Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Icurl up with Marcus on the couch, breathing in his scent. He still bears the bruises and evidence of the Soldiers’ brutality, and cringes whenever the healing hex bothers him. My black eye has stopped throbbing, but it’s a constant reminder to my pack that I went through hell.
“I was so worried about you, Marcus,” I say quietly. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”
He sits up with a wince, takes my cheek in his hand and drops a lingering kiss on my lips. “You would have soldiered on.”
“I don’t think I would have,” I murmur, nuzzling his nose as he holds me close. I chase his lips for another kiss, just to feel him, to know he’s here with me, safe inside the pack house.
His gray-green eyes shine with emotion as he gently strokes my cheek, leaving behind the scent of pine and wintry winds.
We’re still in a strange state, almost lovers, exchanging kisses, cuddling up together. But neither of us has dared to make the next move. Saints, if I weren’t so tired, so weak, I’d pull Marcus into my nest and take that step.
I want to be his. His mate. I want his bite on my body, his claim on my soul.
I also know that he needs the same rest I do. He needs to mourn who he was before we were all taken hostage. Even though we’re healing, we’ll bear the scars of what we experienced on our hearts forever.
Slowly, so slowly, I start to feel more like myself, helped by my pack.
They surround me in my nest, always stealing touches.
Despite the fear Cassian tries to keep from our bond, I still feel his agitation.
Worry for his family leaves him on edge, but he’s still there for me at every step of my recovery, always there for me when I wake from nightmares, screaming.
I dream of Soldiers forcing me down onto a metal surgical table. I dream of scalpels cutting skin—my skin.
Cassian soothes me when I wake, sending love down our bond, but I still shudder thinking how differently things would have gone if my father’s success rate had been any higher.
Baphomet’s Prince could have my affinity now, and with it, my life.
While a few omegas have survived having their maginaluses removed, it’s clear that my father has no concern for saving his subjects. Saints, he truly is a butcher.
I worry for the other omega test subjects being held at the consortium, damned to be part of my father’s devious schemes by their affinities. Guilt courses through me at the thought—a feeling no amount of love from my men can ease.
But the truth is, we can’t strike. Not as we are now. So fragile. I’ve never seen my men this weakened before, even after Cassian and Marcus were struck with the Ever Ember hex. Our time as hostages has left behind so much more than bruises and the faint scars of hexes.
Day by day, we slowly heal, but my men keep me closer than ever, as if afraid I’ll be taken again.
I fear it too. We don’t leave the pack house for anything.
Anything we need comes to our door, ordered by Cassian.
All of it screened by Simon and Ian. That, perhaps more than anything, that lingering, flinching paranoia, reminds me of what we’ve been through, how broken we all are.
We have little contact with the outside world until Cassian orders us all new cellphones, and even then, we’re hesitant. I know I should call my friends, but something inside me needs more of my pack, more of their love and protection before I can dare reenter the world.
Still, I don’t know that I’ll ever feel anything but weak ever again. Weak and wracked with guilt every day.
I don’t know that I’ll ever fully recover from what I’ve faced, but I know for certain I’ll never forget seeing my pack so battered.
I sip the cup of tea Marcus made me, sandwiched between Luca and Simon on the sofa.
My pack hasn’t let me do anything for myself, taking care of my every need.
While I appreciate it, I’m starting to feel restless.
My black eye has dulled to a greenish bruise, and my wrist has all but healed.
While I don’t feel ready to take action, I feel ready for something.
Like returning to my classes. It feels selfish.
There are omegas locked away at the consortium, being killed every day to further my father’s dark objectives.
Cassian’s parents are still captive, held hostage by Baphomet’s Prince and the Soldiers of Saint Aldous.
My father thinks my way of life, my classes, will mean nothing when the Prince makes his move, when he seizes control of Fairhaven and then the world beyond.
It’s dangerous beyond all belief; I have a target on my back, and I haven’t forgotten my father’s intentions for me.
While all that is true, I need the knowledge I can glean from my father.
If I can read his mind once a week, I can figure out how close his success rate is.
I can flick through his thoughts like flashcards and figure out what the timeline for the alpha army is.
Maybe I can even find out more. Does my father know the true identity of Baphomet’s Prince?
Does he know how many strong the Prince’s army is?
Cassian paces before the sofa. “The Soldiers of Saint Aldous are more deadly than ever, to say nothing of your father, Junes. It would be incredibly dangerous.”
“But worth it if I can keep tabs on my father and steal more information about the Prince’s plans from him.”
Cassian frowns, his shoulders sagging. “I don’t like it. We know your father wants you for your affinity. It’s only a matter of time before he tries something. You’ve seen it yourself.”
“I know I don’t get a say in this,” Marcus rumbles from where he’s leaning against the back of the couch, “but, Juniper, I think you need this to start to heal.”
I turn in Simon’s arms and grasp his hand, giving it a squeeze. I look up, meeting his river-rock eyes. “You absolutely get a say. You’re one of us.”
His eyes shine with an emotion I can’t name, nor can I make sense of with my affinity, though his feelings wash over me now that I can finally read him more easily.
“We’ll come to guard you, then,” Ian says. “Cassian and I will join Marcus, at least for your Magical Medicinals class. Though I reserve the right to come to any class I feel you’re unsafe in. I know you aren’t safe with your father for certain, though.”
“What about the omegas you’ve been teaching?” I protest.
“They’re progressing well. They can spare me for a few hours every week. Ultimately, you’re my priority. Always. If they have to do without me while you’re in your classes, then that’s that.”
The same pang of selfishness pierces me. Ian should be with the omegas, not me. But things have changed now, and, privately, I know I’ll feel better with his protection. “My father won’t like all of you coming to class with me.”
“I don’t give a shit,” Cassian huffs. “He can dislike it all he wants.”
“I can drop out,” Luca suggests. “So you’d have more manpower.”
“Absolutely not,” I all but growl. “You’re a talented mage. I won’t see you throw that away for me.”
“Junie, they’re just classes.”
“Still.”
“I think the three of us can manage,” Cassian says. “Not that you’d be unwelcome, and not that I don’t want to see Junes as protected as possible, but you deserve to have your senior year.”
Luca presses his lips together, but nods.
“There’ll be a lot to catch up on for you both,” Ian sighs. “Juniper, I can help you with yours, but Luca, I’m afraid Transmogrification isn’t my strong suit.”
“Hey, man. No worries. It is my strong suit, and I’m sure I can get help from my professors if I need it.”
Saints know I’ll need Ian’s help with my Advanced Casting work.
Am I really going to do this? Return to my classes while the world around me burns?
Sit in a class where I could be captured just as easily as I could gain important information?
No, I’ll be safe with Cassian, Ian and Marcus guarding me, even if it does feel like overkill.
Even if it’ll draw more attention to me.
There will be questions, I know. My pack is the only pack to have escaped the consortium.
The Soldiers still haven’t negotiated for a hostage release, despite multiple attempts being made by the army’s hostage negotiator.
I’ll return to class with faint bruises around my eyes where my father backhanded me, and I’m sure I’ll always be looking over my shoulder.
They haven’t come for us yet, and we don’t know if they will.
Or when. Everything is fraught, tenuous, unknown.
Is this really the right choice?
It feels like a precious bit of normalcy I don’t deserve.
“Look, Marcus, man,” Cassian begins. “It isn’t as though I don’t trust you with my mate’s life. I do. Wholly. But we’re dealing with someone cunning and ruthless. A merciless monster.”
Marcus raises his hands in surrender. “I’m glad you’re coming to guard Juniper with me. She can’t be too safe. Plus, if things do escalate, I owe that son of a bitch a hex or one hell of a punch.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Get in line.”
“Kit-kat did try to sever his jugular,” Simon points out. “Saints, I love it when you’re vicious, Junes.”
That’s one of the first things to make me smile in a long time. I’ve shown my father my thorns. I’ve entered his devious game, and I plan to win.
Baphomet’s Prince and the Soldiers of Saint Aldous march on toward their new world order.
My pack and I watch the news, numb, as the anchor announces that the Soldiers now hold a narrow margin in the Council of Nine and reveals their new package of draconian laws targeting omegas.
It’s only through the grace of Fairhaven Academy’s resistance that Alyssa, Ellie, Bitsy, and I are still allowed to attend our classes.