Chapter 32 – Carina
Thirty-Two
CARINA
I hear him before I see him from my place by the tree, where I’ve remained even as the sun shifted over the sky and evening approached. It was only a matter of time before Ryder came looking. Whether because of his dad or simply because he’s looking for his non-captive.
The woods crack beneath his rush, the air stilling at the guttural growl he releases seconds before rounding a line of trees and spotting me on the ground. A violent roar forces me to my feet as he stalks forward.
This version of Ryder is different than any other. This one looks capable of murdering me. Perhaps, his father’s impending death reminded him how much he despises witches.
Magick cools my palms to defend, not attack.
Attack. Darkness slithers around my neck, countering the very instinct.
He stalks me towards the trees, and because I’m too focused on ensuring he doesn’t charge and eat me, the tree approaches too soon. My back hits it and before an escape plan forms, he’s on me, a hand slamming the trunk above my head, his body creating a barrier that’d take magick to get free.
Crazed, silver eyes meet mine, confirming one thing. He’s spoken to his father, and I might need another pack member, like his beta, to save me from the wolf that’s becoming dangerous and deranged.
“What the fuck did you do?” The bark cries as it cracks, and a quick glance up reveals claws sprouting. At least now I know the murder weapon.
“I did nothing!”
“My father.” His free hand grips his hair, and with it, his energy wanes. His shoulders slump and the manic in his expression fades. It’s in a broken whisper he says, “He’s dying and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”
“I’m sorry.”
They’re words that seem appropriate, but it’s hard to guess.
Witches have a different relationship with death.
We accept it, knowing their souls are either with Hecate or reincarnated into other living beings on Earth.
The last person I saw my mother mourn for was Harlow and her parents, mainly because of the horrible way they were taken from us and how it was much sooner than it should be.
“You knew.” As quick as his whisper and grief seeped out, it’s gone now, the wolf returning.
Claws strike the tree above my head, crashing like thunder and energized by pure emotion—rage and heartbreak.
“You fucking knew and you did it anyway. You knew he’ll die before the week is up, before the other coven could fix what they caused, yet you still did it.
The Darkness. You took it, even though you’re scared of what it’ll do.
” Nails shred the bark as he brings his hand down to my cheek, cupping my face and tipping it up to meet his eyes.
Claws that could tear me in half stroke my face, a gentle caress of death.
“Why’d you do it, when it makes no difference?
Why would you do that even if it could make a difference?
” His hand grows heavy, claws biting into my skin, punishing.
Any second, he’ll pierce the skin and yet I don’t flinch.
Don’t move away, sensing Ryder needs this.
“Why would you put him, a shifter, above yourself? Fucking why, Carina?”
When he stops, his breaths a near-pant, and I believe he won’t start up again, I answer with a simple statement, an almost comical number of words compared to his speech. “He doesn’t deserve to die in pain.”
Ryder’s brows dip low and with a decompressing breath, his other hand joins the first, cupping my face, his claws sliding into my hair.
It tingles my scalp, and though I should probably fear him, that isn’t the feeling running through me.
His hold is intimate. Maybe more so than when I slept in his arms because this is fuelled by emotions and driven by longing.
“You’re supposed to be bad. Evil.” Nails scrape over my skull as delicate as his tone. “I’m supposed to hate you. Despise you. I was supposed to have you chained inside my cabin for the week and want nothing to do with you. I was supposed to be fucking happy to see you go!”
My swallow catches in my throats at all his supposed tos.
“You weren’t supposed to be you. The world is playing a fucking joke on me.
” His gaze traces my face, memorizing me.
“Evil beings don’t take on a Dark kind of magick for another’s wellbeing.
Evil is selfish and hateful. Evil doesn’t make friends with a pack.
Evil shouldn’t be good. You’re not evil…
Why are you not evil?” His tone is guttural, his eyes so impossibly dark my own reflection flickers back at me.
Defeat has him breathing hard, his voice barely audible, and those claws retract with every exhale. “Why are you so fucking confusing?”
“I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m sorry?”
“Sorry for being fuckin’ amazing? Don’t be, kamahki.” His body sways towards me, pressing me against the tree. “You shouldn’t have. Not at the risk of your own soul.”
“I wanted to.”
“That’s the worst part. You wanted to, and that says everything. I understand fate now.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Doesn’t matter.” He shakes his head roughly, hair flying in front of his eyes. “How do you feel?”
“Different. It was only a small amount, so hopefully only minor effects. In a way, stronger, like I could take on your whole pack. On the other hand, I still feel like me. Nothing’s changed.”
His breath blows softly over my face, and he drops his forehead to mine.
His eyes flutter shut but I keep mine open, staring at the shifter who, for better or for worse, I now consider a friend.
“I hate you for doing this to yourself. How can I protect you if you keep running off half cocked, putting yourself in danger?”
“You don’t need to protect me.”
A growl vibrates from his chest into mine, linking within my heart. “Thing is, I do. Everything demands keeping you safe, but you handed yourself to Darkness on a silver fuckin’ platter. I hate you for that.”
I bring my hands up to cup over his still holding my face, and my touch forces his eyes open. All it’d take is a slight tilt of my head to taste his lips on mine. “I’ll be alright. If I believed it’d be unsafe, I wouldn’t have done it.” A lie. “I didn’t want your dad to die in so much pain.”
He shakes his head without lifting his forehead. “This doesn’t change my mind, kamahki.”
After a long second, he retracts his fingers from my hair, then backs away.
He stares into the forest, sighs with all the weight of the world, and softly demands, “Go home, Carina. Twilight Grove has no need for us; there’s no cure required anymore, but that won’t stop them from coming.
Go home, tell your mother what happened.
Your coven will be able to protect you behind barriers and other magickal things I barely understand. ”
The ground staggers beneath my feet, rocking me forward, and I practically trip reaching for him, my hand finding the middle of his back. He shudders beneath my palm. “They’ll kill you if I’m not here.”
“We’ll disappear to the caves. They won’t know where to find us.”
“I still need the answers they’ll have. With or without your father’s life on the line, the plan must go through.”
Cords within his shoulders tighten, but he doesn’t turn around.
“If you want to place yourself in danger, do so with your people beside you and not me. If you’re asking me to hand you to them, I refuse.
You want to go? Leave. Because if you stay, I’m chaining you inside my cave, burying you in my nest, and they’ll never touch you. ”
Such strange words…such strange amount of care.
“You will not be taken from me for nothing. Go home. Be safe. Get away from here. From me.”
“Ryder—”
He whirls suddenly, his hand manacling around my neck, fingers gripping my jaw. His pupils flash silver and stay, and when he speaks, his lip curls to reveal the teeth he’s hidden from me. The wolf fangs capable of ripping me apart.
“Leave!” he roars. “Fucking go, Carina! I’m about to lose my father and I, I…I won’t lose you too. Go now before I make a big fucking mistake. Before I care. Leave now…while I can still walk away.”
Did he just…?
“Ryder.”
For all the distance he’s gained, he steals it again, his hands clenched tight around my waist as he pushes me back into the tree, his head ducking down. He rips my hair, tipping my head back, his lips nearing and—
“Ryder! Come quickly.”
He launches himself away, staring at who’s interrupted: Conan, his eyes wide as he flicks them between the two of us. “It’s your dad. He…he—Marissa’s asking for you.” Then he takes off, presumably towards Alaric’s cabin, leaving the unknown to linger.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, reaching for him. “If I could do something—save him. Prolong this…I would.”
“You’ve done enough.” He releases me and gives me his back again, walking towards camp.
It’s there he pauses, muscles tense. He flicks a glance over his shoulder that allows me to notice the despair—the emotion he lets seep out just enough before shielding me from it again. “Go home, Carina, and good luck.”
He walks away.