59. Chapter Fifty-Nine - Leigh
“Thank you,” Wilder murmurs.
I turn to him, my breath catching as our eyes lock.
The intensity of his gaze makes my pulse race.
His presence is comforting and intoxicating, like a cool breeze on a sweltering day, offering a momentary respite from the uncertainty surrounding us.
“For what?” I swipe my tongue across my suddenly dry lips.
The desire to kiss him is overwhelming, like a magnetic pull threatening to consume me.
But there’s so much we need to discuss, so many secrets I’ve buried deep within me these past weeks, which have festered like open wounds.
My anger over Stellan’s articles barely scratches the surface.
It is a mere fraction of the truth that yearns to be revealed.
“For working with Bennett. I know it was a tough decision for you, but despite his hangups, we need him,” Wilder says.
“Who knows what will happen at dawn?”
I swallow past the lump in my throat, the weight of my guilt pressing on me.
If I can’t convince Alden to switch sides by giving him the cure for Tanith, Zeus will ask me to surrender.
When I refuse, we will fight, and there’s a high likelihood I will lose several people I love.
After that, the Wolf Prince will take me prisoner.
Before that happens, I owe it to Wilder to tell him how I feel.
I take a deep breath and say, “It’s the least I could do after I ambushed you with Marlowe.”
Wilder’s face tightens.
I reach for his hand in a silent plea for forgiveness.
I exhale when he doesn’t pull away.
“Are you ready to talk to me?” Wilder asks.
I try to muster a smile, but it is a brittle, fragile thing.
“I have so much to?—”
The shrill ring of my phone cuts me off.
I silence the number I don’t recognize, but they call again.
Wilder sighs.
“Answer it. It could be the Council. Maybe Janus has changed her mind.”
“Hello?” I answer.
“Hello, sweetness,” Vane’s voice crackles through the speaker.
“Vane, I’m in the middle of something. Can I call you back?” I ask as Wilder’s brow wrinkles.
I shrug, having no clue why Vane wants to talk unless it’s to discuss Janus and the Council.
Did Janus tell them about the wolves?
“It concerns the cure,” Vane says.
His words are a promise and a threat.
I gasp.
Chiara’s search for the cure had been a closely guarded secret, not to disturb the fragile peace between our species.
But with Vane’s uncanny ability to uncover the truth, I should have known better than to keep it from him.
He’s likely angry, and the last thing I need is another enemy breathing down my neck.
“I was going to tell you?—”
“Chiara’s research got destroyed.” I fall silent at Vane’s interruption, the air in my lungs ripped away.
Our leverage against the wolves, the one thing we had to bargain with, is gone.
I refuse to believe it.
But why would Vane lie?
There’s a rustling noise, and a feminine voice fills my ear.
“Leigh, it’s Desiree.”
I place my hand against Wilder’s chest, barely able to hear her past the ringing in my ears, but I need his heartbeat to steady mine.
If there’s no cure, I have nothing to bargain with.
But maybe I could still talk to him—try to make him see that Zeus is his real enemy.
Tanith would still be a werewolf if it weren’t for his brother.
Except, who am I kidding?
I’ve given him no reason to trust me, either.
“Don’t panic. I have a plan to help,” Desiree says as a car horn blares.
I suck in a deep breath.
“Unless you can replicate your mom’s work, I don’t know?—”
“I am the cure,” she tells me.
I fist Wilder’s shirt.
His hands steady my shoulders.
“It’s a long story,” Desiree says in a rush, “but drinking my blood reverses the effects of vampire venom. We are on the way to the hospital now to catch my mom before the president’s mandatory shelter-in-place goes into effect. I’m sure she can package my blood for Alden to use.”
I shake my head.
Wait, what?
Janus ordered a shelter-in-place?
This country is a mess.
“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Desiree continues.
“I had trouble accepting it myself, but I promise you, I am what I say I am . . .” Vane’s muffled voice says something I can’t understand, and she quickly adds, “We just got to the hospital. I’ll be in touch once I know more.”
“Wait, Desiree—” I protest, but the line dies.
Wilder’s eyes search mine.
“Desiree is with Vane?” He’s not Vane’s biggest fan.
“Your sister is the cure. Something about her blood turns vampires back into humans.”
“Impossible,” Wilder breathes.
“I believe her.” It’s either trust Desiree or lose it all.
He nods, unconvinced.
But we cannot afford to be distracted.
Everyone is doing their part, and I need to do mine.
Alden may not stay asleep much longer.
Even though there’s no time, I need to say this.
“I am sorry about lying to you about your mom wanting my help funding research for a cure,” I blurt, even though there’s no time.
“I’ve been in a dark place after Don, and I am uncertain if I will ever fully heal, but I am trying. I should have told you about Alden’s proposal, Don’s letters, and about Gianna and Stellan, but I couldn’t find the words. I thought I could fix everything myself by finding Stellan’s mole. But I should have said something.”
Wilder rolls his lips between his teeth.
“I wish I could have been there more for you, Leigh.” I shrug.
He’s here now.
“But I’m not blameless either. I should have told you about how hard it was coming back here, about Eddo and Brigid, and everything. I just thought it would get easier if I dealt with it myself. You had so much going on, and I didn’t want to add to your burdens. Not when I thought it would scare you away.”
I palm his smooth cheek.
“You could never be a burden. That day, when we were together at the palace, I said I was yours. But after everything I’ve done, like pardoning Marlowe.” My voice trembles.
“Are you still mine? Can you forgive me and love me despite my flaws?”
“I am yours. Down to my very marrow.” He hugs me to him, a searing promise that brands my soul before he turns on his heel and leaves his bedroom.
“No kiss goodbye?” I challenge.
He smiles.
“This isn’t goodbye.” Then, without a second glance, he walks out of the room.
“Send Pallas in here!”
I lie down on Wilder’s bed.
His scent wraps around me like an embrace.
Isolde drapes a soft blanket over me while Pallas hovers nearby.
“In case you get cold,” she explains.
I need his Green Witch healing hands to knock me out, or else my racing mind will never let me go to sleep.
Then, Pallas steps forward.
He covers my eyes with his palm.
The warmth of his skin seeps into mine as he channels his magic, guiding me toward the realm of dreams.
“Sleep well, Your Majesty,” Pallas murmurs.
I focus on Alden, picturing his face in my mind’s eye, the cadence of his voice, and a haunting melody that fills my thoughts.
With the last remnants of my energy, I forge a bridge between us, a connection that will allow me to slip into his dreams, praying that the nightmares that haunt me do not plague him, too.