Chapter 20
Fern
Her wolf had never been happier, despite most of her circumstances being about as bad as they could get, and yet still would not give Fern a straight answer on whether she would shift that evening or not.
You heard Darion, Fern told her. He said that if we don’t shift, he’s going to do something permanent to us.
But her wolf rolled around, tongue hanging out of her mouth, as though Eidan had somehow left his scent in the grass outside her mental den.
Nest, her wolf reminded her, but would not speak to her concerns.
Her nerves picked up after lunch, when the dining hall was cleaned for the end of the day, benches raised and laid on top of tables as the Solvekh retreated to their quarters to prepare for the shift.
For there was no evening meal on the night of the full moon.
Vedia walked by on her way out, pivoting slightly towards Fern as she passed.
Fern braced for impact.
“Good luck tonight,” Vedia whispered out of the corner of her mouth, her eyes straight ahead and feet not slowing down.
Fern’s chest tightened as though she had been struck, and she dared not reply lest Vedia be caught speaking to her.
Her hands gripped the broom tightly as she closed her eyes, hoping to keep the relief of receiving sympathy off her face.
When she finally opened them and looked around, she noticed how strange it was for the dining hall to be empty this time of day.
And she wondered exactly what she was supposed to do with herself until the night. She wasn’t allowed in the Solvekh sleeping quarters, and it was hours until she was to meet Eidan here.
He’d told her that he would be the one to guide her through the shift that evening—if her wolf cooperated, that was.
“Your wolf is in there. I can feel her,” he told her that morning after leading her back downstairs. “She just needs the right coaxing.”
“Do other wolves need to be coaxed?”
“No,” he admitted. “But your wolf spent ten years in hiding, and has not had the best impression of her own kind since arriving here. I’m surprised she’s even bothered to make herself known at all.”
Her wolf chuffed. I’m stronger than I look.
When Fern snorted, Eidan eyed her curiously. “Something funny?”
“Just my wolf. She’s insulted you think so little of her.”
He chuckled. “Sounds like you two have a lot in common.” Then he gave her a chaste kiss on the temple before leaving. “I’m looking forward to meeting her.”
And so with nothing else to do, she proceeded as if it was just a normal day and pretended to sweep, watching dust motes float idly in the afternoon sun that streamed through the window. Fern reached out, her fingers slowly dancing between them.
It was hot, and after so many days without bathing, she figured that at least if things did not go well tonight, she could relieve Eidan of his “wolf-coaxing” duties and take advantage of having the castle and bathing room to herself.
It actually didn’t sound all that bad, now that she was thinking about it. She could eat whatever she wanted from the kitchen, and maybe take another dress or two and hide them somewhere for when the one she had became too filthy to wear any longer.
Although perhaps planning ahead wasn’t necessary, and Darion’s idea of a permanent solution for her second failed shift was her death.
That didn’t scare her as much as it probably should have.
When the sun set and the Solvekh emerged from their quarters underneath the kitchens, Fern realized that she didn’t have a cloak, nor anywhere to even change and leave her clothes.
Of course, she could be worrying for nothing and not shift at all.
She chewed her lip in thought as she watched them all march out.
Some stared at her with thinly veiled disgust, others pity, while most paid her no attention at all.
Until Mauricia emerged.
No friends were surrounding her as they had before. No hangers-on, desperate for her good fortune in becoming one of Kyntha’s attendants to trickle down to them.
No, she walked alone, her arms carefully wrapped around her stomach in a way to hide what Fern already knew was missing.
Mauricia looked at Fern for a mere second, and she expected to find hatred there.
But instead, her eyes appeared lifeless and defeated, and even with all she’d put Fern through, she couldn’t help but feel a little sad for her. Mauricia had trusted Kyntha enough to believe she would shield her from punishment, not understanding that she was simply a disposable means to an end.
A dark thought crossed her mind, and she averted her gaze, pretending to be sweeping as she wondered if she had put her trust in the wrong person as well.
Eidan didn’t seem to have any agenda aside from just being nice. But the longer she considered it, the more suspicious it seemed.
He’d admitted to being attracted to her, yet he would not petition for her.
But what other reason would a wolfkin have for such kindness? And it wasn’t like he needed to woo her if he had wanted her in his bed. An alpha could snap his fingers, and every woman in the castle and beyond would line up before him, ready and willing.
So why was he helping her?
Could she trust him?
Or would doing so lead her to lose more than a hand?
The wooden doors were shut behind the last Solvekh, the heavy thud echoing through the empty air.
And then she heard the breathing.
She looked up, expecting to see Eidan, but it was Harland who stared at her in nothing more than a loincloth.
His chest heaved as though he’d been running, his body covered in a thin sheet of sweat while his sharpened canine teeth looked longer than they had a few days ago.
But his eyes… they glowed. The wolf was taking over.
“She-wolf,” he rasped. “Tonight. You will shift, and Alpha Darion will have no choice but to make you mine.”
Fern froze, her mouth running dry. She took a step back, his head tilting slowly.
“G-good evening, sir,” she finally said, her voice catching for a moment. “Alpha Eidan will escort me to the shift, so you don’t have to worry about me.”
“Fuck Alpha Eidan!” he spat. “And fuck Alpha Darion. He may have marked you, but I claimed you as mine the moment I scented you in that tavern. I have waited long enough.”
He stalked closer and she stumbled a step back.
“It’s only the moon talking,” she replied in a soft, soothing voice. Fern dropped her broom and held out her open hands. “My wolf will come out when she’s ready—”
“I’ve been ready for two moons!” he shouted, and Fern instinctively made herself smaller, bowing her head in a way that exposed her neck.
And then, in fear… she whined.
The sound was like nothing she’d ever made before, so animalistic she thought her wolf had taken charge for just a moment.
But her wolf remained crouched low inside, ears flattened, and eyes wide as she observed the interaction.
He’s not for us, she whimpered. Not worthy.
Perhaps, but I’m not telling him that.
Especially since whatever she’d done had only spurred him on. He came closer, his wolf and the shift riding him hard. Something rippled briefly under his skin when he passed the window, the moon not quite out yet.
“Pups conceived as wolves are stronger, they say,” he growled. “My previous mate failed me thrice. I have a feeling you won’t disappoint me.”
Horror dawned on her so suddenly she had to cover her mouth to keep from making a sound.
His ex-mate… she must have been Rosen.
He’d resigned her to a fate as the Ashpaw, and here he was, about to take her losses out on Fern.
Harland stretched and twisted his neck, snarling to himself, and Fern took his quick distraction as a chance.
Stupid, but she couldn’t just stand there.
She bolted for the door, his dark laughter booming behind her.
“Aye, she-wolf! Run! I love a good chase.”
The heavy wooden doors rattled as she slammed into them, fumbling with the iron latch so violently her fingers slipped twice before it finally gave way and the cool evening air hit her face.
She bolted into the courtyard, while Harland’s taunts rang after her.
“You can do better than that!”
Her skirts tangled around her legs as she sprinted across the open stone, panic making everything feel wrong. Her breathing too loud and labored, her feet too slow, and the world too open.
Nowhere to hide.
Where was Eidan? The other wolfkin?
She realized too late she had run in the opposite direction of where they’d gathered.
The moon had not fully risen yet, but silver already bled across the horizon, staining the castle walls in pale light.
“Eidan?” she shouted hoarsely.
But there was no answer, only the pounding footsteps behind her.
She glanced back once to see how close Harland had gotten, terror nearly seizing her entirely.
For he was not even running. He walked after her at an easy pace, barefoot and broad-chested, his pupils blown wide enough to swallow nearly all the amber. Veins stood dark beneath his skin, muscles twitching erratically beneath flesh that no longer seemed to fit him properly.
He inhaled deeply through his nose.
“You smell frightened now,” he groaned. “Delicious.”
Fern veered sharply around the corner of a stone outbuilding, nearly slipping in the damp grass beyond the courtyard. The castle grounds stretched wide beneath the rising moon—training fields, sparse trees, low stone walls.
Too much space, and too many places for something faster than her to hunt.
“There’s no need to make this so difficult,” Harland called conversationally. “If you’d just let me catch you, I’d breed you and we’d both be satisfied.”
Her stomach twisted, and she ran harder.
Branches slapped against her arms as she plunged through a sparse line of trees bordering the practice grounds. Somewhere behind her came another laugh—
Then silence.
Fern’s pulse stumbled.
Silence was worse. Far worse.
She slowed for one second, straining to hear. There was nothing, only the wind and the pounding of blood in her ears.
And then something crashed through the underbrush to her left.
Fern screamed and stumbled backward, while Harland grinned at her from atop a boulder, head tilted.
“Very delicious. I’m ready to finally have a taste.”
He leapt down and she ran again.
Her lungs burned almost immediately, her legs threatening to give out. Roots snagged her slippers, and her dress tore somewhere along the hem.
Behind her, Harland no longer bothered pretending restraint. His breathing had roughened into panting snarls and the moon climbed higher.
Then something wet snapped inside the dark.
Harland dropped to one knee with a cry that was half agony, half ecstasy.
Fern slowed despite herself, watching in abject horror as the beast finally took over.
“Run,” he growled through sharpening teeth, his jaw snapping with a sickening series of pops while fur rippled over his skin. “RUN!”
Terror hit her so hard her vision blurred.
This was no longer some twisted game between wolves.
She was prey. As in, to be killed, eaten, and digested.
She ran blindly through the trees as massive paws thundered behind her now, hard enough the ground itself seemed to shake.
But they were too fast, too determined to catch her.
A snarl exploded somewhere close enough she felt the heat of breath at her back.
Fern sobbed, Please please please…
Her wolf remained frozen inside her own den.
Not safe, not safe.
“I know!” Fern cried aloud.
Claws tore through the back of her dress.
She pitched forward hard enough to skin both palms on the ground, pain exploding through her knees.
Before she could rise, a massive weight slammed down ahead of her.
Harland, or what remained of him inside his beast.
Moonlight gleamed across enormous black fur, and saliva dripped from jaws large enough to crush her throat in a single bite. His ears were pinned forward and his eyes burned molten gold as he paced toward her.
He was toying with her, even now.
Fern scrambled backward desperately, shaking so hard her teeth chattered, and the wolf stalked closer.
Please…
Then Harland lunged, and something inside Fern finally broke, the world splitting apart in blinding sensation.
Her spine arched violently and heat tore through every limb, her dress ripping at the seams as bones twisted beneath flesh. Her scream collapsed into a sharp animal cry as instinct flooded her body so completely it drowned all her thoughts.
Her wolf surged forward at last, fur bursting across her skin, and the forest exploded with scent.
Earth, moss, moonlight, blood…
Wolf.
Harland skidded to a halt only feet away, shock flashing across his monstrous face as Fern stood on trembling legs.
Not as a woman, but a wolf.
Small compared to him, but still a wolf.
Her golden fur bristled high as fear and instinct collided violently inside her chest.
And then came a word. Just one. A word that explained everything and yet nothing at all.
A word Harland and her wolf knew the second he said it, piercing her mind like an arrow.
Omega…