Chapter 36 — Ethan
When we get to the infirmary, we find Haron sitting by her father’s bed.
She’s still a little paler than usual. Her bandages have been replaced with fading bruises and cuts.
Her white-blonde hair is pulled up and away from her face.
She’s wearing her traditional ivory-colored Shaman robes, her delicate arms bare and resting in her lap as she sits quietly.
It’s only for a moment that Haron doesn’t notice us. She’s looking over at her ailing father as he lies there, his eyes closed, his complexion an ashen, ghostly pale.
I clear my throat, and she looks up at us. The smile she gives us is a polite one. The kind of expression that’s only given to visitors as a reflex. I don’t imagine she’s experiencing anything that would remotely resemble joy.
“Commander,” she says. Her silvery voice comes out muted. “And Ethan. You’ve come to pay my father a visit.”
“How is he?” I ask, keeping my voice gentle.
Haron’s eyes glisten. “He still hasn’t woken since the attack.” Her fingers twist in her lap. “Olcan says the wounds are severe. He says he doesn’t know when — or if — he’ll recover.”
The raw pain in her voice catches me off guard. Whatever role she played in Holden’s scheme, she clearly didn’t anticipate this outcome. It’s clear that her father’s condition has blindsided her completely.
“I’m sorry about your father.” Rhiannon’s words carry genuine sympathy, but her posture stays rigid, her demeanor professional. She’s already shifting into interrogation mode. “Actually, we came to speak with you about what happened to him.”
She shakes her head. “I wasn’t there. I was asleep in my room when my father was attacked.”
“We know. We need to ask you some questions all the same. Your assistance would be greatly appreciated.” Rhiannon glances toward the door. “Perhaps we could walk through the gardens? Some fresh air might do us all some good.”
Haron hesitates, her gaze lingering on her father’s still form. Then she nods curtly. “Of course.”
We leave the infirmary and make our way through the fortress corridors in silence until we emerge into the gardens. The scent of herbs and late-blooming flowers hangs in the air, a stark contrast to the sterile, alcoholic smell of the infirmary.
For a few moments, we continue walking in silence. Haron keeps her hands clasped in front of her, her ivory robes trailing behind her like a wedding train. Rhiannon sets the pace, unhurried but purposeful, and I fall into step beside her.
Finally, Rhiannon says, “I’m not sure how much you’ve been told about what happened, but we believe your brother is responsible for the attack on your father and on you.”
Haron blinks, then knits her brows together. “That’s ridiculous. He would never do such a thing. Besides, he was attacked too. How could he be responsible for a wolf attacking him?”
A series of emotions plays out on Haron’s face — confusion, defensiveness, a guarded reluctance — but I can’t tell if she’s just protecting herself or actually shocked. It’s time to shift tactics.
“Do you know why I’m here, Haron?” I ask. “Why I’ve been at Kortan during the summit?”
“I’ve heard rumors,” she says vaguely. “They call you Truth Seer.”
What the fuck are you doing? Rhiannon glares at me.
Trust me. I meet her gaze for a moment before turning back to Haron.
“That’s right. I have the ability to see if someone is being deceitful or not. That’s been my job this entire time.”
Haron’s eyes drift toward the path. “I can see how that would be valuable, but we aren’t being deceitful. We came here on a mission of peace.”
“You can drop the act.” I block her path.
“We know a Shaman is controlling Jayme. Holden disappeared right after your father was attacked — not exactly innocent behavior. You were in on this whole thing too, weren’t you?”
Her expression transforms. “What? That’s— We’re the ones being attacked—”
Rhiannon moves in closer, her voice taking on an almost maternal tone.
“Haron, please.” She pauses, letting the quiet fill the space between them.
“We’re trying to help. We believe you care deeply about your father’s safety.
We need to understand what’s happening before anyone else gets hurt, or Holden comes back to finish what he started.
If you know something — anything — about his plans, now is the time to share. We can protect you from him.”
Haron stares at her, her soft hazel eyes starting to well up. Then she looks away, a flush creeping into her cheeks.
She’s cracking.
I let out a long breath. “I don’t know what Holden told you, or whatever you two had planned, but you better know that if your father dies, his blood will be on your hands. Is that what you want?”
The dam breaks. Haron covers her face with her hands for a moment, sobs erupting from her body.
“It was never supposed to go this far,” she says through her tears. “Holden— he said he could control that beast. That no one would die.”
The way she refers to Jayme as “that beast” makes my jaw tighten.
Rhiannon pins Haron with a glare sharp as broken glass. I sense the shift in her. Any softness she may have had for Haron is hardening like a stone. “So you didn’t help Holden carry out his plan?”
“No, I did.” Haron sniffles, then looks up at me with pleading eyes.
“You don’t understand our history. They believe that the Shaman killed during the end of the Moon Curse were victims of an unjust attack.
” Haron drops her gaze, fresh tears tracking down her cheeks.
“Our mother was one of them. Holden has never forgiven it. He thinks peace is just a prettier word for letting something like that happen again.”
“So Elder Stasio never wanted to form an alliance with us?” Rhiannon asks with an edge of anger.
“No, my father did want peace.” Her tears slow and she pauses for a few seconds, lost in thought.
“He saw Luna Thea during the battle, and he was. . .amazed by her. She was one of us, but also one of you. From that moment forward, he believed Luna Thea was an auspice of a time for change.” She glances back toward the infirmary, a deep sadness in her puffy eyes. “A time for peace with Lycans.”
“But you and Holden didn’t believe that?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Holden believes that Shaman were put here to rule over Lycans.” She sighs. “I honestly don’t know what I believe. But I went along with him because he’s my brother. I’ve never known him to be a killer. I didn’t think he would take it this far.”
Rhiannon scoffs. “You were nearly killed. How could you continue to go along after that?”
“That was an accident,” Haron says firmly, apparently still fully believing that.
“Hold on,” I say. “Let’s back up. How did this whole thing start?”
Haron wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. “Before the summit, one of our oracles detected something unusual: a Scarlet Wolf living in Kortan, heavily consuming Blackroot.”
“Wait, how would they even be able to do that?” I glance at Rhiannon, who looks equally skeptical, given she didn’t know about Jayme for over a year.
“Scarlets give off a different vibration than regular Lycans,” Haron explains. “Our oracles can sense these things, especially when they’re enhanced by substances like Blackroot.”
Rhiannon’s jaw tightens. “You came here specifically hunting for the Scarlet?”
“We weren’t hunting.” Haron’s voice drops.
“Holden saw an opportunity. Blackroot has many mystical properties. It’s widely used in our culture for various rituals and remedies.
But, Holden...” She pauses, seeming to struggle with the words.
“He learned how to conduct a ritual that would allow him to control a Scarlet Wolf using the Blackroot in their body as a conduit.”
My stomach turns. The way she talks about controlling another person like they’re some kind of puppet makes my skin crawl.
“And you helped him,” Rhiannon states flatly.
Haron nods, shame coloring her features. “I enchanted a talisman that would help us identify the Scarlet once we arrived at Kortan. We needed to be certain we had the right person.”
“Jayme,” I say. “You singled Jayme out, and then what?”
“Once we found him, we developed the plan. At dinner, I was to ask to be shown around somewhere—”
“Hold on,” Rhiannon cuts in. “When did you have time to put this plan together? The two of you met Jayme for the first time right before dinner. You couldn’t have known who he was, or that he would even be there.”
“Holden is my twin. We can talk through our minds,” Haron says, as if this should be common knowledge.
I glance at Rhiannon. I knew it.
Her golden-brown eyes meet mine for just a second before she turns back to Haron.
“Continue.” Rhiannon’s tone makes it clear she’s not tolerating any further nonsense.
Haron takes a shaky breath.
“I was to ask to be shown around somewhere. I chose Ethan because—” She stops mid-sentence, her expression crumpling as guilt floods her face. “Should our plan not go accordingly, you’d act as a distraction, giving me the chance to escape.”
“Distraction?” I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “You mean Scarlet bait?”
“It wasn’t personal,” she says. “If I were going to have an escort, they had to be defenseless. If a Lycan had escorted me, they might have fought Jayme off, protecting us both and earning respect from my father. That would miss the whole point. I needed to be wounded for the plan to succeed and...” She pauses again, swallowing hard.
“If it happened while I was protecting you from having your throat ripped out, even better.”
Heat crawls up my neck, and I swear smoke might be pouring from my ears.