Chapter 19
Fern
Her voice was nearly gone when the sun finally touched the horizon and the door opened.
She looked straight ahead at a slight discoloration in the stone in front of her, unable to move her eyes.
That was her anchor, and she could not lose it.
Footsteps came closer, and warm, strong hands grasped her around her upper arms, forcing her up.
But her legs refused to work, and she only remained upright thanks to his hold on her.
“Can you walk?”
“I’m on the ground…” she rasped.
He clicked his tongue against his teeth in annoyance, then ran an arm under her knees, lifting her like she weighed nothing.
“Did he know?”
He turned too quickly, and Fern lost sight of her spot. She searched frantically to find it again, fear building inside her as she looked over the edge.
A keening whine broke through her chest, and the man pushed her face against his chest.
“Shh, Fern. I’m taking you down.”
Down… down… only one way down, they were going to fall…
A door closed, the wind stopped. A torch flickered from somewhere below.
“Fern, did my brother know of this fear?”
Brother… how would she know if his brother…
And then the familiar scent hit her, and she looked, finally realizing who held her.
“Eidan?”
His brow pinched with concern, his lips thinned as he took note of her state.
“It’s me, it’s me. You still haven’t answered my question, though—did Darion know?”
She buried her face back into him, not wanting to see anything.
“Aye,” she whispered.
His breathing deepened, and a low growl rolled like cart wheels over gravel from his chest.
Without another word, they descended.
So many stairs… were there more on the way down? Would they ever reach the ground?
Her heart raced again, and Eidan’s chest reverberated in the way she’d only seen alphas do, the vibration and frequency finally calming her down enough where she didn’t feel like she might faint.
And she had five more nights of this. At least.
Maybe a lifetime.
“I’m not going to make it,” she mumbled. “I can’t—”
“You can and you will. I refuse to let him break you simply because he cannot make sense of you.”
“And you can?” Fern asked. She dared a peek at his face, concentrating on his lips as they curved into almost a smile.
“Not quite. But unlike Darion, that doesn’t scare me.”
We don’t scare our alpha, her wolf countered, pouting from her hiding spot.
Fern tried to ignore her, feeling betrayed by her absence last night and her continued loyalty to the alpha who did not deserve it.
He does deserve it, he chose us.
Fern almost shook her head. Her wolf was ridiculous.
The same way a butcher chooses a lamb, Fern replied.
“I’m going to try to change this ruling,” Eidan said as they continued to descend. It felt like the stairs would never end. “And if I fail, at the very least I will do what I can to lessen its severity.”
Fern could not muster up the energy to even hope he could.
They finally made it to the dining hall, early enough that the Solvekh were only just starting to prepare the room for the first meal.
She felt their eyes and heard their whispers as Eidan placed her in his chair at the head table.
“Stay.” He barked his order, an alpha command that probably should have intimidated her, but instead sent a ripple of warmth through her limbs. It was a verbal box to reside in, to be surrounded by.
But that feeling did not last as she watched him leave towards the kitchens, and the room became suffocating in its openness.
The chair was too high.
All at once she slipped off it and landed under the table, finding it easier to breathe and bring her racing pulse back down.
Feet shuffled by.
Feet on the ground.
There was no further to fall.
Her eyelids grew heavy, and her head bobbed, the force of it falling snapping her awake and leaving her wondering for a moment where she was and how she’d gotten there.
She woke up with another start when the chair she’d been placed in pulled out suddenly, and Eidan’s face appeared.
“What about ‘stay’ was so difficult to understand?” he asked, his amused smile softening the harsh tone.
“I haven’t moved much,” she muttered.
He gestured for her to get out of his way, and she scooted down a few feet to accommodate him as he squeezed in next to her, so large he could not sit straight without bumping his head.
“Eat,” he said next, handing her some hard cheese, a bread heel, and a small plum. When she stared at the meal with wide eyes, he let out a small growl. “And don’t you dare tell me it’s too much.”
It was, but she kept her mouth shut anyway, taking a sniff of the plum and nearly crying at the sweet, slightly tart scent. She closed her eyes and took a small bite, flavor coating her tongue. Juice dripped down her chin, and Eidan reached over to wipe it away with his thumb.
“Better?” he asked.
She nodded. “Thank you,” she said, the words garbled in her full mouth.
He watched her silently, taking back the pit when she was finished with the plum and then handing her the cheese next.
She nibbled on it, looking out from their spot as Solvekh continued to walk by, ignoring their strange party.
But she knew they’d speak on it. She was not only the Ashpaw, but a Solvekh dining—on the floor—with one of the alphas.
And then her appetite disappeared.
“This will get back to him. I should go.”
He grabbed her wrist as she tried to rise, pulling her back down into her spot. “I will deal with my brother,” he replied, his tone clipped.
But his frustration towards her subsided as Fern began to shake.
“Damn him to Solas’s Hells,” he said on a harsh sigh, running a hand down his face roughly. “Go, then, but take the food with you.”
He crawled his way back out, and Fern almost thought to laugh at how undignified he made the process. Then he brought her out behind him, regarding her closely as they stood.
“No matter what I’m able to accomplish, take heart that tonight will be better.”
His hand reached out as though he meant to pat her on the head, but then it curled around the back of her neck, and he embraced her, his nose in her hair and breathing in.
“Things will get better,” he repeated.
Fern nodded, but knew, deep down, they were just as likely to get worse, too.
* * *
The wolfkin that had accompanied Eidan on his trip had all returned, and the dining hall was crowded and loud again.
Fern had not thought to ask what his business away from the castle entailed, but based on the snippets of conversation she gleaned from her corner, it had something to do with scouting near the border. The Bloodmoons stirring up trouble, skirmishes, raids…
Problems that might as well have been a million miles away for how they affected her.
Although there was one problem now much closer to home.
Harland’s gaze still fixated on her as she moved. A creeping thing, like fingers prodding for weakness to exploit.
And she was all weakness these days.
She saw Harland rise from the corner of her eye, the wolfkin beside him trying to speak to him but being pushed to the side as he approached her.
Fern dared a glance at the head table.
Darion was watching.
“Did you miss me, she-wolf?” he asked, crowding her against the wall.
She pressed her lips together, tightly closed, and tried to look anywhere but at him.
Before the last full moon, she’d found his proximity, if not so much his person, enticing. His scent appealing.
But now she felt nothing that resembled desire.
Her wolf was merely wary, keeping an eye on him from a distance, while Fern was afraid that Harland would cause some sort of disturbance, and she’d be punished for it.
“You shouldn’t forget I’m the Ashpaw, sir,” she said. “I mustn’t be spoken to or—”
“Touched?” he asked, tilting his head. His hand hovered over her chest, so close that if she breathed too deeply there would be contact.
“Doesn’t seem fair, because I’ve heard the Solvekh whispering about Alpha Eidan’s attention towards you. His words, his touches… Do the rules for the Ashpaw not apply to him? Or do you only enforce them with me?”
“Please,” she begged softly. “Alpha Darion will punish me if anyone intervenes.”
“Will he, now?” he chuffed. “Seems the Sabletail alpha brothers have both taken a greater interest in the Ashpaw than I’ve ever seen them do before. And do you know why that is?”
She shook her head.
“Neither do I.” He turned to look at the head table over his shoulder, and Fern dared a peek as well.
Now all the alphas were watching.
Harland growled.
“And I mean to find out.”
* * *
The dining hall had emptied of Lurvekh over an hour ago, and the Solvekh had finished their cleaning.
For a brief moment, she wondered if Darion had been too distracted to remember her punishment. At the end of the dinner, she’d heard a scream, and looked up to see it was merely Kyntha being thrown over his shoulder as he left, the wolfkin laughing and cheering them on.
He would probably be busy all night, the thought still twisting her stomach uncomfortably.
But then a guard walked into the room and straight for her, and she cursed herself for daring to hope that even bedding Kyntha wouldn’t keep him from making sure Fern was suffering.
“It’s time, Ashpaw.”
Her vision sparkled around the periphery, and her skin felt cold.
“Can… Can I bring my broom?”
The guard looked at her, taken aback and mouth open for a moment before responding. “Um… were you planning on throwing it on somebody?”
Now it was Fern’s turn to be surprised. “I can’t say that I was, but now that you mention it…”
She met his eyes for a moment, a hint of mirth crinkling the corners, and then he nodded. “Very well. Follow me.”
They’d only just made it to the first staircase when Eidan intercepted him.
“I have her from here.”
Confusion eclipsed the guard’s features, and before he could respond, Eidan’s large hand wrapped around her arm and he pulled her up as they climbed.
“I take it I still need to sleep… there,” she said.
He grunted softly. “Darion would not budge, and the rest of the alphas… it’s complicated,” he said. “I’m trying, believe me. But until then, I have something that might help.”