Chapter Forty-Five
The rain had stopped and the night had taken hold of the city, the full moon, a blue moon, hanging low over the river. It was a shame everyone in town was so committed to staying in all evening, I’d never seen such a beautiful sight.
‘You’re alive.’
Standing over me, Pamela Evans looked as though she might faint.
‘But you were bitten,’ she said as I rose slowly to my feet. ‘You lost so much blood.’
‘One thing I’ve noticed lately, there’s always more blood than you think there’s going to be,’ I replied, testing my arms and legs.
Nothing broken, nothing too bruised, the teeth marks on my arm completely healed with just a torn sleeve and bloody mess left behind to show a wound had ever existed.
I looked up and offered her a terse smile. ‘Shall we get on with the trial?’
‘How are you alive?’ she asked again, her thick accent dancing up and down the words. ‘How can this be?’
‘We did have to let your hostages go to avoid them being savagely murdered by Weres who couldn’t be held responsible for their own actions,’ I told her as the oaks unwound their branches and returned to their regular sentry positions.
As soon as she was able to push through a gap barely big enough for her body, Lydia raced over to my side, weather-beaten but stronger than ever. Jackson hung back, holding his mother upright as he brushed away the last of Astrid’s cloaking spell from her skin.
‘But in fairness, the wolf I’m supposed to have killed isn’t actually dead, so I was thinking maybe declare a mistrial?’
Pamela turned to see her eldest son, a furious wolf still bound to the oaks, raging against the Spanish moss restraints. If I released him, he would try to murder us both. It had to be as obvious to her as it was to me.
‘Cole,’ she said, her voice a whisper of regret. ‘What happened to you?’
‘Nothing good,’ I answered on his behalf. ‘But it was all his choice.’
When Pamela turned back to me, she had resumed her pack leader authority, chin raised, shoulders back.
Both her sons took after their mother. They shared her athletic build and unusual dark ash hair.
If she spent more time outdoors, her slightly sallow skin would have the same golden tone as theirs.
Her eyes though, were different. Or rather, the same.
One grey-green, one yellow gold. One for Wyn and one for Cole.
‘The lone wolf,’ she said. ‘Another Were dead at your hands.’
‘She’s not dead,’ I replied, tapping the ground with my foot. ‘She’s right down here, sealed up in a tunnel. I can take you to her whenever you’re ready, she’s yours to do with as you please. But before you decide what that is, you should know that she did kill a wolf.’
I pointed over to the body that lay between the cages and when she seized up, one hand pressed against her abdomen to keep her from doubling over, I felt her grief.
‘Cerian,’ she whispered. ‘No.’
Her emissary. The Were who came to Bell House to deliver terms and took Jackson with her. She had no reason to help me, only to see what was happening and do what was right.
‘Cerian saved my life,’ I said quietly, lowering my voice out of respect. ‘In case that means anything to you.’
The air hung heavy with Pamela’s silence. The empty cages, the dead wolf. One by one, the other Weres awoke, still groggy from whatever spell Astrid had used on them.
‘It’s an abomination,’ Pamela muttered, unhappy and somewhat unwilling to explain herself to me, ‘for a Were to use magic. We stick to the natural order of things. We don’t interfere like you do.’
‘If you can’t get the truth of it all from Astrid, maybe you can get it from Cole,’ I suggested. ‘I don’t want to interfere with anything. I’m just trying to live my life, that’s all I want.’
As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I understood they were true. What more could anyone ask for? But Pamela was unmoved.
‘Until you bring about the end of the world. And what then?’
Beside me, Lydia let out a growl any wolf would be proud of. The pack leader met it with a snarl of her own but Lydia Powell had never been intimidated by anyone, and she wasn’t about to start now.
‘Wyn said you didn’t believe in prophecies,’ I said, sending soothing energy Lydia’s way. ‘If that’s not true, you should know killing me won’t save anything. Take my life and the world ends. Let me live and we all have a chance.’
Pamela let out a harsh laugh. ‘You want me to trust a witch?’
‘I want you to trust me. Your emissary died to save my life. I could’ve killed Cole, I could’ve killed Astrid. I didn’t. Enough people have died.’
I thought of Ileen Stovell, the couple at Hilton Head, the witch in Norway and who knew how many others.
A dozen or so women, unphased Weres, appeared at the perimeter of the park and behind them, a whole battalion of wolves. The leader raised her hand in a clenched fist and they all held the line, the unphased Weres struggling almost as much as the wolves.
‘Since Cole Evans was not killed, the pack rescinds its accusation,’ Pamela declared, loud enough for all the wolves in the park to hear. ‘You are free to go.’
‘Before I do’ – I nodded at the cages when she stood back, her mouth a hard line – ‘Astrid said that was your doing.’
‘Whatever Wyn told you, he didn’t have his facts quite straight,’ she answered coolly.
‘When a Were is murdered, the punishment is a life for a life, but not your own. Had there not been … interference, your sentence would have been to choose which of the cages to open before the moon reached its peak.’
The reality of what she was saying hit so hard I staggered backwards two steps. They were going to make me decide whether to let Wyn phase and maul Alex to death, or save Alex and let her watch Cerian slaughter Jackson.
‘That’s horrific,’ I breathed. ‘It’s beyond cruel.’
‘This is not an age of mercy and I am not a merciful woman.’ Pamela stood tall, unwavering in the face of my disgust. ‘I make no apologies for doing what must be done. One day you will face difficult decisions and I hope for all our sakes you’re strong enough to make them.
You may leave. We will do the same when our business is through. ’
Lydia put an arm around my shoulders, guiding me away until I threw up my hands to stop her, suddenly aware that something was very wrong.
I spun around, glaring at Pamela. There were at least a hundred Weres surrounding the park, but the one quiet wolf that had laid down beside me while I was dying was nowhere to be seen.
‘Where is Wyn?’
‘A wolf in love with a witch is a danger to his pack.’ At last, there was a crack in his mother’s voice. ‘The traitor, Wyn Evans, will be exiled and his name will not be spoken again.’
‘No, you can’t,’ I protested, pushing my friend away. ‘It’ll kill him.’
Silently I searched until I found something that felt like him, smothered by another of Astrid’s spells, and already in more pain than I could bear.
‘One more thing you will have to learn to live with,’ Pamela said softly. ‘For someone who doesn’t want to interfere, you have managed to take both my sons from me. Impressive, witch.’
‘You can’t exile someone for falling in love,’ Lydia yelled when I couldn’t find the words. ‘That’s sick, it’s messed up. It’s not his fault.’
‘Not his fault?’ Pamela cackled but I could see the tears in her eyes. ‘Then please, I beg you, tell me whose fault is it?’
I had prepared for this eventuality but I wasn’t ready.
‘It’s my fault,’ I said, in so much pain I was almost able to believe my whole body had been smeared with Astrid’s dark magic again. ‘He isn’t in love with me, it’s magic.’
I thrust out an arm to hold Lydia back when she stepped forward, silently begging her to keep quiet with a quick glance.
‘He doesn’t love me and I don’t love him,’ I carried on, spitting out the words faster than I could breathe.
If I paused, even for a second, I wouldn’t be able to go through with it.
‘My grandmother and I, we cursed him. We knew he was from a Were family long before you initiated him and we thought he might be useful, that’s all.
He could never love me, a wolf could never love a witch. ’
‘And a witch could never love a wolf,’ she replied, eyes boring into me. ‘I told them all there had to be more to this.’
‘I may be a lot of things but I’m not a complete monster,’ I said, choking on my words when she checked over her shoulder and signalled to one of the women at the park’s perimeter.
‘I don’t delight in splitting up families.
My mom died when I was a baby, I lost my dad and my grandmother recently.
You’ve already mourned Cole and now you have his mess to deal with.
There’s no reason for you to lose Wyn. He’s a harmless kid. Sweet, really. He’s suffered enough.’
Pamela moved towards me, a shred of furious hope in her eyes. She wanted to be convinced but she wasn’t, not yet. I had to make her believe me.
‘Consider it a peace offering,’ I added. ‘I’ll release him from my magic and in return you and your wolves will stay out of Savannah for good.’
‘I want your curse lifted and I want it done now.’ She spoke loudly over the murmurings of her pack, her authority not to be questioned. ‘We’ll see if you’re telling the truth.’
She raised her hand and two of the women appeared, dragging Wyn between them.
The gaping wound that had almost severed his shoulder from his body when his own brother dragged him from my bed was mostly healed, magically mended by his phase, but somehow he stood before me in human form.
All the other males had phased, including Cole, who still howled, high-pitched and hateful, from his prison across the park.
‘An exiled wolf does not have the right to phase with his former pack,’ Pamela explained, her voice flat and emotionless, as Wyn looked up at me with empty eyes. ‘He was unphased. Disorientation is to be expected and better than what’s in store for him if you are lying to me.’
‘Emily?’ Wyn choked out my name, a flicker of light returning to his eyes.
I snatched back a sob. In the depths of his darkest moment, he knew me. When he was a wolf, he knew me. Always and forever, he would know me. But after tonight, he would never, ever forgive me.
‘Do it,’ his mother commanded. ‘Whatever it is, right now.’
‘What’s happening?’ Wyn asked as I reached into my pocket for the healing poultice I’d blended for him.
There was no reason to make this hurt any more than it had to.
Sprinkling the herbs into the palm of my hand, I smeared them against the still sticky blood on his chest, took his hands in mine and pulled him close.
‘Tell him,’ Pamela shouted. ‘Tell him to his face!’
‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered, resting my forehead against his then raising my voice for everyone to hear. ‘My grandmother cursed you and I used you. This, all of this, it’s a lie. I never loved you.’
In his depleted state, he only looked bewildered.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘It’s a spell,’ I said, holding back traitorous tears. ‘You don’t love me, you only think you do because you were useful – and now you’re not. In fact, you’re a burden. I release you.’
‘She’s lying,’ he said, summoning a scrap of strength to turn around, challenging any wolf that dared look at him. There weren’t very many. ‘Can’t you see? It’s so obvious. She’s lying so you’ll leave us alone.’
When no one responded, he turned back to me, clutching at my face, holding me to him so closely, his perfect features were just a blur.
‘Stop it,’ he begged as I turned my head away. ‘Don’t say it. We’ll be OK, you and me, one way or another, we’ll be OK. Even if they take me away, if they exile me, you know I’ll always come back to you. I will always come back to you.’
I let him pull me into his arms one last time, completely still as his hands raked through my hair, grasped my shoulders, trying to find purchase on something that had already slipped out of reach.
‘I love you, Emily James,’ he said, holding me so tightly I was sure I would break. ‘Nothing you can say is ever going to change that.’
‘I love you, Wyn Evans,’ I breathed, the only words from tonight he would not remember. ‘And I wish that were true.’
Without letting go, I looked up to the sky through glassy eyes and summoned the clouds to cover the blue moon, turning it blood red.
Around the park, the phased wolves whimpered.
Staring at a spot beyond his shoulder, avoiding his chameleon eyes, the constellation of freckles on his nose, the curl of hair by his ear, I spoke one word I’d hoped to never utter.
‘Relēssen.’
The whole park shook.
‘Wyn Evans, I release you.’
The sound that echoed out of his body would haunt me for the rest of my life.
A symphony of pain, excruciating to witness, and as Wyn fell to his knees, clutching at his chest, only breathing in long enough to scream out again, I watched.
My face impassive, I refused to let myself cry.
If so much as a single tear fell from my face, the pack would question my version of events, he would be exiled and this pain, this agony, would be for nothing.
After a hundred lifetimes had passed, the clouds moved away from the moon and it lit the park with violent clarity. Wyn lay at my feet, blessedly unconscious. His mother fell to her knees, pressing his hand to her chest.
‘Go,’ she ordered, without looking up at me. ‘We’re done.’
‘What about Astrid?’ I asked, shaking with the effort of ignoring Wyn.
‘She’s a lone wolf, she’s no concern of ours.’
‘But she’ll die if you leave her down there. There’s no way in or out unless I take you.’
‘Then she’ll die.’
The pack leader stood, drawing herself up to her fullest height, as the two women picked Wyn up from the ground, the pair of them ashen-faced. This was not the evening anyone had been anticipating.
They moved as one, Pamela leading the way out of the park while a group of six or seven subdued Cole, still bound, dragging him behind them while the wolves already phased melted away into the deserted city.
‘Em?’ Lydia said, her voice breaking through the hush, an unwelcome reminder that the world continued to turn. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Yes,’ I nodded, finding her hand in mine. ‘I am.’
It was the second-worst lie I’d ever told.