Chapter 12
DION
We pulled up at the small creek, a trickle in the vast harsh lands.
The women descended, yawning and stretching in turn.
I felt a pang of sympathy for them, sleeping in the saddle was never comfortable.
I’d done it many times with Roman, but then I remembered what we had to talk to them about.
We needed the truth. The sympathy turned cold, just as the night had been.
I took the horses to drink at the small creek, I didn’t need to tie them off, they’d stay with the water. The land was too brutal if they left. I opened my saddlebag and took out the rolled poster, heading back to the base of the large gnarled tree Roman had made our camp.
He passed around the dried meat and bread we purchased at Kadaar. He squatted down and began eating his food; this was my battle. I let the girls eat, handing over water bags as well. They ate greedily and hungrily, unaware how much more travel we had before us.
But we were all keeping secrets.
“Last night,” I began. It brought their faces up, I looked at Feyra for a time before continuing on. “We killed over thirty of the Lady Skol’s guards. As you might’ve guessed, we had help, but as far as Lady Skol is concerned, it was us four. Because of that, soon we will all be wanted criminals.”
The girls had stopped chewing, they were unsure where I was heading with this. That was good.
“It is a considerable burden for Roman and I. It will make things inconvenient for us going forward. But then, that isn’t all we’re wanted for.
” I opened the poster, showing the women.
“It seems there’s some truths you two need to explain to us.
We’ve put ourselves out there for you, now I think we’re owed the truth.
Your supposed goal to find the lost city of Jebra is merely an escape? ”
Both girls reached for the poster. I pulled it away, shaking my head. As they read, they went from curiosity to shock.
“What is this?” Feyra asked.
“A merchant’s daughter?” Agatha said, snorting afterwards.
“I believe that’s the question I was just about to ask,” I said. “Explain.”
“Explain what?” Feyra said. “I’ve never seen this before.”
I looked at Roman and he shrugged, looked back down to his bread.
“Well let's look at it with distance, you two came to the town of Moondaj wanting passage to a city across the Warlands. You wanted to travel as far from Lassig as possible. Now we know why.”
“I’ve never seen this,” Feyra repeated. She was serious. “Why would I kidnap my own friend?”
“And I am most definitely not a merchant's daughter,” Agatha said. She folded her arms.
A shadow of doubt passed over Feyra’s face though. I felt a surge of power within her, she was afraid. They weren’t telling the truth.
“Your friend doesn’t think so,” I said.
Feyra snapped her head back to me. Agatha looked aghast.
“Well, I mean–” she swallowed, tears welling up to her eyes. “I am technically a merchant’s daughter.”
“So what else is true?” I asked.
“But he doesn’t even know she exists!” Feyra said. She stood up now, Matching me face to face. “He’s never had anything to do with her.” Fear turned to anger.
“He doesn’t even know I’m alive.” Agatha was shaking her head. “He had my mother killed and left in a ditch with me still in the womb. I was saved by Feyra’s aunty.”
The girls embraced, protecting themselves from me. Again I felt the power emanating from Feyra. Love pulsing from within her. Like the love I’d felt from her…
But I still wasn’t convinced.
“And have you ever reached out?” I asked.
“She doesn’t want anything to do with him,” Feyra snapped, letting go of her and facing me.
But Agatha was quiet.
“Regardless of what you’ve told me, you’ve not explained this.
” I flapped the poster. “This is a hefty reward for someone’s life.
Even more, for both. You say you don’t know about any of this, you say you’ve never contacted him, and yet here is a decree from the Lady Skol and her council.
Her guards and inspectors are putting these posters up in every village.
That is why I rode ahead the other night, to see if this poster was in more than one place.
And it is. You are both being searched for. ”
Feyra went to speak and I held up a hand to stop her. Rage surged within her.
“I understand your rage.” Feyra’s face practically somersaulted.
“Your friend drips with fear though. I can smell it. Fear at being discovered? For lying? To you? Me?” I wasn’t backing down.
This Lassigian could do nothing to me. “Either you tell the truth now, or you can tell it to the guards when we exchange you for the ransom money.”
“What?” Agatha snapped.
Even Roman’s head snapped up at that. I hadn’t told him that part. Feyra pulsed with fear and anger. If she knew how to shift, she could’ve long ago and made things a lot more interesting. But her inexperience was saving her here.
“What evidence can you give me that you are not lying?” I said.
Both girls said nothing. The rage in Feyra grew, exponentially. It kept doubling. She was surging. She was going to shift.
And she didn’t even know it.
Roman lunged for Agatha, grabbing her and rolling away, as Feyra screamed in pain. Her back arching, mouth open in a howl, she transformed…
I shifted instantly, meeting her eye to eye as she transformed for the first time into her wolf form.
Her scream turned into a howl. Her arching back became the shape of a hulking she-wolf digging her enormous claws into the dry earth of the land.
A moment of doubt cascaded across my mind. She was enormous! She was an alpha wolf. She was from an incredibly strong bloodline. Why had it taken her so long to transform? How had it–
But I didn’t have time.
Her wolf had awoken, taking in her anger and rage. Her fear. And now was roaring and looking at the very thing that had created it—Me.
I roared back and tackled her around the middle. Rolling into the dust and crashing into the creek, I tried holding her down. She was writhing and gnashing at me. Her wolf was, rightfully, insanely pissed off.
I should’ve expected this. She never was going to last until the full moon. Not with this power. Not with this wolf inside.
I leapt from her and took off for the plains, there was only one chance for me to beat her in a first time shifting rage, I had to tire her out.
I sprinted away from the camp, the shale and rocks flying up as my claws ripped across the harsh landscape. I heard her following. Glances back showed her lathered jaws and sharp teeth.
She. Was. Pissed.
I turned and faced her, she balled into me without much time to react. Her claws ripped at my flesh as we rolled. I stuck my hindlegs under her ribs and pushed upwards, launching her into the air.
She landed with a hard knock. She was winded. But she stood.
She was tough.
Real tough.
But clumsy. She came at me head on, I dodged and kicked out, connecting with her hips. She spun out and collapsed into the dirt. She was getting more angry. The pulses of energy emanating from her were growing. She was peaking in her transformation.
Most people on their first shift were wild to their impulses, running the lands and giving into their bestial inclinations. Most killed animals and caused destruction. Some, if in the proximity of an alpha male, gave into their sexual desires. It could last anywhere from an hour to a whole night.
But I was making her angry. Tiring her out with the heat and frustration. She would get overwhelmed.
I spun her out again by the hips as she came. She roared in frustration. She came again, but dodged my kick, sinking claws into my ribs. I screamed in pain.
I had to end this before she hurt herself, or me. And I didn’t want to mark her for a mate, yet.
She came at me again and I rolled backwards, catching her but not letting go. I booted up at her ribs, winding her, then rolled over.
I pinned her against the ground and held her still.
Feyra!
Her roars echoed around my skull. Her howls of rage. But I kept communicating with her in our wolf sense.
Feyra! Calm down. You must calm down or you’ll hurt yourself.
She roared in my face, gnashing up at my muzzle. I batted her aside.
Feyra!
She kept roaring and defying my command. She had gone feral.
I swelled all of my power, all of my surge and put it in the depths of my lungs…
I roared as loud as my wolf had ever screamed.
The pitch echoed into the valley and raced across the plains.
The horses were screaming, trying to break away from Roman, who held them stoutly.
The small form of Agatha stood petrified.
But my eyes were only for Feyra.
It’s okay, I said. It’s okay.
All the breath went out of her wolf. She went slack, exhaling like a wounded beast. And then, slowly, she began turning back to her human form.
Her features shrank, her claws receded back into hands.
Her arms lost their fur. Soon she was without a muzzle and whiskers, back to the beautiful woman that was tearing my insides apart.
She was no mere commoner.
She was a queen.
And I was only more intrigued by her.
I leaned down, having returned to my human form, and picked her up. I carried her gently in my arms back to the gnarled tree. The horses were still petrified, but Roman had calmed them slightly. Agatha watched in awe, her lips fluttering and begging to say something, anything, but no words came.
I lay Feyra down in the tatters of her clothes. Then I went to the horses, I patted them until they were calm, speaking softly. I opened the saddlebag on the pack horse that hadn’t been touched yet. It held a change of clothes.
“In the dawn the woman of scarred heart would show her true form,” Roman said, nodding as he spoke. He was gripped with foresight, staring into a forbidden horizon.
“Yes,” I uttered.
I took the clothes and lay them beside Feyra.
“You knew?” Agatha said. “You knew she was a shifter?”
“I knew she had the blood,” I said. “But I didn’t know she was of the royal bloodline.”
“But–but she’s meant to be dormant,” Agatha said, collapsing to her knees at her friend’s side. “She’s not meant to be able to do this.” She covered her friend up with the clothes.
I turned away, giving her privacy. She sounded afraid. Surprised. The smell of fear had never left her.
“She’s meant to be dormant,” she repeated. More to herself than me. “What happened?”
I turned back, staring at Feyra for a long time. She was strong. Like I’d said, of the royal line. But even then, for royal blood she was incredibly strong. She was…
She was the female equivalent of me.
Powerful and strong, but untamed.
Dangerous.
“What happened?” Agatha pleaded.
I ignored her though. We had to keep her calm. She had to remain controlled. If she awoke in a rage, or in fear, she may shift again. She was in a delicate time now. And with a wolf like hers? Excited to finally have freedom? She might hurt more than help.
“Roman, can you make a sleep mixture?” I said, heading over to him and the horses. “Until the moon passes we can’t risk her waking up. We need to bind her and keep her down…”
Agatha’s hands pulled at me, but I didn’t feel them. All I felt was the anger still surging in the sleeping form of Feyra.
We were all in danger now.