4. Gabriel
Chapter 4
Gabriel
G abriel hated witches with every fiber of his being. They were responsible for so many of the deaths among his people, including his parents and Paxton’s parents.
For Zareia’s struggles and the villagers being trapped here.
For his sister’s current condition.
For ripping away so much of his life.
But seeing Brinley in pain, seeing the dried blood on her arm and lip, because of Torin made his blood boil. It was the same feeling he’d had when he found that rogue DeLoup holding her against the wall in that cellar.
He expected more of his kind. Fighting back against the witches was one thing; torturing an unarmed young woman without real cause was another. Especially when they needed a witch to save his pack. Though, not all of the rogues knew that. And most who were aware didn’t care. They only used the knowledge to fuel their anger more.
The ones in the village last night hadn’t been a pack he knew. For a short moment when he approached the carnage and saw the royal carriage, he’d assumed the Shadow Pack finally attacked, but this wasn’t their work. Gabriel hadn’t recognized anyone.
Until he followed that tug low in his gut and found his way down to that cellar. Until he saw Brinley.
The relief coursing through him upon seeing her had been short lived. Because she had no idea who he was. Her memories had been tampered with, as promised, and the pure hatred in her dark blue eyes hurt worse than a blade sinking into his skin. But he needed her. They all did.
He hadn’t told Torin who Brinley was because the man wasn’t supposed to be left with her. Gabriel had let him live to serve as a reminder that he was alpha. No one made these choices without his or Paxton’s orders. Before going to get Brinley out, he had clawed Torin up bad enough that it would take a few days to heal. Darren… Gabriel wouldn’t be able to harm his friend as badly, but the young man would get an earful from him. And Daci, most likely. Everyone knew of Torin’s true role as jailer and how malicious he could be.
And because he didn’t know who she was, he’d taken it upon himself to get that information out of her.
This was also why Gabriel had banned the Shadow Pack and all the other rogue packs from Zareia. They believed in taking offensive, aggressive action to bring down the High Sorceress and her queendom ruled by witches and wizards. Whereas, many of the other packs simply wanted peace to live their lives.
Brighid gasped behind him, reminding him she’d followed him upstairs. He ignored the older woman’s obvious outrage as he carried Brinley straight into the bathing chamber. Though he and his sister were far too old for a governess anymore, he hadn’t been able to let her go. Now, she acted as housekeeper and healer when she wasn’t helping out at the orphanage. She’d been with the Ferway family since their mother passed away. That was nearly eighteen years ago, but she still treated them as if they were children she needed to look after. They knew each other well at this point.
Which was how he knew that she wasn’t gasping at the impropriety of him carrying the woman into his private chambers. Unlike the witch communities, the DeLoup were not as prudish. They were much more open and expressive with their bodies and sexualities, and Brighid had seen a number of people exiting his rooms in the mornings. No, what she was in shock of, he was sure, was the fact that he was tending to a witch at all. Even this one.
After their past, he didn’t blame her.
Inside the bathing chamber, he lowered Brinley’s feet to the floor but didn’t release her. She grimaced, her legs shaking, so he kept an arm around her to hold her upright.
“What are you going to do to me?” she whispered.
“Exactly what I told you when I asked you to sit still,” he said with an aggravated sigh. He turned on the overhead light. With the electricity failing more and more often throughout the village, he tended to avoid it all but the running water. However, he didn’t want to take the time to light a lantern right now.
He glanced down at Brinley. She was still as stubborn as ever, yet somehow more breathtaking. Even while filthy. When she tried to pull away from him, he released her, but then she stumbled.
He hooked an arm around her waist. “Would you just stop? I’m trying to help you.”
“Help me?” She let out a humorless laugh. “You want to help me after attacking my people?”
“I didn’t attack anyone, bijou,” he snarled. The nickname slipped out too easily. Not wanting to deal with this anymore, he turned to Brighid. “Could you please help her get cleaned up and tend to her wounds?”
Brighid hesitated. She glanced from him to Brinley, her jaw visibly clenching. Lifting her hands, she used the gestures they’d made up when he was a child. I’m not touching her.
Gritting his teeth, he used his free hand to say, Please?
The woman who was like a mother to him narrowed her eyes. He knew it wasn’t fair to ask her. It might have even been cruel… but he didn’t know what else to do.
“What is going on?” Brinley asked, breaking the silent conversation.
He wasn’t about to explain that her people had killed Brighid’s entire family before ripping out her tongue. That she didn’t want anything to do with the witch because of those horrid memories. It wasn’t his story to tell.
Brighid pulled the essence of willow out of her pocket and set it on the sink. She’d taken a small portion of what he’d bought for his sister and put it in a separate vial for Brinley.
Do not leave this room. I will not be alone with her , she said with her hands.
“Fine,” he said aloud.
“What did she say?” Brinley asked.
“That she cannot help you on her own. I’ll need to stay.”
Brighid rolled her eyes at his lie. He didn’t know why he did it. Brinley didn’t deserve to be shielded. At least, not this version of Brinley. If they took her memories and filled her with hate, he didn’t know what else they did, what they made her believe. Before he could blurt out the harsh truth, Brinley tugged away from him.
“I don’t need help from you monsters,” she hissed, her voice laced with venom.
Shaking his head, he said through a clenched jaw, “You know what? Fine. Fall on your face for all I care.” He indicated for Brighid to leave, and she didn’t argue. “I know you can heal yourself, but that vial will help with the pain in the meantime. Use whatever soap you want. I’ll put a dress on the bed.”
He knew she preferred them and wouldn’t want his clothes.
He headed toward the door that led back to his office.
“Wait,” she whispered.
Pausing, he took a deep breath in through his nose, held it for a couple seconds, and released it through his mouth. Brighid didn’t stop. Schooling his features, he looked from the bed to Brinley’s crumpled form leaning against the porcelain clawfoot tub.
“Please, just…”
He slowly walked toward her. “Use your words, witchling. Tell me what you want.”
With a sigh, she said, “You’re right; I can’t do this by myself. Please help me.”
Her cheeks flushed, and he ignored the way the sight made his pulse race. He couldn’t believe she admitted it, nor that she asked him to help her. That small request sent a spark of hope through him.
Returning to the bathing chamber, he started the water for the tub. With careful movements, he got her out of her ruined dress. It took all of his strength to keep his eyes on the back of her head as he guided her into the tub, but he’d already seen everything. He was overly aware of her naked body. Her perfect naked body that had been marred and bruised by one of his men.
Fuck . He wanted to destroy Torin.
Gabriel wanted to tear him limb from limb slow enough that he would heal after each one and live through the agony.
He swallowed and focused on Brinley. Though, that wasn’t much better. His pounding heart started sending his blood south. Biting the inside of his cheek, he snapped his gaze up to the turquoise wall, to the window high above letting in light. Anything but the way her soft skin felt beneath his fingers.
Honestly, he was amazed that she was not only letting him help her but that she hadn’t panicked about being bare before him.
Though, he supposed the princess was probably used to attendants and maids bathing her. Even if she hadn’t lived in the castle for years.
He would do no such thing. The moment she lowered into the warm water, he turned around and reached for the door. “I’ll be back in a few. If you want to rest once you’re done, I’ll help you out and you can go ahead and sleep here in the bedroom.”
“I’m not sleeping in your bed.”
He almost laughed. “Fine. Do what you want, witchling. Just don’t leave these rooms before I get back.”
He made the mistake of facing her again.
With her arms crossed, her breasts were mostly hidden, but not entirely. Her dark brown hair, which had been braided when he found her last night, had mostly fallen down around her shoulders now. She had dirt and dried blood on her face and neck, and a long cut appeared on one arm. That had not been there before. Fucking Torin.
Yet, despite it all, there was a glow about her. Her deep blue eyes seemed to look into his soul, and yet, the lack of familiarity tore him up. Made all the clearer when she said, “I told you, my name is Brinley, not witchling.”
He knew that. Her name was Brinley Evnar, Crown Princess of Reinous. But he couldn’t say it.
He couldn’t say anything more right now.
Needing to get out of there, he simply shrugged like he didn’t care. He stomped through his room and to the study beyond, slamming the door behind him. When he reached the hall, shutting that door as well, he hesitated. Should he lock it? Would that matter if she could use her magic to open it anyway?
But then, he remembered the way she’d sat curled up in that cell. She hadn’t fought back against Torin, hadn’t tried to escape once alone.
She hadn’t healed herself.
Did she have her magic at all? His heart twisted at the thought. He needed her to have power. They all did.
Gabriel headed toward the spiral iron staircase at the end of the hall, as if his feet knew where he needed to go before making the conscious decision to do so. His boots clanked up the steps to the third-floor landing. The short hall ended in a set of double doors with opaque, colored glass in the top half of the light wood.
Taking a deep breath, he entered the solarium. Daciana sat in her chair just inside, feet propped up on a small table and twirling a dagger with one hand. She sheathed it at her thigh with a nod as Gabriel came in. “Sir.”
It had been six years since Gabriel’s father died and he’d become the alpha of the Crimson Pack, yet he still wasn’t used to his friends addressing him formally.
“Anything?” He looked around the spacious, round room. Its domed glass ceiling and walls of windows let in a plethora of light, giving life to the wide variety of plants occupying most of the area.
“No,” Daci said. “She’s been quiet today. Hasn’t left the room.”
Gabriel sighed and nodded. "Thanks.” Crossing his arms, he said, “Dare left his post to Torin.”
“What?” Her feet dropped to the floor, and she stood.
“Find out why for me? I know they’re friends, but he should’ve known better.”
Daciana let out a low growl. “Yes, he should have.” She hesitated before asking, “Did Torin…”
Gabriel nodded again. “He’s lucky he’s alive after touching her. I don’t care if he didn’t know. He?—”
“Shouldn’t have done anything without orders,” she said, cutting him off. “I’ll take care of my brother.”
Gabriel didn’t doubt it. She was by far the toughest in their group of friends and didn’t tolerate this kind of shit, especially from her own twin.
He thanked her once more before heading toward the center of the indoor garden. An array of tall wild grasses, bushes, and a few trees blocked the view from the door, giving a semblance of privacy to his sister. Rounding the bend in the path, he found her asleep on the red settee.
Almost two years ago, for her sixteenth birthday, he’d restructured the solarium into her bedroom. Rose had always loved it up here. Now, as she grew weaker each day, he was glad he’d been able to do it for her. It was too difficult for her to walk around outside as often as she wanted, so he loved that he’d had the foresight to bring the outside to her.
The middle of the room had been cleared out to create a sitting area. It was also where her painting supplies and easel had been set up. On the far side, against the portion of the wall where he and Paxton had added curtains, was her wrought iron canopy bed, vanity, and wardrobe. He’d used the side of the solarium that sat against the inner hallway to build her own bathing chamber as well.
Sitting on the edge of the sofa near Rose’s head, he brushed some of her blond hair from her brow. She looked so at peace, wrapped up in her favorite blue and pink blanket. His thumb ran in small circles along her temple, and her eyelids fluttered.
“Pax?” she said, her voice groggy.
Gabriel chuckled. “No, it’s me. Pax will be back tomorrow.”
“What? Why?” Her eyes opened fully, then. Smiling, she asked, “What are you doing here? I thought you had business to take care of.”
“I did.” He pulled the vial with the remaining pain elixir from his pocket. “How are you feeling? Need this?”
She shook her head and shifted to sit up next to him. “I’m all right for now. It’s not too bad.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Rosalyn, you don’t need to wait until it’s?—”
“I know, Gabe.” She took the vial and set it on the low table in front of them. “I’ve heard the speech a dozen times. I promise not to wait until I’m in agony.”
It made him sick to think of her being miserable. For years, her strength had been waning. Gabriel could still remember the day they realized it wasn’t just some illness making her exhausted, that she wasn’t getting better. It was slow and gradual, but remembering how vivacious she was as a child compared to now made his chest ache.
He kissed the top of his sister’s head. His only living family. Rose wrapped her arms around him, leaning into his side.
The healers did what they could for her pain, but there was no stopping the progression of whatever this was—she was getting worse with each passing week. There was no curing her. Not without magic.
It was a witch who’d cursed one of the most important people in his life. And it was a witch who was going to help him reverse it.
He’d prayed to La Déesse to send him aid, to guide him to the answer. Instead, she’d led him to a stubborn sorceress who didn’t seem to have control over her power yet. But he would make this work. He made a silent vow to try harder with Brinley. If it meant saving his sister’s life, he would do anything.
Even if it meant breaking his own heart in the process.