22. Chapter 22
Arlo
Frigid water splashes my ankles as I leap from the rowboat and wade the rest of the way to shore.
“Arlo, wait!” Dad calls, but I can’t. There’s no time. I’ve got to find Gunnar, got to make sure he’s okay. Nothing else matters. With a squeal, Truffles jumps out of the boat and tears after me, her hooves carrying her over the water.
I run until the village comes into view.
Howls fill the air, echoing from the surrounding trees.
We’ve been spotted. Ahead several dark shapes charge toward us.
Wolves, ones I recognize. The big black one is Wulfric, and the smaller white wolf beside him must be Kieran.
Another black wolf, Anders, and a white wolf, Lyall, the twins, ever the opposites.
Another wolf who’d waited near the exit to town shifts, and I recognize him as Soren.
He goes to stand by Lyall, their shoulders brushing.
My lungs ache as I stumble from a sprint to a walk.
One by one, they shift to human form. The tension lining Wulfric’s brow softens. “Arlo. Thank the gods. We feared it was the other witches.”
“Has Gunnar been here?” I ask around heaving breaths.
Wulfric’s jaw tightens. “Have you come to take him away?”
The mistrust aches but it’s only to be expected. “No. No, I’m here to help. Am I the only witch here?” Please tell me we beat the Council here…
Kieran says, “Just you, for now.”
“Thank fuck.” I exhale. There’s that going for me, at least. “Listen, if Gunnar is here, then I can help him. My grandmother is making a potion I devised that could help cure his berserkism.”
Wulfric’s eyes widen. “Truly? Hold a moment.” He goes oddly still, brow furrowing like he’s thinking very hard or perhaps trying to fart.
“Uh. What’s he doing?”
Kieran smiles like he’s used to Wulfric’s mile-long constipated look. “Contacting Gunnar with their weird Twilight wolf telepathy.”
“Oh. Right.”
“Has the Council reached out at all?” I ask.
Anders growls. “They had mentioned coming by in the afternoon for a visit. Should be here any moment.”
Wulfric snaps out of his daze. “He’s on the way. Now, what’s this about a potion?”
I tell them about the plan I concocted to get Nan to trust ulfhednar. Anders unhelpfully adds, “All that trouble for a flower? I would have just stolen it.”
Lyall looks horrified. “You’d steal from a poor old woman? Does Jamie know you’re such an ass?”
Anders grins. “Aye, and he loves me anyway.”
Before I can finish my story, a gray blur races from the trees and onto the road.
And there he is. My wolf. He’s big and gray and equal parts beautiful and terrifying in his shifted form. He seems to be in control, and he hasn’t morphed into a monstrous, bipedal beast. Relief lifts the weight from my chest, and the icy wind stings the tears that dampen my eyes.
He’s all right.
Thank the goddess.
The gray wolf’s body shudders, jerking on his paws. His shift is longer and slower than the others.
That bloody fool! Why did he shift when he’s toeing the line between sane and feral?
When Gunnar completes his shift, he lingers on his hands and knees a moment longer than the others.
His long dark hair hangs over his face, his shoulders heaving as his nails dig into the dirt.
Kieran puts a hand on his shoulder and says something.
Gunnar nods, then pushes himself up. When his silver eyes find mine, all the breath flees my lungs.
The same relief and desperation to have him in my arms that I feel reflects right back at me through his eyes.
Gunnar’s brothers stop some ways behind him, but Gunnar keeps moving.
The way he looks at me makes me feel like I’m all he can see.
I curl my hands at my sides so I don’t run to him and throw myself in his arms. Because what if I’m wrong?
What if he’s just going to tell me this is the end?
That he’s chosen to lose himself rather than be with me?
Gunnar stops in front of me, just within arm's reach. His wide eyes dart over my face, chest heaving from his run. Goddess, I want to hold him, feel him against me. But if he pushes me away again—
“You came for me,” Gunnar says breathlessly.
“O-of course I did.” I fold my arms over my chest, needing something to do with them.
“Did the TTA send you?”
Does this arsehole really think I’d turn on him like that? “They did, but I haven’t told them where you are. I’m not so petty I’d turn you in for, what, rejecting me? You really think that little of me?”
A flurry of emotions thickens my throat. Hurt because he ran off on me this morning. Humiliation for opening myself up only to be rejected again. Anger at him, at myself, for being so bloody terrified that he won’t let me love him the way I want.
Gunnar shakes his head, takes a step forward, and stops. His fingers clench and unclench. “Lo,” he says softly, devastatingly. “You thought I rejected you?”
I laugh, horrified when tears sting my eyes. “You did.”
There’s a flash from behind me, making Gunnar wince. A chorus of snarls fills the air, and my heart sinks. I turn around and, just as I feared, several witches from the Council step through a portal. I round on them, hands up. “Just a moment. Please.”
“Agent Tenanbaum, step aside,” says one of the witches. She looks past me at Wulfric. “Alpha Wulfric, I am Councilwoman Kendrick.”
Wulfric approaches with Kieran at his side. “Councilwoman. My Alpha-Mate, Kieran.”
Kieran smiles and waves, but it looks forced as hell. “Nice to meet ya. Unless, of course, you’re here to take Gunnar away. In which case, you can fuck off.”
Lyall covers his mouth to disguise what sounds like a laugh.
Wulfric sighs and gives Kieran a look that’s equal parts amused and stern.
Kendrick replies with her own cold smile. “It is my hope that we can come to an agreement. We would prefer not to interfere in your pack’s affairs if at all possible, but you’ve forced our hand.”
Gunnar shakes his head. “No, I did. I’m the one who lost control.”
What a noble bloody idiot my mate is.
“It wasn’t his fault!” I say, positioning myself in front of Gunnar. “The witch he bit attacked him first. He’s an ex of mine, and he was jealous. Please, I’ll accept any responsibility on his behalf.”
“Arlo,” Gunnar growls, gripping my shoulder. “Don’t. Let me handle this.”
“I’m sorry, Agent Tenanbaum, who attacked whom is beside the point.
Derek has been fired and will no longer represent the TTA.
But you and Mr. Erikson were supposed to find a way to cure Gunnar’s berserkism.
Your failure to do so resulted in an exposure breach.
You had your chance, but I’m afraid we’ve run out of time. ”
My heart sinks into my stomach.
Kendrick looks at Gunnar. “Mr. Erikson, you have a choice. You can allow our witches to carve your wolf from your soul. You would lose the ability to shift forever, but many find that preferable to the alternative.”
“Which is death,” Gunnar says blankly, hanging his head.
“Unfortunately, yes. You must understand, Mr. Erikson—”
“Lay a hand on my brother, and I’ll take it off!” Lyall snarls.
Anders unsheathes his claws. “He’s our pack. We will decide what to do with him, not you!”
The witches behind Kendrick tense, and the air thickens with the scent of ozone as magic gathers around us.
I feel sick. My hands are shaking and I’m sweating despite the cold. “No,” I say. “No, just give me more time! I’m working on a potion. It could be done today!”
“We’re out of time, Mr. Tenanbaum.”
“The hell you are!” I shout, ready to charge at her. If she even tries to touch Gunnar—
“Lo, don’t. Don’t make the Council your enemy,” Gunnar urges, gripping my arm.
“Who are you to go around punishing ulfhednar for biology they have no control over?” I point an accusatory finger at her. “There’s another way! I’ll prove it to you. I just need more time.”
Kendrick sighs. “How much do you need? And can Gunnar be safely contained until then?”
“Of course he can,” Wulfric snaps.
How much time? Goddess, I don’t know. “I—”
“No time at all, dear.” Behind the witches, Nan and my parents hurry up the road toward us. In her weathered hands, Nan carries a small jar. My potion. I wish I could feel relieved, but now I’m worried the damn thing won’t work. It is a first attempt, after all.
“Hullo!” Nan says with a smile. “I’m Patty. This is my son Bill and my daughter-in-law, Natalie. I’ve brought Arlo’s potion.”
Dad glares at me. “We’d have gotten here faster if you hadn’t run ahead.”
“Sorry…” They look like they had a time of it, covered in brambles and mud.
“What is this potion exactly?” Kendrick asks as Nan passes her to hand the potion to Gunnar.
“It can help soothe a berserker’s rage. Ulfhednar used to make it,” I say. “Unmated wolves were able to go their whole lives without taking a mate.”
And so will Gunnar. He’ll have no need for me once he drinks it, if it works. A lump clogs my throat.
“Let’s try it then,” Kendrick suggests, stepping back to watch.
“You may want to pinch your nose, dear,” Nan says apologetically.
Gunnar unscrews the cap and sniffs the lavender-colored contents. He pulls a face.
Anders claps his back. “Go on. Chug, chug, chug!”
Gunnar looks from the potion to me, and suddenly, I want him to throw the potion on the ground and say he doesn’t need it. He’s choosing me. He’s—
Throwing back his head, Gunnar downs the potion in one gulp. Grimacing, he tosses the jar onto the ground where it shatters somewhere behind him. He clutches his stomach with a low groan.
Oh goddess. Did we poison him?
“Are you well?” Wulfric asks, bending close to Gunnar’s ear.
Gunnar takes a few breaths in and out.
“Gunnar? Talk to us,” Dad says, worrying his thumbnail with his teeth. Mum rubs his shoulders, giving me a worried look.
“I feel…” Gunnar hesitates and slowly stands up straight. He touches a hand to his chest and closes his eyes. “I don’t know. Quiet. In my head. For the first time in years.”