Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
Seven
G one.
They have both gone— taken .
The air crackles. Jude shifts to his bipedal beast form. He throws his head back and howls.
Nox, likewise, shifts to his stag beast and issues a baying battle cry.
My pain is no less than theirs. I lock it down and focus on the facts because I need to, because there is no option but to get them back, safe and unhurt.
A bitter laugh wants to bubble up. Unhurt? How is that even possible? Eiden will be reliving a nightmare every second he is captive. And Fawn will be experiencing a new one, made all the worse for her closeness to Eiden, for her natural empathy and love. I want neither of them exposed to monsters like Eiden’s siblings.
We gather in the constable’s office. The door remains open under the constant stream of captains as the usually unruffled alpha barks orders and sends men scurrying. “Lock the gates! Post guards on all smuggler operations!”
“Marigold was seen in the Royal Woodland,” Gideon says as he enters the room in a rush; his dark complexion is ashen. “One of the gardeners recognized her. He went to report it to the guards on the garden entry, which is when he found them dead and raised the alarm.”
“You said she was not a target,” Wolf snarls. “This might have nothing to do with Eiden. It might be a game by your scorned lover out for retaliation.”
“A report this morning suggests otherwise. Marigold was seen meeting with a criminal gang. We saw two of Eiden’s brothers meet with the same gang last week. They are likely working in collusion… It is also possible she was playing me to gain access to Eiden and or the palace. To make herself a familiar presence to facilitate their plan.”
Wolf growls, but I don’t shy away from the facts. “Marigold never meant more to me than a passing moment of pleasure. It hurts to be used merely as a means to an end. My personal slight is nothing compared to knowing I have unwittingly played a role in the capture of Eiden and Fawn… I will have to live with that, bear that burden, but I will bury the guilt until after we have them returned.”
“We will get them back,” Ambrose says, voice thick with determination.
“Damn right we will,” Nox says, voice cold as winter’s bite. “If I have to rip the city apart a brick at a time. We will get them back.”
Eiden
My ears are ringing, and the world is muggy like I’m trapped underwater. My mouth is dry, my tongue unnaturally thick, and my eyelids heavy. As my pounding head lolls to the side, it brings a deluge of fresh pain and a foul taste to the back of my throat…
The memories come flooding back: the garden, the sense of malaise, Fawn’s cry, a net coming over me, tangling my antlers and hooves. Their clubs beating me to the ground as I thrashed helplessly, followed by the noxious scent filling my nose and lungs.
I’m naked on my knees, my hands bound behind my back. Through blurry eyes, I glimpse stone, windowless walls, flickering sconces, and shadowy figures.
I lean forward and heave up over the floor.
“Eiden!”
My ears are still ringing. I hear voices, but it’s like they are coming from far away… or maybe a dream. I gulp for air, still heaving, trying to gather my wits.
A blow lands across my shoulder blades. I choke on my vomit—another blow—I heave up more before the pain overrides the heaving sensation.
I spit out the bitter taste from my mouth.
Whatever they forced me to breathe snatched away consciousness and returned me to my human state.
I know what this is about even before I blink the world into better focus and see my brothers standing there: Onis, Torden, Crael.
What I don’t expect is the woman standing at the end, leaning possessively into Crael—Marigold.
Bitch.
Onis is the oldest. Like my father, he has dark hair, as does Torden, who is younger by a year. While the youngest of the three, Crael, has golden hair, just like mine. Their expressions range from bitter fervor to a familiar disgust.
Emotions I fully reciprocate even as I quake.
The ringing in my ears finally begins to fade. I take stock of my situation. There is only one way out of the cell: a wooden door with a small, barred window, which I have every reason to believe is locked and guarded on the other side. Worse, I have a terrible, blooming awareness of where in the city we have been brought.
My stag snorts his disapproval. Do they think the chains will contain him? Do they think we are still weak? He will rip apart anyone who dares to stand in his way…
“Eiden?”
The gentle inquiry lances through my wildly beating heart, cutting short my stag’s surge of righteous fury. My head jerks to the side and the source of the voice. No, she cannot be here, not my sweet Fawn. She was never meant to be exposed to monsters.
Inside my stag bays. I lurch toward her, seeking to put myself between her and the danger… only to come to an abrupt, painful stop, finding my wrists connected by a chain to the wall.
The omega side of me is sinking into desolation.
My stag is slamming at the chains of imprisonment.
Only I dare not release him. Not when kneeling beside me, her scent curdled with the poison they forced us to breathe, is the woman I love.
My scent match.
My omega mate.
My stag rails with renewed vigor, testing my inner chains. Completely feral, he wants blood. The bindings they probably think hold me are nothing to my inner beast in this state.
But I cannot yield to him. He would kill my brothers.
He also might hurt Fawn.
Once he freed me, Nox taught me well. He showed me how to battle, kill, and destroy. If I were alone here against my adversaries, I would not hesitate to unleash my stag, even knowing where they hold me.
But I’m not alone in this.
Devastation leeches into me like the cold from the stones beneath me.
Inside, my stag bays his frustration. He doesn’t understand why I will not let him out.
“Your quarrel is not with her. Let her go.”
Crael laughs. He was always the cruelest of my brothers, who saw my affliction as a personal slight.
Marigold smirks, leaning up on her toes to kiss his throat as she strokes her fingers down his chest. “Let her go?”
I never liked the doe well. Oh, she is pretty enough. Seven fucked her on occasion. Then again, she had many lovers within the palace, as did Seven. Her vindictive side was exposed after Seven forbade her from entering his rooms, and she paid him back by feeding Fawn lies.
Still, who among us might have anticipated this?
My life has gone full circle. The misery of my past bears down upon me and renders me impotent. I am stuck between two states. I need them to let her go… A horrifying awareness blooms as I understand they will not.
I cannot let them hurt her.
I cannot be the one to hurt her, either.
Marigold’s face twists, making her ugly. “Why would we let the little toy go?” she says. “Sweet little omega doe.” She caresses Crael’s chest. “Crael should take her first. And then your older brothers may have a turn. All while you watch.” She laughs. “Pitiful, Eiden, thinking you have some say in this. Time to wipe your filth from the earth. But first some fun—some payback for what you did.”
Her cruelty toward me reignites old wounds. My sense of worthlessness swamps me. Pitiful Eiden. Leech. Weak. Should have been drowned at birth. Unworthy.
Seven and Nox delivered me from hell once and showed me light and love, but today, I’m cast back into darkness again.
Only my sweet niece is no longer with me, sneaking me a crust of bread and offering kind words. No, today with me is Fawn.
“Let her go. You can do anything with me. I don’t care.”
“Eiden, no,” Fawn whispers. “I will not leave you with them.”
My brave, sweet Fawn, using her love like a shield in this terrible place.
I could not love her more.
I would die for her, willingly, if my life might save her.
Only how?
Tears begin to spill down my cheeks.
Worthless cur.
You are no son of mine.
“Pathetic,” Onis sneers.
I cling to a fantasy in which Seven, Nox, and Jude storm this cold, stone cell, liberating us and taking Fawn to safety.
How much time has passed?
Has our absence even been noted?
I can only presume that Marigold used her familiarity among the staff to gain access to the gardens, knowing that we run there every afternoon.
We were complacent. Foolish.
Look where that has led us.
I wish I had died back then. I wish Seven and Nox had never come upon me and saved me that day.
I would suffer a lifetime of abuse—an eternity in hell, anything. For if they had never met me, Fawn would never have been brought into this.
Wolf
I have faced danger before, gone into battle, knowing that the odds were poor. I’ve seen people I know die, some of whom I cared for like a brother.
The world is full of dangers. They are constants within a wolf pack, holding your land against adversaries, but also inner conflicts that threaten to tear the delicate balance and order apart.
But I never had a mate before.
It is like pressure, so great I wonder how I can bear it—a constant churning in my gut as I push down rage and bleakness to focus on the facts of the task, for there is no room here for weakness while Fawn is gone.
It is not only about Fawn but a young stag shifter, too.
I want to blame Eiden.
I want to blame Seven and Nox.
I want to blame her mother for writing that damn letter. If Fawn was in the wolf pack, I could have kept her safe.
But if there is no time for weakness, there is no space for allocating blame. What ifs? They only lead to darkness and inaction. If the Goddess is benevolent at times, she is also cruel. She places tests before us, seeking to gain a measure of our mettle.
If this is a test, I am determined to pass.
Two lives hang in the balance, and three others will be left broken if those two are lost.
The city is on lockdown, with the roads leading in and out barred. No point in pretending their absence has not been noticed. Many hours have passed. The actions we take will have been expected and anticipated. These enemies will have a plan for it, either to lie low somewhere or make an escape.
The plot does not appear to move further than revenge, and that is something, at least. The gardeners have been questioned, and witnesses have been brought forward. All the while, the streets are being combed, the hovels where the criminals hide—those known to have fraternized with these people we seek, and even those that are not—have their lairs turned over and are put to question.
Time is of the essence. Every moment they are held is a moment too long, a moment during which their hearts, minds, and possibly even their bodies are being wounded.
I cannot think about that.
I have to be strong in ways that I never comprehended before.
The urge to run out blindly and comb the streets myself is unbearably strong, even as stupid as that would be.
“We have a lead,” Nox says, striding into the constable’s office where Seven and I are talking to a soldier reporting back from the streets.
“Where?” Seven says.
“Wormwood District.”
Seven blanches. “We locked the entries down.”
“Not fast enough,” Nox says grimly. “A woman and man matching their description were seen being taken into a warehouse by one of our contacts.”
Their tense expressions fill me with fresh dread. I soon noted that the city had secrets, that a darkness lurked beneath the pretty facade. Everywhere has secrets. I did not delude myself into thinking the stag city would be different.
There are no patrols within Wormwood, but undercover spies live and work there, reporting through a network back to Ambrose.
“I’m not afraid to enter,” I say, my words ringing with challenge.
“It’s not about that,” Seven says, his eyes bleak. “Wormwood is a warren. The gateway in and out is heavily guarded, but underneath is a maze of interconnected passages and the former sewer systems. Miles upon miles, most of it undocumented, tunneled out and expanded since we withdrew.”
“If they have been taken down there,” Nox says grimly. “Finding them will be…”
He trails off. Not wanting to voice what we are all thinking, what I am only now understanding.
If they have been taken down underground, we may never find them again.