Chapter 10 #2
“Are you sure? Maybe you just weren’t trained to use it. I mean, not all Fae use magic either, because if you’re not trained from a really young age, it’s almost impossible to pick it up.”
“I don’t fucking know,” he growls, sounding agitated for the first time.
“If we—they—could have done magic, no one would ever know. All shifters in Thermia are automatically conscripted into the army. Most are born into it, but any who aren’t get thrown in there the second anyone notices they exist.”
“That’s horrible,” I gasp.
He barely reacts. “That’s just how it is.
Wolves are the most common type of shifter, at least in the north, so we make up two-thirds of the army.
Thermia hasn’t been at war with any other kingdoms in centuries, but there’s still plenty for the army to do.
The entire kingdom is crawling with monsters, and without the soldiers to take care of them it would be impossible to live there. ”
“Is that why you were drafted into the army so young?” I ask, putting two and two together. “I thought it was strange when you mentioned it before. Did you say you were around five?”
“Six.”
“So you were born there?”
“No.” He laughs hollowly. “Six is actually getting a late start. Most soldiers start training from the time they can walk, but my mother was Fae, so I lived with her for a while. Like I said, half-breeds aren’t treated that well in Thermia, so she didn’t want to send me to the camps.”
It doesn’t sound to me like the full-blooded wolves are treated that well either, if being drafted into the army at six is considered a late start. Who would create a policy like that?
My stomach twists at the realization that it would have to come from royalty—Fae royalty—since the armies always fight for the crown of whatever kingdom they belong to. Does this come back to the missing queen of Thermia…the queen who Beatrix thinks might be my missing mother?
I glance over at Fox, realizing for the first time that he’s probably the best source of information about Thermia I have available to me. If I weren’t going on this mission in part because of him, I probably would have thought of that sooner.
All of this new information is making me feel…
something. Something that I’m having a hard time putting into words.
I’m not as surprised as I think I should be to discover that Fox has been hiding all this; more than anything, I’m just suddenly realizing that we don’t know each other that well at all.
Clearly, he already realized that. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t care about me beyond the occasional fuck? Because I’m not a wolf?
“Fox is an interesting name for a wolf,” I smile. “I wonder why your parents would name you that?”
“As a deterrent, I think.”
“A what?”
“My mother didn’t want me to get drafted, so I assume she did it hoping no one would realize what I was—because who in their right mind would name a wolf, Fox?” He laughs darkly. “I don’t know for sure, though. She died before I could ask her.”
“How did she die?” I ask, quietly.
“I was really young, I don’t remember,” he says, standing abruptly. Fox pulls his hand back from his shoulder and checks his wound. “It’s almost gone, look.”
“That’s good,” I say stiffly.
It’s blatantly obvious to me that he just lied—he absolutely remembers how his own mother died—but it doesn’t seem like a good moment to push him on it. In any case, he’s right. The skin on his shoulder has almost completely sealed itself.
“Are you done asking questions?” Fox asks shortly. “We should leave now if we’re going to get back before dark.”
“We?” I ask, eyes snapping back to his.
He nods. “You probably need your cloak back. I can shift back and then you can take it. Did you get everything you needed here?”
I furrow my brow. “Everything I needed? I don’t understand.”
“You’re collecting ingredients again, right? Are you done, or did you want to look for something else before we go home?”
I let out a bark of laughter. “Oh, I’m not going back with you. I just need my cloak back before you leave.”
He makes a frustrated growl in the back of his throat. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
I cross my arms. “I’m not going back to Vernallis, I’m going to Thermia.”
His eyes widen, and a muscle in his jaw twitches. “You’re not serious. Why?”
“Don’t you already know? I thought that’s why you were following me.”
“I wasn’t,” he says roughly.
“Liar.”
“I wasn’t,” he insists. “Not until you hit me with your magic and let that deer get away.”
“I just didn’t want to watch that poor thing get eaten.”
“If I were anyone else, you would have gotten eaten,” he growls. “Whatever you’re doing out here obviously isn’t safe. You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“I don’t think that’s any of your business,” I snap, bristling. “And for that matter, I don’t think I’m required to explain myself to you,” I say lightly. “What I do doesn’t have anything to do with you, right? Isn’t that what you wanted?”
He growls low in his throat. “You need to go home, Aurelia.”
I glance back. “Excuse me? Does barking orders like that usually work for you?”
He doesn’t respond, just raises an eyebrow as if to say: usually, yes.
I scoff. “Sorry, you don’t scare me.”
Fox makes a frustrated growl in the back of his throat.
“Gods, I can’t believe I never realized before now that you’re a shifter, what with all the growling,” I mutter. “Oh well. I suppose I missed a lot of things. Just leave the cloak please, I’ll come back for it in a minute.”
I turn on my heel, boots crunching over frosty ground as I stride back toward the riverbank where I left my basket of food, stooping to pick up my fallen sword as I go. Behind me, I hear a curse, then the sound of his footsteps quickening. “Aurelia!”
“What!” I demand, matching his aggressive tone as I whirl back around. “What do you want?”
Fox stops short, looking surprised. I suppose he’s probably never heard me raise my voice before—I don’t do it often—but I think I’ve finally hit my limit.
“Thermia is more dangerous than you can possibly understand,” he says.
“I think I’ll manage.”
“No,” he rumbles.
I laugh. “No, what? What are you going to do?”
He looks taken aback, which part of me can’t help but enjoy.
“I know you’re not going to hurt me,” I continue, “you have no authority to order me around, and we have no relationship so you also have no right to ask me to consider your feelings. You have no idea why I’m even going to Thermia so there’s no chance you’re going to convince me otherwise.
I suppose you could carry me back home, there’s not much I could do about that, but I’d just leave again tomorrow.
So really, Fox, what are you going to do? ”
He looks startled, like for the first time he is also realizing that he has absolutely no power over me.
Feeling somewhat smug, I leave him to stew with that, and go about gathering all of my untouched lunch and collected potion ingredients back into my basket.
I roll my eyes when I see that Eugene has made himself perfectly comfortable in the basket and is munching on a loaf of bread. Clearly, he had higher priorities than Fox and I. Well, I have higher priorities too.
Still, I’m tense as I collect my things. I keep assuming that Fox is going to grab my shoulder and spin me around, or say something, but he doesn’t. Finally, I can’t pretend to fumble with my basket anymore, and I glance back over my shoulder.
Fox is gone—sort of—instead the enormous white wolf is sitting quietly on top of my red cloak, patiently watching me. I reel back, startled.
“Can you understand me like that?” I ask tentatively.
The wolf rolls its eyes and makes a huffing sound which I take to mean: “Obviously.”
“Good. Well…” I trail off.
I have no idea what to say, partly because this strange encounter doesn’t make the conversation we had last night any less mortifying or make me forget that I told Fox without a shadow of a doubt that I wanted more from our arrangement and he didn’t feel the same way.
The only way it could have been worse is if I actually blurted out that I love him, or something equally absurd.
Not that I am…in love with him, that is. Wanting more than a casual relationship isn’t the same as actual love, so it could have been worse.
Small mercies, I suppose.
“I changed my mind,” I mutter. “I’m glad I’m not telepathic.”
The wolf cocks its head at me, and I turn away. His familiar blue eyes are a little frightening.
I bend down to reach for my cloak and Fox walks backwards on four paws so I can pick it up and refasten it around my neck. I pull the hood up over my head and tuck my braid inside, then glance once more at the wolf. “Er…bye, then.”
The wolf whines, as I walk away, but I’ve barely gone twenty paces before I realize I’m being followed. I turn around. “Stop it! Go home, you can’t follow me.”
The wolf just stares at me, and I swear I can hear Fox’s mocking voice saying: “What are you going to do?”