Chapter 32
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
QUINN
I ’m already waiting for them when they land on the beach just a short walk from where I’ve paced a divot in the sand. Abby’s hair blows in the soft breeze and the Gods know I wish it was my fingers running through those strands instead of a sea-blown wind. But I don’t have fingers. Not while the moon smirks down at me.
I hate this. I hate that I ran, that I let this get the better of me. I hate that I couldn’t be stronger for her.
I thought I was over this. Thought she’d broken the hold the curse had on me and stripped me away from the monster. But in truth, all she’d done is give me a reprieve. I may not be the mindless beast that tears innocent people to shreds, but I feel like I’m but a breath away from becoming the version of myself I loathe.
Abby takes a seat in the sand beside me while the dragons leave us without so much as a glance in my direction. I wouldn’t blame them if they judged me for this. Running is what cowards do, and the fact that I ran towards danger makes me fool. I can’t decide which is worse.
‘I’m sorry I ran,’ I tell her, fully aware that I’ve ruined this night for us.
Her eyes meet mine and there’s not an ounce of anger in them, nor even the hint of annoyance. All that’s there is a kind understanding that I don’t deserve. ‘I’m the one who should be sorry. I knew you were struggling, but I didn’t realize it was that bad.’
‘I can handle it,’ I lie, because I’ve already proven I can’t.
‘You shouldn’t have to.’ She climbs to her feet. ‘Come on. We’re sleeping in the tower tonight.’
The tower? I stumble to my feet and take a step backwards in the opposite direction. ‘You know I can’t do that. It’s already bad tonight. I can’t—’
‘Shift.’
‘What?’
‘The dragons are making sure we’re safe tonight. Shift.’
She can’t mean that. They’ve supposedly been doing that every night and I’ve still had to sleep in this gods awful form. Unless... Shit, she means all of the dragons. Or, at least, all of them except Petra. They’re all going to be out tonight, patrolling the border around Marein—but why? Why would any of them do that for me?
As if reading the agonizing question in my eyes, she reaches a hand out for me as if I were human and she wants me to take it. ‘Don’t do that. Don’t think that you’re not deserving. It’s one night, and they’re giving it to us. So don’t argue. Don’t try to reason out minuscule meanings. Just come with me.’
There’s no one around us on the empty beach, so I let my body relax and let the fur and flesh of the wolf seep off of me. My bones crack with the shift, and the ache of it is a welcome thing as I straighten and allow the cool air to envelop me. I breathe deeply, drinking in the freshness—the freedom—of just being able to be myself. To be human.
My body moves for her as if acting on a will of its own, and then we’re kissing, the moon above our only witness. I let her fill me, replacing all traces of the panic with whatever I can get from her. Her taste, her smell, the feel of her hands running along my skin. This is what I needed. It’s all I ever need.
I let her lead me to the tower and then up the winding staircase to our room at the top. The musty old bed is a beautiful sight when you’ve been sleeping in the dirt for weeks, and when she eases me down onto it, I feel like I’ve gotten back just a shred of my dignity.
“Wait,” I say, when she moves to unlace her dress. “Let me.”
She turns and pulls her hair over one shoulder so that I can free her from the heaps of fabric hiding every beautiful curve of her from me. My fingers fumble with my recent shift, as if they’re re-learning how to function as fingers rather than claws. She’s patient as I work my way down her back, untying and unclasping, and running my hands down every inch of her.
I let the dress fall off her in a careless heap and pull her down onto the bed beside me. It dawns on me in this moment that I don’t even need to be inside her. I just need to be beside her . She’s already granted me an escape. Given me the freedom I feared I’d lost.
As if she knows exactly what I need, she snuggles in beside me, draping an arm across my chest and a leg over my thigh. She’s letting me feel her.
I reach a hand up to touch her, but she catches it in hers. She weaves her fingers through mine and it’s a reminder that I’m me. That I’m human.
“Thank you,” I breathe, and then, for quite possibly the first time in months, let myself drift off into an easy sleep knowing that, at least for now, we’re safe.
When I awake, I find Abby already up. She smiles when she sees me stir and leans down to give me a tender kiss. “Good morning,” she says, and she’s right. It is a good morning. The first good morning in far too long.
“I actually slept through the night.”
Her smile widens. “I noticed. It’s still early though. I wish you would have slept a little longer.”
“I got more than enough sleep,” I tell her. “Trust me.” It’s not a lie, either. Even before all this bullshit with the wraiths—heck, even before the curse—I was used to late nights and early mornings.
“About last night,” she says, taking a seat on the bed beside me. “I meant what I said. I don’t like needless killing, but I like the idea of losing you even less. We can use the Guardian.”
I take her hand in mine and bring it to my lips, careful not to irritate the wound that’s nearly entirely healed. “He’s more valuable to us alive.”
“Does that mean…?”
“Yes. I’ve decided.” I just hope it’s not a decision I come to regret.
We decide to skip breakfast because, honestly, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stomach this as it is. Adding food into the mix is a recipe for disaster. As we move through the tunnels of Marein’s lower city, I know instantly that something isn’t right. Eyes that have come to view me with respect and even friendship now show nothing but apprehension. Is this about last night? Or am I just so far in my own head that I’m making this about me?
I give Abby’s hand a gentle squeeze. ‘Is it just me, or are they looking at me strangely?’
‘They’re looking at us strangely.’
So this might not be about last night. Either way, this is different. “Did something happen?” I ask the siren nearest to us. When he doesn’t answer, I turn my gaze to every one of the onlookers. Their only response is to avert their stares.
“Abby! Quinn!” I know that voice, so I turn towards the nearest door that leads into the central dining hall. Fern, followed by the little siren boy I’d seen her swimming with, come running towards us.
I drop to my knees and catch her against my chest. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Her hair is in her face, so I brush it back and out of her eyes.
“It’s that man,” she says, tugging at my wrist as she tries to pull me back the way she’d come.
“What man?” Abby asks as she makes sure the boy whose name I still haven’t bothered to learn is unharmed.
“The man Uncle Jade brought here.” Uncle Jade? When the fuck did that start? I have to push that thought aside because if that Guardian escaped… “He’s screaming.”
Fuck.
I stand abruptly and take Abby by the hand, leading her away from the children and the adults who knew very well what was happening and still chose to keep their mouths shut. There’s only one reason for that man to be screaming, and if Erwyn kills him, then all of this would have been for nothing.
We race through the weaving tunnels. I hear him first and the sound of those cries twist my stomach. I know those sounds because I’ve made them, courtesy of my father. As the leader of the army he was building, I would have been the prime target of Lunae’s forces. If I were captured, I’d be beaten and tortured and my father couldn’t risk Rosewood’s location being found. He’d rather they kill me than spill his secrets.
So we’d practiced.
These screams, though, are too high for fists. Erwyn is using blades.
Abby’s breath catches when her human ears finally pick up the sounds. We round the corner into the hall that houses the room where the Guardian was supposed to be safe. When we reach it, I slam into the door and turn the wheel that opens it as fast as my hands will allow. For the first time, I’m thankful that there aren’t any locks on these doors.
“Tell me!” Erwyn shouts, pressing a knife into the man’s side. It’s not a fatal wound, and he knows it. Each time he twists the blade, another blood-curdling scream erupts from the man’s lips. The Guardian is drenched in sweat. A bruise is already forming over his left eye and a trickle of mostly dried blood runs down from his nose. That alone is all I need to know that this has been going on for at least a half hour, and it’s escalating fast.
“I swear, I don’t know!” The Guardian sputters between the agonizing twists of Erwin’s blade. The scar on my side burns with the memory of when I endured the same when I was sixteen. Though father’s knife was bigger. “Please!”
It’s the ‘please’ that does me in. I can almost hear my father’s voice in my head telling me that ‘please’ has never saved anyone.
I’m moving before I can even make the conscious decision to do so. I collide with Erwyn, careful to grip his hand and pull it cleanly from the wound before pressing him up against the wall and holding that same blade against his throat. “What the fuck are you doing?!” I shout the words I would have never dared say to my father. This man isn’t my father, but right now? I’m not seeing the difference.
“He is a prisoner and I am treating him like one,” Erwyn spits. “We need answers.”
“I’ve told you everything I know!” The Guardian is pleading, even now. I don’t have to take my eyes off the man in front of me to know that Abby will already be tending to this victim. Victim —not prisoner.
“Liar,” Erwyn growls and I press the knife deeper against his throat in warning.
“Everyone needs to calm the fuck down.” When I’m certain Erwyn isn’t going to move, I glance over my shoulder and address the Guardian. “What does he think you know?” He wouldn’t have resorted to twisting a knife in his gut if it wasn’t important.
“His men were attacked,” the Guardian sobs. “I swear, I know nothing!”
I believe him. This is a boy who has been starved, but never tortured. I turn my attention back to Erwyn. “What men? What attack?” I relax my hand ever so slightly so he has room to speak without fear of cutting himself.
He pulls in a ragged breath. I guess he was afraid to breathe, too, or maybe the residual rage had me pressing down a fraction too hard. “I sent two men on a reconnaissance mission to gather intel. They were to swim west until they reached Lunae’s mountainous border and report back any possible crossings if we were to launch an attack from the sea. There was no reason for any Guardians to have been there, as those mountains are said to be impenetrable.”
I know this. What I don’t know is why there was a mission to begin with. “What evidence is there of an attack?”
“One of your wolves found their heads this morning as they patrolled the border.”
My blood runs cold. If I’d been a wolf last night like I was supposed to be, I would have known this. I would have known before Erwyn could have gotten his hands on this boy. No doubt Abby was closed off to them too so she could focus on me.
I curse under my breath. “Why wasn’t I told about this mission?”
“Because I do not need to run my actions by you.” Oh, he’s just asking for me to slice into his flesh with the same ruthlessness executed by his hand.
“From this point on, you do.” I lower the weapon and push him towards the door. His answering scoff has me grabbing his arm and pulling him back. “Those men are dead! We can’t afford to lose our numbers.” It’s cold, but Erwyn thinks like a warrior. He can pretend to care about his men all he wants, but he sent them there to die at a time when we need every able body that can carry a sword.
“Their deaths are not on me.”
“Then who? Surely not this man.” I point the blade towards the Guardian on the bed. Abby has untied him so he can help keep pressure on his wound.
“Someone is leaking information.” Erwyn says it as if it were a fact, but I see no evidence of that.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Who here would help Lunae?” The sirens have more reason to hate Lunae than we do, and I trust every one of my people enough to know that they wouldn’t betray us.
Erwyn falters just a fraction. “No one knew about that mission except those men and myself, and I very much doubt they told on themselves.”
I’m losing my patience. “Wouldn’t that make you the leak?”
Erwyn growls. “I will find out who among us cannot be trusted.”
“Knock yourself out, but you won’t be using this Guardian to do it.”
He scoffs again, but this time I let him storm out and shut the door behind him. I sigh before wiping the blood from the blade on my pants and setting it down on the dresser. This room is bare compared to the others, with only a single chair, dresser, and bed. Even the rope restraints on the bed are new. I guess, even with the strengthening of Marein’s military after Lunae’s attack, they hadn’t thought about creating a place to hold captives. Though, that’s likely because they didn’t plan on letting anyone live that long.
“Are you okay?” I ask the man, raising both hands in front of me so that he can see that I’m unarmed. Adrenaline is no doubt coursing through him, and even though he knows I helped him, anyone could be seen as an enemy right now. Part of me wishes Abby had left him restrained, though I don’t blame her for releasing him.
“I am now,” he says. His voice is shaky, but he’s regained more control than I was expecting. “Unless you’re here to torture me, too.” He laughs a little, but there’s no humour in it. Only fear that we might very well, in fact, have come for the same reason. And, in a way, we have.
“We’re here to talk. No knives, I promise. Can I sit?” I gesture to the empty chair. I don’t actually want to sit, but I want to give the illusion that this man has some control over this situation. He’s still very much our prisoner, but he needs to know that we haven’t taken his free will entirely.
He needs to know that before I can go through with this.
He nods. “So this is Marein? It’s not what I was expecting.”
“You weren’t with Imelda’s forces when she attacked us two months ago?” If he were, this wouldn’t be his first time seeing this place. Or, at least, the upper portion of it. The underwater city will be new to him, regardless.
“No,” he says, confirming my suspicions. “She only told some to go. No one wanted to, but most of them can’t refuse her. I can’t explain it.”
“You don’t have to. Imelda isn’t entirely human. She can influence your will.”
“But not mine. Why?”
Abby and I share a look and I let her take this one. “She manipulates people through lust. If you’re not already attracted to her, she’ll hold very little power over you.”
He laughs once, but then winces when it tugs at the wound in his side. “Well, that explains a lot.” He pauses a moment to watch Abby check the bandages on his arms. He doesn’t so much as flinch, so either the burns Jade left on his skin are healing fast or he’s been given some of that Gods awful slime from the healers. “I never imagined that things could get worse in Lunae. We thought you were dead. We were told that an assassin from Marein killed both you and the king. Told this war was to avenge you both.”
“I killed your king,” I say. I need him to trust me, and trust can’t be built on a foundation of lies.
“ We killed him,” Abby corrects. Neither of us dealt that final merciful blow, but his fate was sealed. “But we didn’t know what Imelda was. I want to help the people of Lunae. Do you?” Seems she’s getting right to the point.
“Yes,” he says, and I believe he means it.
I blow out a breath and stand. “I’m going to show you something. You have my word that you won’t be harmed, but I need you to do your best not to scream.”
“What are you doing?” he asks when I strip off my clothes. Abby moves to his side and takes his hand in an effort to reassure him, though I don’t know how much good it’s going to do.
I take another breath and let the wolf have me. I grit my teeth as bones snap and reform and fur sprouts from my pores. I blink, and suddenly I’m seeing the man through fresh eyes. In the brief moments it’s taken me to change, his face has gone from curious apprehension to aghast horror. He’s moved as far back as the bed will allow as he stares down at me with wide eyes.
The scent of his fear is thick in the air, so I sit on my haunches in an attempt to make myself look more dog-liked. The people of Lunae fear wolves as much as they revere them for driving prey to their borders under the light of the full moon. At least, they did.
Clearly, it’s not going to work with me like this, so I shift back into my human form. He calms only slightly when I take a seat at the end of the bed, keeping some distance between us so he can stop seeing me as a threat. As if to punctuate that, Abby moves to my side and puts her hands on my shoulders in a show of trust and support. Ty still sees her as Lunae’s heir, so this display of loyalty will do more than anything I can do.
“Wh-what are you?” he stammers.
I tell him of Imelda’s curse, leaving out no details. He listens intently, but with an understandable tinge of disbelief. I’m asking him to believe in blood magic and curses, and even though he just saw me turn into an animal, that’s a lot to expect from a human.
When I’m finished, he sits in silence for a long while. Neither Abby nor I speak while he processes everything he needs to. When he speaks again, it’s a fair question. “What does this have to do with me?”
And now, the hard part. “You were brought here so that I could…change you.”
His eyes go wide again. “You want to turn me into a monster?” His voice raises on that last word and I have to resist the urge to flinch.
“I don’t want to, but yes. That’s what I’m asking.” The Gods know I don’t want to.
He looks from me to Abby and then back again. “Why bother asking? Aren’t I your prisoner?”
“You’re a prisoner of Marein, but you’re not my prisoner. We can’t free you, so if you refuse, you’ll probably be forced into something else. Marein’s vengeance runs deep. The next person who comes to your room probably won’t be asking for your permission. Erwyn certainly didn’t.”
I think over my words and the dangerous truth in them. “If I agree, can you guarantee I’ll be safe?”
“No. We’re still at war, and sending you there as a spy puts you at risk. Abby will be able to connect with you when you’re in your wolf form and hopefully gather the information we need.”
His eyes slide to her again. “You’re the rightful ruler of Lunae. I’ll do it if this is what you want.”
She shakes her head. “I won’t take away your choice, but it would help us immensely.”
“There’s one more thing,” I say before he can agree. “There’s no telling if this will work. I haven’t changed anyone since the curse was broken, and even then, many didn’t make it. I won’t lose control, so there’s no worry of me tearing you apart, but the change isn’t easy. You’ll get sick. Really sick. The wound will fester. It’s incredibly painful, and you may not survive it.” In all honesty, I’m not even certain I won’t lose control, but I’m trusting myself not to. Just as Abby believes I’m no longer the monster I fear, I need to believe it myself.
“How long?” He must mean how long will the pain last, or the fever. It doesn’t matter since the answer is the same.
“As long as three days. Which would only leave us a day to train you if what you told us is true. And that’s if you can control yourself. This is not a great plan by any means, but it’s the only plan that gives you some degree of freedom.”
He looks back to Abby. There’s fear in his eyes, but also conviction. “I’ll do it.”
She nods. “We’ll have to keep you restrained. It’s for your safety as much as it is ours.”
She’s right. Keeping him still during the fever will prevent him from injuring himself more. He allows her to retie the bindings around his wrists and ankles that keep him confined to the bed. Blood flows from the wound on his side, but that won’t matter for long. I’d never asked Tess for many details, but one thing I’m fairly sure of is that once the fever takes hold, any injuries I’d caused began to heal. I can only assume that will apply to this injury as well.
I guess we’ll find out.
“Try to stay calm,” I tell him as I stand and ready myself for yet another shift. They’re difficult back to back, but since gaining control, it’s gotten easier. “And still. I need to bite you, and the more you move, the more likely I am to do unnecessary damage. Believe me when I say I don’t like this any more than you do and the last thing I want to do is hurt you. I’m… I’m not that monster anymore.” I’m surprised by how easily those words flow off my tongue and even more by the fact that I believe them. As terrified as I am of becoming the thing I hate most, I’m not that monster anymore.
He nods and I shift.
The scent of fear and blood still hangs in the air, but some of the tension has eased. He stiffens as I draw nearer to him, but doesn’t cower away.
Progress .
The thundering of his heart matches my own as I jump up on the bed and stand over him. I see the reflection of myself in those wide eyes and can’t help but wonder how many times I was the last thing a person saw before theirs were closed forever.
‘Ask him if he’s ready.’
Abby does, and the man nods, though it’s too jerky and erratic. He’s terrified, and how can I blame him when I’m equally as fearful? There’s no telling what will happen the moment his blood touches my lips. How many mornings have I awoken with that taste on my tongue only to puke for hours after the monster finally relinquished its hold? To taste that again—willingly—is almost enough to make me turn tail and flee.
I steady myself and force logic to conquer the fear. I’m not even sure of the best place to bite. I’d never had to think about it, but I run through the memories now.
Ruben was bitten on the leg, and it took three days for his fever to cease.
It was the same with Fern, though she was bitten on her hand.
Tess was much quicker, but I’d gotten her on the shoulder.
I can’t be certain, but it seems the closer the bite is to the heart, the quicker the change and the shorter the suffering. That could very well be a thought just to comfort myself, but it’s all I have.
‘Open his shirt,’ I tell Abby, and my mouth salivates all on its own when she does.
Ty’s breathing turns rapid, but I can barely hear it over the slurring of blood coursing through his veins. I hear it as if I were the predator and he my prey.
I flick my gaze back up to those eyes and let myself bear witness to the reflection in them.
My reflection.
And then I bite.