28 #3
Nettie shakes her head, releasing her shirt.
“Evie took too much from her bite, and she didn’t give enough back.
” Spying my confusion, she continues, “When you bite a human, the life you gift them must come from somewhere. One’s soul .
It’s why one werewolf can never create a full pack of their own.
The amount of soul it would strip from them would shatter their brain and body like a mirror.
Too many pieces missing, gone, and impossible to be wholly repaired.
“Evie didn’t know that, though. She didn’t give me enough of her soul, and I…
I hadn’t kept enough of my own life. When Ambassador Wuhao found us, he transformed, scooped me up into his mouth, and carried me to the castle.
Ran so fast, the world looked like an oil painting.
Evie followed, but… She was younger. Not as fast. Her left ankle twisted sometime into the journey, and it never managed to recover since she had to keep running. It still bothers her sometimes.”
“But why would they bring you here ? Biting a human without permission is illegal,” I say.
Nettie nods. “Oh, Queen Sybil was furious. She ranted and raved, even as I lay dying on the cold stone floor of the entrance. We were in her court, and this would have to be her decision.” Nettie runs her hands through her hair.
“If the queen decreed it, I would be allowed to live and be taken in by the Lees. If not, I would be killed. Luckily, Evie is a princess, and ultimate power is nothing if not corrupt. And so, the Wolf Queen of North America granted my survival. If the bite didn’t kill me, she would let me live.
” Antionette sniffles. Her eyes water with fresh tears.
I’m not sure if they’re from gratitude or sadness.
“They threw me in a metal room, as though they were worried about my breaking out, but I couldn’t move.
A fever burned me to a crisp on the inside.
I lay on the bed day and night, and Evie sat beside me.
For thirteen days. Through my screaming, my bleeding, my weeping…
Evie never left. She watched the fire turn to ice in my veins.
She heard me begging for death. She washed the sweat and welts from my neck…
the oozing wound at my throat. And she prayed, loudly, to the stars and moon and sun that I would live. She just wanted me to live.”
I take Nettie’s hand. I don’t know why I do it—maybe because I lived in that room for only three days and thought it would be my undoing, or maybe because she’s crying now, fat tears rolling down her cherubic cheeks—but I hold it between us like a lifeline.
Thirteen days. Thirteen. How had she survived? She glances at the gesture. Smiles.
“On the fourteenth morning, I ripped into a wolf. Gold eyes, white fur, and Evie still beside me, grinning proud as I’ve ever seen her.
” Nettie’s grip hardens against mine. “I love her, Vanessa. You understand that, don’t you?
I miss my family, and I miss my home, but I wouldn’t leave her.
Not for anything in the world.” She releases me then, drying her tears on her sleeve before clearing her throat.
I give her the space to do so. “Being a werewolf… It’s a curse.
But it’s also a gift. We’re stronger. We live longer. We’re magic .”
And that’s all well and good, but—“It feels less like a true story and more like a children’s fable.”
Nettie snorts. “What is life if not lessons disguised as mistakes?” She sits again. Her feet barely touch the water, but she kicks them, waiting for a wave to crest. To rise and meet her. “You need to enjoy your time here. We never know how much we’ll have on this earth.”
And maybe those are the truest words that have ever been spoken. I sit beside her, take off my slippers, and dip my toes in the freezing water as I process Nettie’s story. Evie illegally changed her and stole her forever.
Evil? No. Morally gray? Absolutely.
It doesn’t seem like evidence, however. Why would Evie take my soulmate from me the way she’d been so terrified would happen to her? Unless she’s narcissistic enough to not care about anyone else, which—as I examine my scar—does seem plausible.
I clench my eyes shut tight and admit a horrible truth to myself. If I’d been in Evie’s shoes and saving Celeste had come down to dooming her with the bite of a werewolf, I would have done it. I would have done it without question. No matter the gory consequences. It’s not worse than what happened.
It’s not worse.
Holy shit. I startle, almost pitching forward into the sea, but Nettie grabs hold of my shirt and rips me backward onto the grass. “What the hell, Hart?” she growls.
But I scramble onto my knees and paw at her shirt. “Nettie, please. Please show me your scar again.”
She swats me away. “Okay, weirdo. Is this like a fetish?”
“Please.”
“Fine.” She scoffs and shakes her hair. And then I see it—the rash. The rash. “You said you ran a fever, right?”
“Yes.” Nettie’s brows furrow.
Shit.
How had I not thought of this before?
“What else? Any other symptoms?”
“Aside from almost dying, no. I guess… I hallucinated. About my mother devouring my father and then burning herself alive. And—well, those first days, I wasn’t exactly nice to Ambassador Wuhao.
I wanted to rip his flesh from his bones.
Anytime he stopped to rest on our journey, I tried to attack him.
But that’s normal. Mood swings, psychoses…
Being Bitten means cleaving your soul in two. ”
“Holy shit.” I exhale, and it shakes me to my core. “Fucking Christ.”
Nettie’s gaze widens. “Jesus, Vanessa.”
I’m already on my feet, though. Already running toward the castle. The guards follow, but I don’t pay them any mind. This is it. This is my why . I’ve been so busy making Evie my nemesis that I missed what was right in front of me all along. Just as Calix said.
I think back to the journal I left with Oona. Think about the page where I detailed the day of Celeste’s death. Inky blue words bleed into my brain.
Celeste
Feverish
Explosive rage. Purple hickey. Rash.
Partially digested gummy bears rise in my throat, and I spit them onto the grass.
Fuck fuck fuck.
Someone bit Celeste. Someone… someone bit her . They tried to turn my best friend into a werewolf. And her murder—it had to be a cover-up for the werewolf’s mistake.
It’s illegal to bite a human without direct permission of the queen. And even if you have permission, they lock us in metal rooms where we can’t get out and can’t hurt anyone else.
If a werewolf killed Celeste, it must’ve been because they thought she wouldn’t survive the illegal bite. Yes. Yes. Yes. My insides fizzle and spark with joy. This is it.
I’m unsure of the exacts, but I’ve uncovered one huge piece of the puzzle.
Celeste was Bitten.