Chapter 5 - Shane
After showing Hyacinth to the spare room, I walk slowly up the hall to my own bedroom and try to ignore the uneasy feeling rising in my guts.
Have I done the right thing?
I never expected Trina and Sadie to agree with what I did, but I also didn’t expect them to come right out and say Hyacinth might be the wrong one.
Not just might—she probably is.
I sit down heavily on the end of the bed and put my head in my hands. My temples have started to throb, and my chest is tight, and I know it doesn’t have anything to do with the sickness.
I’ve never had anxiety in my entire life, but this is a good time to start.
I really thought the others believed Hyacinth was the one, and they were only hesitating because they didn’t want to overturn her life. Now I find out they really think she’s not the missing piece.
A soft groan slips through my lips. I shake my head, trying to ease the throbbing pain in my temples. Looking back on my actions, I can see how senseless they were, and a sick sense of horror fills my gut as I realize this can’t be easily undone.
I didn’t expect the ritual to work immediately, but I did expect some kind of reaction. But I felt nothing, absolutely nothing, and I still don’t.
I take a deep breath and lay back on the bed, the tension singing through my veins. The longer I think about it, the more sure I am that I’ve made a mistake. A mistake that might turn out to be fatal.
Regret fills me, and the road ahead of me looks tainted with hopelessness. Helping my pack will now take twice as long, and calculating how many of them might die while we fix my mistake causes a twist of pain deep in my chest.
Covering my face with my hands, I try to force the horrible thoughts out of my head and think about something, anything else.
To my surprise, the first image that comes to mind is Hyacinth standing in front of me in the hall, right before she went into the spare room.
There was a moment, a very small one, where she looked at me, and I sensed softness in her.
The way she tilted her head… it was like she almost smiled at me.
My mind lingers on the image of her pretty face, her lips in a cute little pout, and her beautiful, big violet eyes, so dark and deep they remind me of amethyst crystal set in the walls of an underground cave.
The pain in my chest eases a little as I admit to myself that she is very beautiful—and strong. Under different circumstances, I wouldn’t mind getting to know her better.
I like the way she stood up to me. Life with Hyacinth definitely wouldn’t be boring.
A small smile curves my lips as I think about how she fired back at me without hesitation, and how much she threw down when I was kidnapping her.
I didn’t expect a human to fight back like that. Maybe I’ve misjudged them.
My mind wanders, going over the events of the evening. I don’t expect to relax or fall asleep, so I’m shocked to wake up in the same spot a few hours later with my legs still halfway off the bed.
I guess the events last night took more out of me than I realized.
When I try to raise myself, everything hurts.
My joints scream, and my muscles ache, rippling waves of fiery agony through my body.
Bracing against the pain, I force myself to sit up.
I know this isn’t just from sleeping in an uncomfortable position.
This is the sickness slowly manifesting itself inside me.
It’s different for everyone. Sometimes it comes as the flu. Sometimes muscle shakes and nosebleeds. I guess for me, it’s going to be fatigue and shocking muscle pain.
I grit my teeth together and heave myself up, ignoring the pain as I get up to go to the bathroom and change. I don’t feel better once I’m up and moving, so I just have to ignore the agony rippling through me and keep going.
This is exhausting. Do people with chronic illness feel like this all the time? I can’t imagine a worse hell.
The thought that I might be like this for the rest of my life drifts through my mind, and I shut it down quickly.
Once I’m freshened up, I head downstairs to see that it’s still fairly early and Hyacinth isn’t up yet.
I go to her door and listen for a moment to confirm she’s still inside, then go back to the kitchen to start breakfast.
I’m serving eggs, bacon, and toast on two plates when I hear her enter the kitchen behind me. For a moment, I keep my back to her, wondering what the hell I’m supposed to say to a woman I just kidnapped.
Good morning! How did you sleep after I literally took you by force and married you without your consent?
“Is that bacon and eggs?” she asks. “I’m absolutely starving—is there any coffee?”
I turn around slowly, half expecting her to be giving me a scathing look, but when I finally see her face, she just looks exhausted and a bit wary of me. I breathe a little sigh of relief as I bring the plates to the table.
“Sure,” I answer. “I’ll go get you a cup.”
She digs into the food, keeping her eyes down as I return with her coffee. For a few minutes, we just eat, and even though I try as hard as I can, I can’t think of a single thing to say to start a conversation.
I just keep coming back to “I kidnapped you. How does that feel?” I sure as hell can’t lead with that.
“So, do we go to your… ah, council or something today?” she asks hesitantly.
“Yes,” I answer. “I’ve already gotten a text from the elders. They’ll be expecting us in a couple of hours.”
She nods, twirling her fork between her fingers. “And what happens then?”
“Well,” I reply, taking a sip of coffee. “Generally, meetings with them are very boring, and things don’t happen quickly. We’ll most likely spend today just updating them on what happened, and no decisions will actually be made.”
“Wait, what?” she asks, fixing her eyes on me in a cold glare. “I thought we were going to get this whole thing undone today. Then I can go back to my life.”
“It’s not that simple,” I reply. “Didn’t you hear Sadie last night? She said if we break the ritual now, it could go badly for all three packs. The council definitely won’t agree to that.”
Her lip trembles, and for a horrible second, I think she’s going to cry.
I don’t know what I’ll do if she breaks down. I can’t stand to see a woman cry.
“I know she said that, but all of you were so worried that I’m not the right person,” she says.
“But we aren’t sure,” I say. “That’s why it’s a delicate situation.”
“How do we find out if I am the right person?” she asks, exasperated. “Can I at least find out that much today?”
“Unlikely,” I reply. “The others will try to train you to see if you have any witch powers. The two of us will have to spend some time together to see if the pack improves.”
She sighs, taking a sip of coffee. “So, why are we going out to your council, then?”
“Basically, so they can yell at me,” I say, shrugging. “I acted against their orders, and it looks like I’ve done more harm than good, so they’ll want to complain in person.”
She shakes her head. “I still can’t believe this. This is a council—a wolf council? Am I going to see werewolves?”
“No,” I chuckle. “Well, technically, yes, but they’ll all be in human form. A lot of us can’t shift now, because of the sickness.”
“What is this sickness?”
“It’s a curse,” I answer, shrugging. “I don’t know much about it.”
Hyacinth eyes me as if she wants to ask more questions, but if I don’t have the answers, it won’t do her any good. She just shrugs and finishes her breakfast.
After we’re done, I take her out front, and we get in my little car. The door squeaks alarmingly when she pulls it open.
“Are you sure this car can get us to where we’re going?” she asks.
“Yeah,” I reply, realizing in that moment that I’m actually not sure. “I’m getting a new one—Rhys is fixing it up for me. I don’t know, I’ve just had this one a long time, and never thought about replacing it.”
She gives me an intense look as if she has something to say to that, but just shakes her head and gets in instead.
The drive out to the manor is quiet, and I can feel Hyacinth withdrawing into herself. She shrinks down in the seat, her face paling and her breathing speeding up as we turn into the dense forest surrounding the manor.
“Where are we going?” she asks in a small voice.
“The manor is hidden in here,” I explain. “The road and the property aren’t officially marked on any map.”
“Okay,” she mumbles, as if part of her expects to be taken to an isolated location and murdered in a gory ritual.
“It’s okay,” I say, trying to be reassuring. “The council aren’t monsters, and it’s me who’s in trouble. They won’t have much to say to you.”
“I don’t know if that comforts me or makes me feel worse,” she mutters.
When we come through the trees and the manor rises before us, throwing its imposing shadow on our path, Hyacinth sits up and gasps as she looks up at the massive structure.
“This place is old!” she cries. “Like, really old. It was built by the first settlers here.”
“Yeah, I guess it was.”
“No,” she says firmly. “I’m telling you. I’ve seen mentions of this place in records—but I didn’t think it was real!”
“Well, it is,” I reply awkwardly. “I didn’t realize you knew so much about history.”
Hyacinth chuckles as I park next to the other cars in the driveway. “I’m all about history. And spooky things, for that matter. I might know more about local lore than you do.”
Her words catch in my mind as we get out of the car and head towards the manor. I assumed she was just a naive, innocent woman. The idea that she might know about our kind disturbs me.
But who knows what she might have read in those books. After last night, she might believe all of it to be true, but it’s only legends and folklore, not truth.
As we pass through the door into the foyer, Hyacinth looks up and gasps in astonishment.
She stretches her head back, following the winding staircase with her gaze as she tries to measure the scope.
When she looks back at me, she’s smiling, and I’m stunned by how different she looks when she’s excited.
“This place is incredible!” she says, turning around slowly to take in the foyer. “Can we explore?”
“After the meeting, I guess we can.”
“Excellent. This is amazing, truly. I always dreamed of seeing a place like this, but I never thought I actually would.”
As we walk down to the council chamber, my sense of unease grows. On the one hand, I’m happy to see her more comfortable and not scared of me. But on the other hand, if she’s the wrong girl, I’m showing her far too much of our world.
Sadie said if Hyacinth saw too much, we wouldn’t be able to erase her memory. What does that mean?
As we come into the dark chamber, Hyacinth slows down, slipping behind me as we enter the shadowy room. The low, burning torches throw manic shapes across the walls, and the aura in the place is dense with pain and misery.
I take Hyacinth’s hand as we approach the table. I see that the entire council, as well as the other alphas and their mates, are all seated.
Fuck. It’s a full assembly.
I hope my guys are here to put in a good word.
“Shane Skylar,” Darla hisses, her voice rough. “What have you done?”
“Respectfully—” I begin.
“Don’t you dare!” Thorne shouts, cutting me off. “This is a sign of utmost disrespect, and you know it. I can’t believe you acted so rashly.”
“It’s bad enough that you eavesdropped and didn’t consult,” Faye says. “But to go out and perform the ritual, based only on that scant evidence? It’s unforgivable, Shane. We could strip you of your position.”
“Owen did no less,” I retort. “And, if I recall correctly, all of you were strongly supporting bringing Hyacinth in, and argued with Sadie and Trina about it.”
“We were,” Darla agrees. “But none of us were about to leap straight into action, wasting valuable time and resources to attack a human woman who may well be useless.”
“Furthermore,” Rafe adds, “Owen had much firmer confirmation than you. The spell had extremely solid results. Your ritual had next to nothing.”
I tilt my head back and take a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “I don’t think going over this in detail is helping the situation,” I say. “I can stand here for a while, and you can chew me out if you want, but it looks like an even bigger waste of time to me.”
I can tell by the looks on their faces that I’ve pissed them off. I’d find that amusing if Darla and Neville didn’t look so sick. Both of them look like they’re having trouble just staying upright, and Neville’s bright smile has been replaced by a grimace of exhaustion and pain.
“You know I’d usually applaud this,” Neville says, his voice rough. “But we have no time left, boy. If you’ve made a mistake, then the price is all our lives.”