Chapter 11 Meryn
MERYN
Before I can coax my brain into deciding one way or another, Stark turns away from me and stands. The electricity fizzles out. My hand slips from his hair as he goes.
It hurts. More than it should, honestly. If that had gone any further, it would have been a mistake.
I don’t have a heart left to give, and Stark does not seem like the type to settle for pieces of a person. He’s controlled and demanding. He’d want it all.
Plus, it seems very likely that he has someone already.
I sit up, wincing. His body is rigid, his back to me as I pull my shirt down over my fresh tattoos. It’s silent between us again. He reaches up and smooths his hand over his hair, right where I touched him, as if to erase the evidence.
I chew my lip. Did I imagine that light in his eyes? Am I seeing things now, mind muddled by the mate bond between Anassa and Cratos?
“Be safe,” I say to the wall. “On your travels… with Noemi.”
The last part comes out more biting than I intended. Now is not the right time to question him about their relationship, but curiosity is eating me alive.
Stark turns halfway back toward me, his face an unreadable mask. “If I could avoid leaving, I would. It’s…” He lets out a frustrated grunt.
“What?” I push.
His eyes rise to mine, and there’s pain in his dark gaze. “My duty is protecting you, Meryn. It feels shitty to leave you here. But getting the nobles to agree to come and legitimize your claim, that’s a way of protecting you, too.”
I blink, a little surprised that our relationship would cause him anything but exasperation and annoyance. My mouth goes dry as we stare at each other for a too long, weirdly heated moment. I can hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
He breaks it by saying, “Be careful around the Sovereign Alpha, okay? She’s always in service of her own ends.”
Seriously, what is their deal? It seems like he loathes his mother. But we don’t have time to talk childhood trauma tonight, nor do I think he’d welcome it openly, so I just nod.
He turns, and over his shoulder, he says, “Have a good night.”
I thud back onto the chaise. The sound of the door shutting echoes in my ears. There’s something wrong with you, my brain hisses.
I reach out to Anassa, to distract myself with that closeness that we’re just starting to cultivate. “Where are you?”
Our minds connect for mere moments before I yank myself away in embarrassment. Of course, she and Cratos would be saying their goodbyes, with him also heading out in the morning.
But dear goddess, I do not need to see that.
I reinforce the emotional wall between us that we use to keep out the mate bond. Maybe their private time was leaking through. Maybe that’s why I can’t shake the phantom sensation of Stark’s hot tongue tracing my ribs.
If only I believed that with any conviction.
In the morning, I fill Phylax Alpha Tormun in on everything I know about Killian and Alistair’s powers before he departs for his hunt. Then Siegrid summons me.
Summons. To the royal chambers, where she’s made herself comfortable. As if she were the queen.
I try not to chafe at that; after all, I stole her rooms first, and I don’t want anything to do with these ones. But as I reach up and knock on the door, I once again have the sense that I’m not really in charge here.
She opens the door quickly. “Come inside.”
Siegrid leaves the doorway. I step through and shut the door behind me, watching her stride across the room. She really does move like she owns the air around her.
Then, for the first time, I take in what are supposed to be my rooms.
The royal chambers are atrocious. Sure, some people might use other words to describe them. Elegant. Opulent. Glittering. Regal. But in my eyes, they’re an unnecessary extravagance.
Precious metals are everywhere. The furniture is all spindly and delicate-looking. Whoever crafted the chairs set up along the round table to my right clearly sacrificed comfort for style. The bed I spot in the other room is massive and canopied, big enough for ten people.
The worst part is the walls. Animal heads are mounted. Trophies. Mostly stags and elk, but there’s a fox, too. All of them have been taxidermized with jewels for eyes.
“What a waste,” I grit out, my head buzzing with the injustice of it. While the commoners of Nocturna struggled to keep themselves fed, the king placed precious gems in the bodies of dead animals and hung them as art.
Siegrid glances over at the taxidermy. “I agree,” she says, “not to mention how horrifically ugly they are. What do you want to do about it?”
I startle at her words. She’s actually asking me what I want to do, instead of telling me her plan?
“Sell it all,” I tell her. “Start with anything unnecessary in these chambers, and then we’ll go room by room through the whole castle. Surely some nobles and merchants can afford the dead king’s castoffs. We’ll put the proceeds back into the communities that need it, starting here in Sturmfrost.”
Siegrid nods. “I’ll inform Matron Alienor.” She takes a seat at the table, which is laden with food, then gestures to her side. “Sit.”
And I’m back to taking orders.
Still, I do as she says. Siegrid leans a forearm on the table. The look she gives me is severe but not unkind.
“We have three weeks until the castle is swarming with nobles. Three weeks to mold you. We must start immediately. Alienor will continue to instruct you in court etiquette, while I train you on your new powers. How is your access to the Bonded communication channels?”
My head spins at what she just said. “Uh… not great. I’m able to reach everyone, as you saw when I informed them of my identity, but it took an enormous amount of energy. And I’m still not sure how to reach individuals outside of my pack.”
Siegrid picks up a grape and chews it, thinking.
Eventually, she says, “It takes training to understand how to manipulate the new flow of conversation and connection. A pack’s connection is a river. As their Alpha, you can speak down the river, and your voice will reach your entire pack. I think you understand this already.”
I nod.
“As queen, or as Sovereign Alpha, you and I have access to a veritable sea of connection. You can reach everyone. You can reach the rivers of the separate packs. You can reach the tributaries that represent each Bonded individual.”
“In theory,” I grumble.
“Oh, it’s complicated, of course. Distance is an obstacle, though the magic you possess can overcome any distance with enough focus, as you’re already aware.
Additionally, while you can reach any Bonded, they cannot reach you unless you initiate contact first. You alone can open the channel, and you alone can close it. ”
“The exception being the mate bond,” I muse.
Siegrid gives me a long, unreadable look.
“Yes,” she says eventually, her tone uncharacteristically encouraging.
“Perhaps Anassa has informed you of that already. If your wolf has a mate bond, which it appears yours does, you can reach the mate’s rider and they may reach you as well.
You should make ample use of that uncommon connection. ”
There’s a spark in her eyes that unsettles me.
Before I can parse it, Siegrid swallows another grape and leans back in her chair.
“Individual will may be an obstacle as well. If someone doesn’t wish to speak with you, they are capable of erecting mental walls just as you might with your direwolf.
Though, you may be able to overpower such boundaries. ”
“I wouldn’t,” I say quietly.
Sigried doesn’t respond to that. “The only thing that will help you learn how to navigate the waters of communication is practice. Devotion to it. It is no fault of your own that you cannot manage the bonds as you are. You are weak.”
What a nice reminder that this woman is Stark’s mother.
“But you think I can change that.” I hope?
“Any muscle can be strengthened. We’ll work on this in our sessions together. You also need to practice your powers, as you now can harness the magic of any pack.”
I blink in surprise. “I can? Are you sure?”
Siegrid presses her lips together, as if frustrated by how little I know. “Of course. From what we know of the Sturmfrost Queens, you are the conduit of all Bonded pack powers. Have you noticed that everyone’s powers have strengthened now that you’ve reclaimed your place?”
It was apparent during the battle in the arena—the way that Kryptos woman went totally invisible, the unusual strength from the Daemos boy, the way Stark pulled down an entire archway—but I didn’t realize why it was happening until just now.
I let out a shaky breath. “Okay, so, what does being the conduit mean?”
She lifts a shoulder. “You have the same abilities as each of the packs, but heightened beyond what anyone else is capable of. You already know how to use the basic Strategos powers of foresight and strategy, but now you can extend the foresight and see further into the future. It’s a skill unique to you as the queen. ”
Surprised, I laugh. “I can see the future?”
“Sort of,” Siegrid says. “When you’re on the battlefield and the pack is working together, the foresight is always accurate—many minds looking into near events.
Alone, you can extend longer stretches of time.
But the future is not set in stone. You may not get a vision for a clear path.
And even then, the future you see might change.
It’s a helpful tool but also an imprecise power, so you should not rely on it often. ”
That would’ve been handy a few months ago.
Siegrid continues, “Now, you’ll learn how to tap into all the other pack powers and see how far you can take them. There’s rifting, the Kryptos art of concealment. Shielding, the Phylax defensive maneuver. Impelling, the strength that the Daemos wield.”
My throat is suddenly dry. I take a sip of ice water. That’s… a lot to learn. I’ve barely mastered my Strategos powers, and that took me four months. “And how exactly will I be learning this all?”