Chapter 32
Roderick Bryson
“No salt, no seasonings, but still the best meal I’ve ever had.
” Anya stretched her arms and threw the roasting stick into the fire.
She settled onto the ground, leaning back against the log with a satisfied smile.
Her toes wiggled in front of the crackling fire, so close Roderick nearly feared she would roast them just like the hare.
“Glad to hear it. You can thank your hunting prowess for that. Fresh game is truly a delicacy.” He finished adding a few fir boughs to their shelter, then surveyed it with a critical eye.
It would have to do. He could only pray Anya wasn’t a restless sleeper.
One strong kick could send the whole thing tumbling down.
“I—” Anya yawned, “wish I could hunt more often.”
“Why don’t you? Valeria is calm again. Who knows how many others like you there could be?”
He had often wondered the same thing. Where were all the Vampires?
Had mating with humans truly wrought their extinction?
Granddad often spoke of how stalwart the Vampires were said to be.
Mere rumor, all of it, of course, but still impossibly intriguing to Roderick, even as a boy.
Unlike the Werewolves and Elves, the Vampires had refused to leave Valeria when the humans arrived, choosing instead to embrace the newcomers with open arms and hearts.
Only for their descendants to be forced into exile.
But Valeria was different now. He didn’t expect Vampires to pop out of the shadows the second the Divine Church’s head had been toppled, but part of him assumed that something would happen. Perhaps that something laid ahead of them here, in Aquillas.
“My parents are convinced that I’m a ‘reckless, wandering wolf.’ I have to prove them wrong. I can’t let Cyrus be King.”
Roderick settled in beside her.
“I don’t know if this will frustrate you, or help you.
But I have had nothing but good experiences with Count Scorer.
He was instrumental in helping me get donations for the children’s home.
I would’ve had to leave Petorus a lot more if he hadn’t handled nearly a dozen dinners with Eteross nobles on my behalf.
The building we were in back in Balcott?
Eighty percent of the remodel was paid for by the donations of Eteross nobles. Nobles he schmoozed for me.”
“I’m sure he only did it for the connections.”
Roderick’s brows shot up. “What kind of connections does the nephew of the King and Queen not have already? How does he benefit from gaining the favor of a Centarian earl?”
Anya gaped. “I’m not sure. But there must be a reason.”
He could tell her conviction was wavering—and his curiosity was just getting started.
“What did he do to garner your hate? So I can avoid it, of course.” He chuckled.
Anya started picking her teeth with a claw, then stopped as soon as she met his eye.
“He’s always been a conniving cur. He’d take advantage of my absences every full moon.”
“How so?”
Anya’s face fell. She stared at her claws in her lap. She didn’t answer for a long moment. “He’d try to replace me. I’d hear him talking with my parents in the hall. Laughing with them like the son I’m sure they always wanted. And I couldn’t do a thing about it.”
The memory of her fearful words on the beach came to mind.
It’s there—the cage, it’s still there—
“Anya,” he scooped her hands up in his and held her gaze, “is this about the cage?”
Her fingers trembled beneath his as she nodded wordlessly. He squeezed them tighter, willing his strength into her. Wherever this conversation was going, she needed it.
“They caged me,” she said, her voice cracking. “They caged me every full moon.”
Righteous anger burned in his chest. “Count Scorer?” How could he have been so wrong about a person?
Anya shook her head. “My parents. When I was young, I couldn’t control my shift during the full moon.
It felt so good, Roderick. Like I was right up there in the stars with the moon.
” She cast her eyes up at the stars peeking through the canopy of trees.
“But I got trampled when I snuck out one day. I woke up in a cage. They wouldn’t let me out, no matter how much I cried. Not until I turned back.”
“That’s abuse,” Roderick growled. “Who could ever think of locking up their own child?”
“They would disagree. To them, I was one full moon away from someone discovering my secret and telling the Church, or being killed by my wandering paws.”
While he understood the King and Queen’s trepidation about the Priest Supreme and his successor, that didn’t justify locking Anya away like…
Like a monster.
His throat went dry. Divine Almighty. How long had he tried to impress the image of privilege and ignorance on Anya—swore she didn’t understand the plight of his people?
But Anya wasn’t a monster. She was…Anya. And he was sure she must have been just as intelligent as a child as she was now. Why wouldn’t they have talked to her? Or spent time with her? What harm could come if one of them had been with her all the time during the full moon?
Even if it was a locked room, at least she wouldn’t have been alone.
Anya sniffed and wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “You’re wondering why they didn’t just stay with me, right?” A bitter laugh escaped her. “They couldn’t stand being around me like that.”
“That can’t be—”
“‘Shift back into the little girl we love. Now,’” Anya said with a cruel air that made his heart ache for her.
“That’s what Mother told me. That was the moment I learned their love was just a mask.
Conditional. Fake. Able to be ripped away the instant you reveal your true self.
” She turned to Roderick, eyes misty with tears.
“Because if the woman who held me and sang me to sleep could starve me into submission the next day without a second glance…I can’t believe real, unconditional love is possible from anyone. ”
I can.
Roderick swallowed back the words. Anya was being vulnerable with him.
Any declaration now would seem like exactly what the self-absorbed man she said he was would do.
But he meant it. He really, truly meant it.
Strip away her title, her wealth, even her beauty, and Anya was still everything he could ever want and more.
“Stars, I’m really throwing myself a pity party, aren’t I? Who am I to complain to you? You’ve endured so much worse, I should just—”
She yelped with surprise as he slid her on to his lap. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and hugged her close, admiring the shine of her golden hair as the flames dimmed into embers before them.
“Your pain is real. Don’t compare it to anyone else’s. I’ve—I’ve made that mistake before. I’ve made a lot of mistakes.”
“Like jumping in after me?”
“No. That’s not one of them. I’d do it again. I’d do anything for you, Anya, Princess, Queen, or not. I hope you know that.”
His pulse kicked up as Anya turned around and buried her face in his shirt.
“It…mmph…me.”
“What?”
“Mmph…was…me.”
What on earth was she saying? What he’d give for the ability to poke into her mind right now.
“What?”
“Never mind.” Anya pushed away from his chest.
“I think you need some sleep.” He brushed his fingers through her hair, coming to rest on her jaw line. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, almost savoring it—like he would vanish without a moment’s notice.
But nothing could make that happen.
She finally yawned, then opened her eyes, bleary with fatigue. “All right. Thank you for building a shelter.”
Roderick stayed seated by the fire, listening to the shift of fir boughs and leaves as Anya settled into the lean-to.
“Roderick?”
“Yes?”
“You’re going to sleep under here too, right?”
“Yes.”
No.
“Get some rest. I’ll be along once the fire dies down.”
The fire was plenty dim. It was his emotions that needed a cold splash. If he slept by her side one more night, he feared they would flare out of control, and he would overwhelm her with the fanciful words that fizzled on the end of his tongue whenever he looked into her eyes.
Forget Eteross. Forget Valeria. Forget the Divine-forsaken cage, Count Scorer—forget everything.
Sail with me, Anya.
He shook his head, then raked a hand through his hair and groaned. He couldn’t place such a heavy burden on her heart. But his chest threatened to burst if he kept it to himself any longer.
Regardless, it was best to keep his distance.
And besides, sleeping by the fire didn’t sound all that bad.
It would be just like his campaign days.
Once Anya stilled, he reclined against the log and stared up at the tree-patched stars.
The few constellations he knew swirled as sleep overcame him until every one was a wolf, running and prancing through a yellow field of dandelions.
The forms gained color, fur, and shining eyes as the starry sky gave way to a moonlit field—and he was a child again, observing the revelry from the peony bushes.
His chest felt light again, unsullied by his granddad’s blood or his father’s vitriol.
A small, golden wolf pup watched the pack from afar, hidden among the pink and white peonies, just like he was. Every few moments, her paws timidly pressed forward, then retreated, then again, and again. When she finally took a few brave steps forward, a commanding voice shouted, “Anya!”
The other wolves fled through the field into the woods. The golden flowers withered and crumpled as they ran, leaving a cloud of dandelion puffs in their wake.
Anya made little howling cries, desperately trying to follow, but an invisible force tugged her tail and yanked her back.
Wait for me! Please, please, it hurts…I need to run…I need to run with you…
Roderick burst out of the bushes. “Stop it!” he yelled. “Stop it! Let her go!”
The ghostly tugging stopped, and pup-Anya fell nose first into the grass. But the wolves were too far gone. As soon as Roderick got close enough, he slid on his knees the rest of the way and threw his arms around her hackles.