Chapter 5 Meryn #2
“That was a grave situation. You had not yet attempted to share memories across pack lines and were unsure of how to do it yourself, and they needed to be informed immediately. I will not reach out to other riders like that again, and I’ve already apologized to their direwolves.
However, yes, you and I can both theoretically reach any rider or wolf since we are the royal pair. ”
I’m almost scared to ask but… “And Stark’s feelings? His thoughts and emotions? Will those reach me the way that yours can?”
Anassa shakes her head. “Not in the same way. It is not an easy flow, like our connection, and you cannot hear his thoughts outside of intentional communication, nor can he hear yours. More intense emotions may reach you on occasion. The nature of the bond makes all our connections porous.”
I settle back in against her fur as I ponder that. At least that answers my question about whether he could read my thoughts during several recent moments. He must be able to guess what I’m thinking.
Frankly, that’s almost as disturbing. Am I that easy of a read? Or… does he know me better than I realized?
My eyes start to droop closed. What a long day it’s been. The first full day as queen, and an utter disaster from beginning to end.
“Anassa,” I say quietly. “Since your mother was the direwolf of the last queen, do you have any inherited wisdom for me? What do I need to know about being queen?”
Anassa snorts air through her nose. “I was just a pup when Queen Chiara died. I know nothing about ruling. We shall have to figure it out together.”
I sigh and scratch my fingers through her thick fur. “You and me, huh?”
Anassa’s ears twitch around, and she perks up. Her eyes land on the door. “Your friends are approaching.”
“Oh, finally,” I say lightly, and head to the door. I called for them hours ago. I hear Anassa stand and shake herself and then pad back outside.
I open the door just as someone knocks and am nearly knocked off my feet by the sheer force of Izabel throwing herself at me.
“I’ve been hit enough times today, Iz,” I say with a laugh, gently disentangling myself from her.
Pulling back, I survey my best friend, making sure she’s safe after the shit show earlier. Her long, black hair is in a tight ponytail, exposing the elegant line of her neck—not a scratch on it. She narrows her deep brown eyes, clearly doing the same thing I am.
“Are you okay?” we ask at the same time.
“Wow, you’re like twins,” Tomison says with a playful smirk as he enters the room. He throws an arm around Izabel’s shoulders that she quickly shrugs off, tossing him an irritated look.
Venna steps up, rolling her eyes. “Ha, ha.” She’s Izabel’s actual twin—an identical mirror image, except Venna’s sleek hair is cut in a short bob and streaked through with dark blue, marking her as a member of Kryptos, unlike the rest of us Strategos pack members.
“Here,” Nevah says, stepping through the threshold and thrusting a bottle of emberwine in my direction. “Figured we could all use this after today.” She glances around my room and lets out a low whistle. “They just keep upgrading you, huh, Cooper?”
I grab the bottle from her and lead my friends into the main sitting area of the room. While they loudly admire my new chambers, I uncork the bottle and pour us all glasses. Then we sit down on the rug by the fire.
The moment I’m settled, Izabel grips my shoulders, looks me in the eye, and says, “I’m going to execute Killian for what he did.” My eyes widen. “I’m serious. Blood everywhere. They won’t find his body.”
“You don’t want to send a message with it?” Tomison jokes.
“Okay, they’ll only find his head,” Izabel says, a disturbing expression on her face.
Maybe I shouldn’t be so warmed by an offer of brutal murder, but I am. “You’ll have to get in line,” I tell her with half a smile.
She rolls her eyes. “Fine, but at least leave me something to stab.”
“Noted, keep pieces of his body for target practice.”
Nevah crosses her arms, her face troubled. “How did he even get out of here, anyway?”
I fill them all in on what happened between us in his chambers, making sure to face Venna—who’s hard of hearing—so that she doesn’t miss a word. Then I remind them of the memory I shared to all the Bonded of him disappearing in a swirl of shadow.
Venna tilts her head, her hair just brushing her shoulder. “It sounds almost like rifting. You know, how we Kryptos manipulate light and shadow to mask our locations and hide ourselves.”
She’s right—just like in the arena, when the older Kryptos woman was disappearing and reappearing. “That’s what it’s called, rifting? But that’s just a cover, right? You can’t disappear and reappear in a different location?”
“No,” Venna says, her tone contemplative.
“Killian said…” His name tastes foul on my tongue. Shaking it off, I continue, “He said that the pack’s powers were ‘rent from my own.’ I wonder if this ability is like some heightened, extreme version of what Kryptos can do.”
Venna nods. “That would make sense.”
“Only one way to find out,” Tomison says. “Give it a go!”
Izabel smacks him in the chest. “You idiot. How can she use a power she doesn’t even understand?”
“I agree with Iz,” Nevah says. She bites her lip in concern and then continues, “After what happened in the arena, Mer—”
I raise a hand, cutting her off as I grow faint from the reminder. All that power, wielded so casually. All those deaths on my hands. I’ve barely let myself think about it since Stark found me in his office this morning.
Images of their bodies rise before my eyes, and I scrub my hands over my face, willing away the panic that quickly follows.
“I know,” I say, my pulse pounding. “My power—my strength—is dangerous. Fatal, even. And I don’t have control of it yet. I shouldn’t attempt anything too far outside of what we know the packs can do. I’d possibly risk my own life and others’.”
Nevah shoots me a tight, conciliatory smile. “You’ll get there.”
“Speaking of,” Tomison jumps in. “Did anyone else notice the pack powers acting a little… funny today?”
Izabel and Nevah look reflective. Venna nods. “It was easier to rift than usual. I wasn’t sure if it was just adrenaline or something, or all the time I’ve spent practicing?”
“One of the Daemos riders sent a blast of power toward me and Iz, and it almost looked like it rebounded on him somehow,” I add. “He was knocked off his wolf. I don’t know, maybe it’s the power of the crown, amplifying and changing Bonded magic or something?”
There’s an awkward pause, and I don’t think I’m the only one remembering just how many people were killed at once by my own increased powers. I clear my throat. “Look, I need to talk to you all about something.”
Tomison gives me a playful salute. “Yes, oh, queen?”
“Goddess, shut up,” I grumble, but it makes me smile.
They’re still treating me like me, and it only reaffirms my decision to raise this with them. Does that erase my nervousness? Not entirely.
“Listen, most of the former Rawbonds will ship out to the front tomorrow.” Out with it. “But I’d like the four of you to stay with me. At the castle. If you’re willing.”
They’re all silent, eyes wide.
The word vomit lurches up my throat. “You don’t have to. This isn’t an order. But I really need friends I can trust around me right now. Desperately, actually. And I trust you four with everything I—”
“Yes,” Izabel says. “We wouldn’t leave you to deal with all this royal bullshit alone.” What an Izabel way to put it.
“Obviously, yes,” Tomison adds.
Nevah nods. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
Venna doesn’t have an immediate answer, but even still, my shoulders relax.
“Oh good. I apparently have a group of advisors called the Council Palast that I’m supposed to fill.
King Cyril staffed it with his relatives, so I thought perhaps you all could help me—at least as interim support, for now, until we find proper advisors. ”
“Sounds highly important,” Izabel says. “Do tell, what kind of advising will you require?” She lifts her glass of emberwine, taking a large sip.
“Well, apparently one of the Council’s duties is arranging castle events and ceremonies.”
Izabel chokes on her drink. “Excuse me, party planning? You’re keeping us back from the front to plan parties? Having a queen for a friend really fucking rocks.”
Tomison and Nevah laugh, and my gaze drifts to Venna, who has been glaringly silent this entire time. She’s watching each of our faces as we talk, her expression unreadable.
“Ven?” I ask, knocking my shoulder into hers. “What are you thinking?”
She turns toward me and smiles faintly. It doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “It’ll be great, Meryn. I’ve been meaning to ask you, though, how’s Saela?”
Her concern slams into me. My jaw tightens. I don’t know how to answer her, but of course she’d ask. She helped Stark rescue Saela from the dungeons.
The truth is overwhelming. And worse, it’s dangerous.
I trust my friends, but Saela’s current state is sensitive information.
If the knowledge that my sister is a Siphon got out, even accidentally, it could put her life in danger. People would call for her head, not to mention the damage it would do to my reputation as a queen standing in opposition to the Siphons, to Killian.
I hesitate, feeling shaky. “Saela is resting, and it will probably be a while until she’s ready to be around people. The… trauma of her captivity affected her, and she needs time to recover.” I hope that didn’t sound too calculated.
Venna winces. “I’m sorry. Let us know if there’s anything we can do to help.”
“Whatever you need,” Nevah chimes in. And all I can do is nod.
The mood is dampened after that, and I’m not even surprised when Tomison—usually the one to keep a party going—says, “It’s getting late. We should probably let our regent here get her beauty sleep.”
We all hug goodbye, but as everyone is making their way out the door, I grab Venna’s elbow and hold her back. When she’s turned to fully face me, I ask, “Can we talk alone for a minute?”
She nods, shutting the door after Izabel.
This is a little awkward.
Izabel and I are closer friends, in part because we’re in the same pack.
Venna’s always spent time with us Strategos, but she has her Kryptos packmates.
Her own friends and mentors—not to mention lovers.
I know she gained quite the reputation there during the Trials.
It’s possible she’s attached to someone, someone heading to the front.
Venna and Izabel get lumped together so often by virtue of being twins, and that’s not fair to either of them.
Izabel is an open book, but Venna’s not. She’s never been.
And the truth is, I don’t know what she wants.
Taking a deep breath, I say, “Venna, if you want to go with everyone else to the front, I’ll understand. I’m aware that it’s kind of hard to say no to me now. So are you sure you want to stay?”
Venna fiddles with the hem of her shirt, not looking me in the eye.
“I do. Honestly, the idea of being away from Izabel is awful, even though I’m sure it’s inevitable.
But the four of you are all in Strategos, all natural leaders.
Am I actually going to be helpful for you as a Kryptos, or are you just keeping me back because I’m Izabel’s twin? ”
Relief courses through my body. “I asked you to stay because I want you. Of course you’ll be helpful. You’re the cleverest of all of us, by far. I’ll make sure you have things to do that are not just event planning.”
She laughs. “Thank you. Staring down a battalion of Siphons sounds preferable to being dragged along by Izabel as she figures out seating arrangements or whatever.”
“Actually,” I say, thinking out loud, “you can help me right away.” I hold up my wrist and the deadly bracelet glinting on it. “I need to figure out how to get this off. There’s some sort of magic to it, and I can’t remove it.”
Venna nods. “I’m on it. Also… I’m happy to spend some time with Saela once she’s better. Can I help you keep her busy? Maybe, I don’t know, teach her sign language or something?”
My throat tightens. I don’t know how soon I can take her up on that offer. “That sounds nice. I’ll—I’ll let you know when she’s ready.”
We hug and say good night, and I vow to use this extra time with my friends to get to know them better, now that we’re not all facing near certain death daily as we were in the Trials.
Left with my own thoughts, it’s impossible to avoid the heavy weight of grief that crowds back in. My chambers are thick with it, as if I’m breathing it in like air.
My mind is with Saela all the way until I’m climbing into bed and beginning to submit to the heavy drag of sleep.
The moment I close my eyes, unconsciousness takes me like a rolling blackout. It isn’t natural. Ice streaks over my brain.
I open my eyes, panic skittering through me.
My breath catches as I realize I’m not in the Sovereign Alpha’s rooms anymore. I’m in the same shadowy dreamscape that keeps taking me. The world is indistinct but immediate, indefinable but pressing in on me with a grip I recognize.
I look around, wary. Any moment, the deep, disembodied voice I’ve heard before will say something. I’ll hear his terrifying voice echo through the dark.
But another voice comes in its stead, one all too familiar.
“Hello, kitten.”
My blood goes cold. Nausea slinks up my throat.
Killian emerges from the shadows, his face as coldly beautiful as ever.
His golden hair is pushed back from his face, showing off his high cheekbones and his now unnaturally bright blue eyes—a color they took on when his ancestor, Alistair Brightbane, passed into Killian’s body through some Siphon body-transference magic.
His full lips tilt up into a loving smile, revealing the tips of his new fangs. He spreads his arms for an embrace.
Once, I’d have gone to him, fallen into his arms, begged him to hold me.
I’ve finally learned my fucking lesson.
“I’ve missed you,” he purrs.