26. Wolf
Chapter 26
Wolf
I fought every fucking instinct in my body that told me to go after them. I made peace with my lack of wings. I accepted it for what it was, because anything else would be torture.
But knowing that Huntyr was out there with my brother, flying across the kingdom all the way back to the crumbling, vile town of Midgrave?
And knowing she was going to see him —the male who put those scars on her back?
That was its own form of torture. Even the scars on my back itched, urging me to go after them, to fly into the night sky and protect her, no matter the cost.
I could do nothing but sit in the bed that reeked of her and wait for them to return.
Asmodeus was thoroughly distracted, spending his time bottle-deep with Luseyar in his study. I made sure they wouldn’t be looking for Huntyr or Jessiah at any point tonight so the two could make it out during the night and arrive before anyone noticed they were missing.
But the sun approached the horizon. They were running out of time.
I returned my attention to the book in my lap and tried to focus on anything else. It was the same book Huntyr had been reading, and she folded one of the pages in the corner to keep her place. I scanned the page, inhaling every word.
A lot of it, I heard when I was younger. I never read these specific books, but I remembered a few details from stories the maids would tell us as children.
Never when my father was around, of course. He never wanted us to hear of such things. The less we knew, the better. It was one of his many tactics to keep us at his mercy.
The book talked of the vampyre history, but it also talked of the hungry ones.
The hungry ones had been around for centuries, but never in such high numbers. The book explained their origin, how the first vampyre to lose control of their blood lust was cursed, a reminder to everyone of what would happen when one lost control.
But then, the curse grew and grew.
After a few decades, it did not matter if you lost control of your thirst or not. Vampyres of completely sound minds were at risk, and the curse spread through the kingdom like a wildfire in the valley.
Nobody was safe.
Nobody would be safe until the curse was broken.
I flipped the page, expecting to see more about the curse and how it was supposed to be broken, but the page had been ripped out.
Ripped out.
Anger immediately flooded my senses. I knew exactly who would do something like this. If there really was a way to break the curse, to cure the hungry ones, my father would ensure nobody else knew about it.
The cheating fucking bastard.
I threw the book from my lap and sauntered to the bathroom, pacing back and forth a few times as I tried to calm my temper.
He wanted us to be so weak, it made me sick. I didn’t even have to ask myself if he would be capable of such a thing. I already knew the answer. Someone who sliced their son’s wings from their back was capable of anything.
I pulled off my shirt and turned around in the mirror, glancing over my shoulder to see the massive, hideous scars that remained. My chest tightened. I didn’t give myself time to think about my missing wings after it happened. All I cared about was Huntyr—getting her out of that dungeon alive.
That was still my main focus.
If I had to lose my wings to keep her safe, so fucking be it. I meant what I said. I would cut them off my own back if it meant protecting her.
But looking in the mirror right now still sent a cold shudder of disgust through me. My black wings were bad enough. They were an anomaly, a signal to everyone that I was unworthy. But to have no wings at all?
My eyes burned, tears clawing their way to the red brims. I didn’t have time to pity myself.
If I did, if I gave in to the pain and betrayal and fucking sadness, I didn’t think I could pull myself back out.
What is an angel without wings?
What is a monster without teeth?
I didn’t notice the bedroom door opening until it clicked shut behind me. Huntyr stood there, back pressed against the wall as she eyed me carefully.
I cleared my throat and wiped at my eyes, praying to the fucking goddess she didn’t just see me gawking at myself. I stepped out of the bathroom casually, looking her up and down. She wasn’t hurt, something my magic would've picked up on immediately.
But her face was blank.
“Where have you been?” I asked. I walked to the bed and picked up the book I had been reading, twisting it in my hands to avoid looking at her.
I felt her cock her head to the side as she stared at me. “Don’t act like you didn’t know,” she breathed. “Jessiah would never take me out of here without running it by you first.”
I tensed but said nothing, keeping my attention on the book in my hands.
“It was fine,” she started. “Good, actually. It was—” Something tight filtered through our bond. It was enough to make me finally look at her. “He wasn’t there. We made it all the way there, but Lord wasn’t there.”
“Fuck,” I muttered. “I’m sorry, Huntress.”
She stepped forward, hands in front of her, almost as if she was going to reach out to me. “Don’t apologize. You’re the one who made this possible, and I—” She swallowed before she continued. “I don’t know how to thank you for this. I know how much it must’ve killed you.”
I tore my gaze away, suddenly feeling very vulnerable in front of my violent Huntress. Yeah, it did fucking kill me, but nothing was more important than her. If she needed a few hours back home to survive this mess, it was worth it.
“It was nothing,” I replied.
A long silence fell. “Yeah, well. Thank you anyway.” She waited a few more seconds before making her way to my bathroom. “And Wolf?” She turned and glanced at me over her shoulder.
“Yeah?”
“A wise man once told me, ‘Just because your back may hold those physical scars doesn’t mean you can’t rewrite that story.’” She dipped into the bathroom before I could answer, and I was damn grateful for it, because the tears rushed back to my eyes as I settled into my space on the edge of the bed.
I said those words to her in Moira after I’d seen the scars on her back. Fucking hells. I guess we both had stories to rewrite.
A few minutes later, the bed shifted where Huntyr’s body slid between the sheets. She always tried so hard to stay as far away from me as possible, but it never mattered. I always woke up with her head on my chest and our limbs intertwined.
It made it that much harder to untie myself from her grasp every morning without waking her, but there were certain boundaries I still wasn’t willing to cross. She already fought with her emotions plenty. I didn’t plan on adding more to that mix.
For now, I would accept as much of her as I could get.
Even if it meant torturing myself over it.