of insane, chaotic ideas, but this topped them all.
“She’ll never agree to that,” I pushed. Jessiah stood with his arms crossed and his mouth shut, but I could practically feel the arguments inside his mind.
“She’ll agree to it, or she’ll die,” he insisted. “And when she begins to fully mature into her vampyre heritage, she’ll be more willing to accept her role as their queen.”
This was so, so wrong. Huntyr was never going to agree to that. She already made it very clear she would die before she helped him. A forced marriage? Goddess above, we were about to rip apart every ounce of freedom she had left.
“You are dismissed,” he ordered. “Keep an eye on her. I will prepare for the equinox. You have eight weeks.”
Eight fucking weeks. I had eight weeks to figure out how we were going to escape this fate, how we could shut Asmodeus down before he became drunk on his own power.
If it wasn’t already too late.
“Let’s go,” Jessiah whispered as he turned. My father went back to pretending we weren’t even there, weren’t even in front of him.
A new wave of hatred washed over me. He never cared about Huntyr, that much was obvious. All he cared about was the power she could give him. But to blatantly use her like this?
“Keep walking,” Jessiah whispered, shoving my shoulder lightly. As soon as we were out the door, Luseyar slipped in and shut it, leaving me and Jessiah alone in the dark hallway. “Do you have a damn death wish?” he asked. “You know better than to question him like this!”
“This is fucking insane!” I clenched my fists, looking for something I could punch to get this anger out of me. “He wants to marry her off like she’s nothing! What then? He’ll lock her up and force us to rule the vampyres?”
“Think about this, okay? If you really care about her, this is how you’ll keep her safe. You marry her, satisfy this current outburst of delusion, and the two of you can think of a plan later. Okay?”
I stopped pacing and shook my head. “She’ll never marry me, Jessiah.”
“That’s not what it looked like when I found you in the pub tonight. If it’s this or death, I think she’ll?—”
“You don’t know her like I do.” I inhaled shakily. “I’m telling you, it will never happen.”
“Fine,” he sighed. “Then I’ll do it.”
I pinned him to the wall before he could take his next breath. “You absolutely will not,” I growled.
He lifted his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, calm down! I’m only trying to find a way to get us all out of here alive, Wolf. Think with your damn head!”
This was so messed up. “I can’t think of this right now,” I sighed. “If she’s becoming a vampyre next fucking week , I’ll worry about that first. Keep your mouth shut about the marriage thing, okay? It’ll only piss her off more. I need some time.”
“Time?” His laugh was menacing. “You’ve got eight weeks, brother. Good luck with that.”
I led Huntyr to a small, overgrown clearing behind the main castle of The Golden City. It was secluded here, private, but it also gave her a break from those suffocating walls of her confinement.
“It’s important you don’t lose what you learned in Moira. Your magic will be getting stronger as you transition.”
She didn’t even look me in the eye. Her gaze had been that way lately—vacant, cold, like she was always somewhere else in her mind, never here.
I didn’t blame her, but if she was going to get stronger—strong enough to protect herself—she would have to fight.
“Huntress,” I called out, setting a soft hand on her shoulder.
She snapped her attention to me before shoving my hand away. “I heard you.”
Doubtful, but I continued anyway. “Let’s start with whatever feels easiest. Natural magic, anything you can summon.”
She stood with her hands crossed over her chest, practically hugging herself. It wasn’t cold outside today, but she wore one of my long tunics that practically drowned her. She had on the same dirty, black boots she always wore, and even though they were falling apart, they reminded me of the old Huntyr. The fighter.
“I don’t feel anything,” she said, mindlessly kicking a small stone with her boot. “There’s really no point, anyway. If I allow my power to grow, he’ll force it out of me even faster.”
“That’s not true.” I stepped forward but kept my voice calm as I pushed. “You need to be able to protect yourself, especially here. Don’t think about this being for him. Think about this being for you.”
She rolled her eyes, but at least she finally looked at me. “Fine. But unless my magic has morphed into some world-destroying essence, I’m not sure it will help me here.”
Okay, I ignored that comment. Huntyr had no clue how powerful she was fated to become. She was the blood queen, the heir to the Scarlata throne.
If what I tasted in her blood was true, she really could have the power to destroy worlds.
Which is something my father could never find out.
“Start with something small. Simple.”
She closed her eyes and took a breath, the only sign she was trying to summon her magic. I felt a stir in my stomach through our bond, my own magic reacting to hers.
Her eyes snapped open. “Stop doing that.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“You are. I can feel it.”
I dipped my head to hide my smile. “My magic can feel yours through the bond. I promise you, I’m not doing anything on purpose.”
She rolled her eyes and scoffed. “It’s distracting. If you want me to use my own magic, put yours away.”
Even though I wanted to remind her that the entire point of the bond was to share magic, I kept my mouth shut. I was keeping my mouth shut about quite a lot of things lately.
She was going to fucking hate me for it.
“Fine.” I held my palms up and took a step backward, giving her space to breathe. “I’ll put it away. Try again.”
I pretended not to hear the slur of curse words beneath her breath. She let her eyes flutter closed, her dark brows furrowing in concentration as she tried to summon the magic.
Wind picked up around us, the sky growing darker and darker. I forced my own power down in my chest as it reacted to hers. Hells, she was so damn powerful, and she didn’t even know it. She cut herself off, shoved her own magic down to be safe. To be secure, unseen.
I knew the feeling.
“Stop holding back,” I ordered.
She huffed in response, but held her hands out before her as the wind whipped around us. Even the barren plants around us reacted to her, vines reaching toward her.
“I’m not holding back.”
“You are. You know you are.”
Her eyes snapped open, hands dropping back to her sides. The wind ceased, plants stilled. “Maybe it’s because it’s not safe for me to show my magic here. How do I know you aren’t trying to train me so I’m ready for your father whenever he takes my magic?”
Goddess above. She was going to be the death of me, one way or another. “I can’t force you to trust me, Huntress, but I don’t know how else to make you believe I’m trying to help you. Your power will grow. You’ll become very, very strong. You barely touched your abilities in Moira and you almost burned that place to ash, so if you’d rather lose control entirely and have no way to summon your own magic on command, be my guest.”
She glared at me with dagger eyes. “I’d love to lose control. I’ll take you all with me when I go, too.”
I stepped forward. “You wish you could be so lucky.” I waited for a response from her, but none came. I pushed forward, “Be angry, Huntress. Be entirely pissed off. Let that fuel you, let that fill every single one of your bones as you train. But train . Wield your magic. Become strong.” I took another step forward so I could smell the sweat glistening on her skin. “Become unstoppable.”
If Huntyr didn’t trust me, that was fine. That was something I could live with. But right now, I silently begged for her to understand me, to feel how important it was that she learned full control of her current abilities so I could get us both out of here at the first possible opportunity.
By the kind grace of the goddess above, something I said must have stuck, because Huntyr took another deep breath, spread her feet in another bracing stance, and summoned her magic again.
And again.
And again.
Even though we both felt the strengthening of her magic, we said nothing. I pushed her until an hour passed, then two. Huntyr didn’t fight me again, didn’t argue as I helped her pull more and more and more of her gift.
Good.
If she was willing to fight, there was a chance. If she was willing to get pissed off, we may be able to make it out of here alive.