5. Wolf
Emi skidded to a halt at the grave, oblivious to the sounds of massive paws thudding closer. My hearing was far better, but my shouted warning went unheeded. Why was I even bothering?
She was a sun-forsaken witch, for cloud’s sake! If one of the other beasts of Aglonbriar took on this new problem for me, I’d be grateful. One less witch in Anterra could only be a good thing.
Yesterday, I’d let a pretty face and the need to save her distract me, but I should have known what she was. No regular human could walk through Mist that thick without turning. I knew that better than anyone.
Emi. The Emerald Witch.
Curse my clouded judgment, I was an idiot. She was a gemstone witch like her granny dearest. What were the odds she was just as wicked? I didn’t want to take that bet. Had she actually seemed sweet? Maybe it was part of her magic. That would explain how I’d been so blinded until her sister’s name raised my suspicion.
Who cared that she looked like a picture and had eyes the color of a dew-damp fern in the morning? That deep red hair that shone with life in firelight was only a distraction from her true devastation.
She’d lulled me into sympathizing with her through stories that were probably all lies. And now that she’d seen Ruby”s grave, I was about to see the might of her magic.
I braced myself for it.
Part of me thought I would welcome the escape of death. I was so tired.
Her hand shook as she pointed to the disturbed dirt. “What is that?”
“It’s exactly what you think it is,” I growled.
Her face crumpled, and a piece of me squeezed painfully in response before I stuffed the feeling down deep. I really was a clouded idiot.
All this time, I’d fought the monster. I’d twisted myself in knots to hold back the wolf’s nature, doing everything I could to not become a killer. That luxury was gone. The three witches had seen to that with their little prophecy.
To shuffle off these bonds, the witch must die.
And in her death the power will apply
To they whose hands shall shed the witch’s blood,
Its stain upon them guilt, washed clean by love.
No love could wash me clean from this. What a farce.
I’d argued. I had no confidence in the Diamond Witch’s words. I’d wished for another way, hoped I could convince the Ruby Witch to lift the curse herself. Surely if she knew the damage she had caused…But the prophecy was clear. It was Ruby or the rest of us.
Once I accepted that, I couldn’t let anyone else pay the price. It had to be me.
I’d argued inside myself all the way here, me and the wolf, butting heads. Reason. Destruction. Empathy. Protection. Deliberation. Death.
In the end, the Ruby Witch gave me no choice, and the monster got what he wanted. She nearly unleashed a fresh curse on me before I could silence her, even though I’d been careful to approach with all the stealth of the hunting wolf. Her black eyes had filled with hatred and conviction, and I’d known there was no other way to end it.
I couldn’t regret it, and guilt was just the price I had to pay. It was supposed to be worth it. Instead, the Mist hadn’t cleared. It was worse than ever, and I was nothing but a failure doomed to succumb to the monster like the fenriswulf who’d chased Emi here. Those witches promised I’d gain the power to end this, but I felt no different. The wolf still bristled under my skin, leaping forward to face Emi as realization crashed over her, and her face twisted in anguish.
“You—You knew! This whole time, you knew she was dead?” Emi yelled.
Branches snapped. Thudding paws drew closer, and Emi jerked at a loud snarl.
“Yes. Now get out of the Mist,” I urged, although I had no idea why I was trying to save her again. Another growl erupted, deep and warning. The fenriswulf was back. “Trust me, there are worse monsters than me out there.”
“You did this? You killed her?”
Her shriek gave the fenriswulf a direction, and his sound shifted when he burst forth again. I could smell him now. Too close. “If you don’t want to join her in the ground, I’d suggest getting back in the clearing. Now!”
Clouded idiot! I should let the Mist claim me for the wolf I was and eliminate the threat in front of me. I should join the fenriswulf in destroying her.
Instead, I stayed halfway between the cottage and the trees, halfway between man and monster.
“Murderer!” Emi shouted, finally moving from the grave. Mist billowed around her ankles.
Any witch worth her gemstone could surely kill me, but why wasn’t she using her powers?
Before I could process, Mist surged above a rushing shadow. It burst between the trees, the same sloping back and elongated head I’d recognized before. Teeth gnashed as the fenriswulf’s hind legs bunched to launch at Emi. Her scream cut to my bones.
Without thinking, I dove toward her. The fenriswulf slammed into her with too much speed to stop, sending her crashing to the forest floor while he rolled past, thudding into a tree trunk.
Coppery blood scented the air.
My skin burned at the first brush of Mist. It pulled at me, tugging at my insides, feeling like it was turning my flesh inside out. The compulsion was intimately familiar, but that didn’t make it any easier to resist. Fire filled my veins. I rushed through blinding pain to the heap that was Emi just as she scrambled to her knees.
Beyond her, the fenriswulf righted himself with a mighty shake.
“Get up!” I growled.
My fist tightened on cool fabric. Tugging at her skirt, I hauled Emi to her feet.
“Get off me.” She slapped at my hand.
I didn’t let go. Instead I dragged her with me. My bones were molten, burning. Everything inside of me clawed its way toward the deeper shadows and banks of white, but the fenriswulf was up again. His jaw opened on a snarl. He rocked back to lunge, and I threw us as hard as I could in the opposite direction from the ravenous fire inside me.
We tumbled from the trees onto dirt and clumps of grass but I didn’t stop. Claws tore down my ankle—or maybe they were teeth, I didn’t know. My own blood added to the metallic bite already permeating the air. There was no time to look back as I shoved and rolled Emi further from the trees and the Mist and the danger of snapping teeth.
We tumbled to a stop as a wailing howl rent the clearing. The keening loss and frustration in that sound froze us in place. Branches cracked, teeth clashed, claws scraped…but nothing touched us.
We’d made it.
My body covered hers. Her skirts were strewn every which way but her legs were pinned beneath mine and my arm was flung over her head, sheltering her face in the crook of my neck. Far too aware of our positions and her breath hot against my throat, I stayed put long enough to check where the fenriswulf had gone.
Gleaming yellow eyes fixed on us from the gloom, but he wouldn’t leave the clutches of the Mist to enter the clearing. He was too far gone to come back. Strings of saliva swung from a maw of glistening teeth as he prowled the edge. It was hard to believe that creature was Fenrir, the man with whom I’d shared more meals than I could count back before…well, before he was this.
Was I on the same path now? Would I end up all monster like him, the last glimmers of the man snuffed out by the shadows?
The passionate hatred I’d felt at learning Emi’s true name still lingered alongside the fiery call of the Mist in my flesh, and I felt closer now to becoming that monster than I’d ever been. Closer even than when my own canines had sunk into the Ruby Witch’s throat, or when I’d bathed her blood from my fur after scratching dirt over her grave.
All this time—annums of it spent fighting this—to come so close to ending the curse only to have it swell into this, worse than ever. I would never be free. What was I fighting anymore?
A fist in my ribs brought me lurching from my thoughts.
“Ow,” I snarled down at her.
Emi’s eyes turned to wide circles. “Your teeth,” she squeaked.
Curses and clouds. The Mist’s effects lingered.
I shoved back to my knees and scrambled off her, willing my mouth back to normal. My hands brushed down my arms as if that could rid me faster of the hint of reddish fur sprouting there. Given the brightness of the clearing, I assumed my eyes were still half-changed to their more light-sensitive form, so I blinked until the dim gloom returned. When it felt safe to talk, I faced her.
“I think you mean ‘thank you,’ since I just saved your life.”
She gawked at me, blinking furiously with tiny shakes of her head as if she couldn’t trust her own eyes. Nostrils flared as her breaths came hard and fast.
The reek of her fear and blood hung heavy in the air, but she stood with a flush of rage flooding her cheeks. Now. Now is when I would see her power.
I had no words for my surprise when she simply flung herself at me, hands clenched and eyes narrowed.
“You killed my grandma! You think I care about what you did now? You’re a murderer. You lied. This whole time! You think I care about anything else you’ve said or done?” She punctuated each shouted accusation with a hurled fist. “Liar. Killer. Swine.”
It was comically easy to dodge her flailing limbs, as if she had no training in combat whatsoever. But she was a gemstone witch, not some innocent village girl. She wouldn’t attack me if she couldn’t fight me.
“I wasn’t the only one lying, was I, witch?”
As if my words reminded her of our situation, she backed away, turning wide eyes toward the forest where the fenriswulf still stalked us.
“Yeah…You’re not escaping that way.”
Her gaze swung back to me, fear returning with a sharp tang. “You…You…” Bright green eyes darted from the forest to me to the cottage and back again. They landed on the ax.
“Oh no you don’t.” I stepped between her and the stump.
“Just let me go,” she said, fresh fear pouring off her.
“Go where? You might be immune to the Mist, little witch, but you’re not immune to that.” I gestured to the prowling beast.
Nothing about this was adding up. What was her magic? Why hadn’t she used it to protect herself?
Blood trickled down her arm where teeth had grazed her. Maybe that first attack had come too fast for her to react, but she’d had time since then. Why wasn’t she using magic against me?
I probably shouldn’t wait for her to remember she had power. I should be the one grabbing the ax to protect myself. I should be the one fearful and retreating. No matter her innocent act from the previous day, I saw the truth now. I should have already ended the threat she posed.
It had been a very long time since I’d spent this much consecutive time as a man, and it was clear I was letting the wrong instincts and desires control my thoughts where Emi was concerned. The wolf would have known better. He would have seen past her big eyes and big laugh to the rot at the core.
“I don’t know what you’re playing at, Emerald, but I see through you. This fair exterior doesn’t hide your foul nature. That,”—I stopped to point at Fenrir in his monstrous shape—“that foul beast has a heart more fair than yours, I promise you.”
“You know nothing about me, you animal! You’re as much a monster as that thing is,” she snapped.
“I never claimed otherwise.”
We froze, our gazes locked together in matching glares. A deadly hush draped across the clearing, smothering us in silence. Even the fenriswulf stopped growling, and any other life had long since been scared off by the battle raging here.
I sucked in a breath. “Yes, I may be a monster and a killer, but so was your beloved grandmother. She was far worse than any beast, and I doubt you’re any better. So go ahead. Prove me right, little witchling. Use your wicked magic and do your worst. We both know I deserve it.”
With my arms spread wide, I waited for her to unleash whatever clouded fate she was imagining for me.
Instead of attacking, Emi lunged for the cottage door, darting into the kitchen and grabbing the largest knife from the block on the counter where we’d prepared dinner together. Had that only been yesterday? She spun to face me in the doorway, stabbing forward in a sloppy, desperate motion.
She was yelling, cursing me out, but still…no magical attack.
“A knife? Really?” I dodged a wild swipe.
Was she so untrained that she didn’t know how to use her magic in a fight? She was old enough to have had annums of training by now, and she had the worst witch in all of Anterra as her grandmother to teach her.
I could run, leave her to fend for herself against Fenrir and any others drawn by the noise. I could escape to my woods and let someone else deal with the new witch. But I’d have to return to the enclave with my tail between my legs, and I’d chosen this responsibility. I wouldn’t abandon it now.
A snarling growl startled her, and I took my opening. My instincts were clearly still on the fritz because, instead of rushing to join the beasts prowling the woods, I ducked past her and closed my arms around her from behind, restraining her. With my foot, I slammed the door closed, cutting off a long, low howl.
She fought me with everything she had. Everything except magic.
“Would you stop trying to kill me, witchling? You”re going to hurt yourself.”
I should let her. I should end this. What messed up protective instincts made me want to save her when she was everything I hated? Sunbeams, she was the Ruby Witch”s own blood!
Wait.
She was the Ruby Witch”s blood.
And in her death the power will apply
To they whose hands shall shed the witch’s blood
What if Ruby’s death wasn’t enough? What if her curse lived on in her blood—in her kin?
Emi was bleeding from the fenriswulf’s attack. I could smell it, along with some of mine, hot and sticky over my heel. What if Emi’s blood was part of this?
Simply shedding the witch’s blood clearly wasn’t enough, but if Ruby’s death alone hadn’t been the key to lifting the curse, maybe her granddaughter knew what I was missing.
Okay, think…
First I had to stop her from trying to kill me long enough to get some answers. Then I had to stop myself from wanting to kill her before I could make use of her. Something told me the latter would be easier than the former.