Chapter 32 #2
"Seems to be the consensus." I clasp his forearm in greeting, careful not to let my claws break his skin. "You don't look much better if those bags under your eyes are any indicator."
"It's getting worse." He doesn't need to specify what "it" is. We all know. The curses. The darkness. Whatever you want to call it. The price of being without our whole soul for so many years. "I haven’t killed anyone yet, but it’s come close."
My chest tightens with empathy. Each of us bears a different curse. Wraith's manifests in losing control of when he dreamwalks and how much energy he takes.
"You haven’t found yours yet?" I ask.
"No." The single word carries the weight of exhaustion and despair. His eyes narrow as he studies my face, noting the tremors that run through me at irregular intervals. "But I hear you found yours."
It's not a question. Something in my expression must give it away.
"Her name is Astrid," I say, the syllables like honey on my tongue. "She's GUIDE."
Wraith's eyebrows shoot up. "The human hunters? Fuck, Fen."
"It's... complicated."
A laugh escapes him, rusty from disuse. "I imagine so." His expression grows serious again. "Does she know? About the mate bond? The soul shard?"
"Not everything. Not yet." The admission feels like failure. "She knows I'm not human. Knows there are other worlds. Knows the two of us are connected by something. The rest... it's a lot to take in."
Wraith nods, understanding in his tired eyes. "And you're back here because...?"
"The Enclave is harvesting magick. Trafficking beings from multiple planets. Working with sirens." I keep my voice low, though we're alone in this corner of the courtyard.
"Fuck." Wraith runs a hand through his white hair. “Let’s go. The faster you share your news the faster you can get your soon-to-be-furry ass back to earth.”
“Very funny, old friend.”
“I try.”
“That’s a lie.”
He grunts. “Fair point. You try.”
“I do.”
We are led by a single butler through the palace into a small intimate living space. A fire burns in a massive hearth despite the mild evening, and comfortable chairs surround a small round table inlaid with a map of Avalon. Cormac stands next to the hearth sipping on a drink.
Hawke's eyes lock on us as we enter, flickering with momentary surprise at seeing Wraith. He straightens from where he'd been leaning over the table, a protective hand moving instinctively toward Melinda.
But she pops up from her chair. And greets me with genuine warmth, clasping my hand in both of hers. "Fenrir, it's good to see you."
My eyes drift briefly to the gentle curve now visible beneath her flowing dress—a subtle swell that wasn't there when I saw her last. The scent of her has changed too, sweeter somehow, layered with something new and delicate.
Life growing within life. The wolf in me recognizes and honors it instantly.
"Queen Stormblood." I bow. "You look well."
A smile touches her lips. "A kind lie. I look exactly as I feel. I haven't slept in a week." Her eyes move to Wraith and she flashes him an empathetic smile. "All of you, please, sit. You must be exhausted. Cormac said you just rescued nearly two dozen people."
We arrange ourselves around the table.
Bracken sits beside an empty chair, his face grim. When he sees Cormac, father and son exchange a brief nod. Wraith moves to sit beside Bracken, shoulders easing slightly.
I drop into one of the carved chairs, my body still fighting the aftermath of almost shifting. Every muscle protests.
The table holds the expected map of Avalon, but also untouched platters of food. Several decanters. Papers with what look like battle plans and troop positions.
Hawke remains standing, pouring wine into glasses with his own hands rather than calling for servants.
His eyes meet mine as he slides a glass toward me, then flick meaningfully to the crystal decanter of ambrosia at the center of the table.
"Now," he says, taking his seat beside Melinda. "Tell me more about what you've found out."
I lean forward and blink hard, forcing clarity. Fresh ambrosia waits in a crystal decanter at the center of the table. Hawke pushes it toward me without comment. I pour a generous measure, downing it in a single gulp.
“I assume you’ve been filled in about the mission and the Enclave to some extent already,” I say.
He nods. “We’re suspicious if this Enclave group is who the other Fae cities are working with.”
"It’s likely. They’re trafficking people and magick from other worlds," I say once I can trust my voice to remain steady. "So they definitely have sirens helping them."
"Or they’re blackmailing the sirens somehow," Cormac answers.
The room falls silent.
"There's more," I continue. "They're harvesting magick from the captives."
Melinda pales. "For what purpose?"
"Power. Earth magick is tainted. It costs to use it." Arik's voice is grim. "They’re using the regeant crystals like portable reservoirs. They can use large amounts of magick without drawing into the tainted magick or hurting the people around them."
“That would definitely be a commodity,” Melinda says, leaning back into her chair.
The room falls silent and I feel the weight of everyone's emotions. The gravity of what we're facing is enormous. But the silence stretches a beat too long, and my thoughts inevitably return to Astrid. Alone on Earth. Potentially hunting the very creatures I'd just encountered here in Avalon.
"Also, when we arrived at the creek outside the city. I saw two chimeras," I say, the words falling like stones in the room. "I would assume they are the same ones killing GUIDE agents on Earth."
“Good riddance,” Melinda spits out.
Her words scrape against my nerves like sandpaper. My claws emerge instantly, digging into the polished wood of my chair. A low rumble builds in my chest before I can stop it.
“Fen’s mate is a GUIDE agent, love,” Hawke says, squeezing his wife's hand gently. His eyes meet mine—a silent request for patience.
“Oh, right.” She glances at me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—”
I shake my head. "I know you didn't." The chair feels suddenly confining.
Every second in this room is another second away from Astrid.
"But I am worried about Astrid. She was on the Chimera case a couple weeks ago.
She didn't get hurt, but her two colleagues were both badly injured.
I need to get back to her in case she's assigned to it again. "
The muscles in my legs tense, ready to stand, to run, to find the fastest path back to Earth. Hawke notices. Of course he does. The slight nod he gives me carries understanding. He's felt this same pull.
“You need to get back to her for more than that,” Hawke says, eyeballing my claws.
“Yes. I know.” I pull my clawed hands down to my lap.
"They're the perfect weapons," Cormac says quietly. "Immune to most magick and quite vicious when crossed."
“What about our shield?” Melinda sits forward suddenly.
“It won’t let them through if they wish to harm us. It reads intent,” Hawke says.
“Right. Right.” She settles back into her chair, but worries at her bottom lip, clearly not settled by the assurance.
“My lady, I do not think they will stay here long. I think the Chimera’s are hunting GUIDE agents,” Cormac says.
I frown, considering the implications. Why would they be in Avalon when their targets are on Earth?
Unless this is just a place to retreat where GUIDE can't follow them.
Or perhaps they're here for new orders? These aren't just mindless beasts.
Someone has to be directing them. The thought settles like ice in my gut. I need to tell Astrid.
Melinda relaxes a bit more and then turns to me. “You need to go back. Now.”
It's not a question, but I answer anyway. "Yes." I force back another wave of transformation, sweat beading on my forehead with the effort. "The wolf... now that we have found her. We need her."
Hawke nods. "Use the well in the palace to recharge. Herschel can take you to the solarium. Then hurry back to Earth. I look forward to meeting the woman that has your heart, Fenrir."
Relief floods through me. "Thank you."
Just a few more hours. Then I'll be back at her side.