Challenge
Alex
When we returned to Raven Hall, the mansion was in turmoil. The servants were gathered in the entrance hall, talking over each other. The butler was shouting, ordering the maids and footmen to return to their work.
“What’s the meaning of this?” I advanced deeper into the room, and the chatter died down.
“Let me explain.” Graves swaggered his way towards me. “I was telling everyone that our duke is mentally unstable and, as the constitution of the Dark Court states, a mentally unstable duke should be deposed.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I strode past him, heading for the sweeping stairs.
He closed his hand around my arm with speed and strength. I recoiled and shrugged free, but a wave of nausea rose anyway. I shivered, forcing myself to stay calm. My skin burnt, and invisible claws ripped my chest apart.
He came close to me. “You’re sick. You don’t touch anyone and don’t want anyone to touch you not because you’re an eccentric duke, but because you’re deranged.
Your fear cripples you. If I hadn’t been present that night at the hospital, Tanner would have fled.
You didn’t chase him because there were too many people around you, and you were shivering and feeling sick. ”
I clenched and unclenched my fists. He was right.
He pointed at Irene. “I’m sure that Irene was stabbed for the same reason. Your fear of being touched must have frozen you, and a thug stabbed her.”
“Is that true, Ravenhill?” Myrtha asked. “Did you fail to protect Irene because of a condition?”
Keeping my problem hidden was one thing, but lying was another.
“Yes, it is true,” I said as Irene said, “No, it isn’t.”
Myrtha shifted her gaze from Irene to me.
“Ravenhill, Irene almost died because you have a condition we knew nothing about. Instead of telling me and asking for help, you stalked London with her, aware something like that could have happened. And I felt guilty all this time, thinking Irene’s incident had been my fault. ”
Hell. I pressed my lips together.
“He’s a liability for all of us.” Graves spread his arms. “Is he the type of leader you want?”
“What is your point, Graves?” I focused on him. It was easier than focusing on Myrtha.
“I’m challenging you for the role of Duke of the Dark Court.” Graves gave a bow of his head.
Myrtha wrung her hands. Fiona didn’t look surprised. Cara seemed interested. Others shook their heads.
Darius stood next to me. “Graves is thinking of his own gain. He holds a grudge against Knight and seeks revenge. That’s all.”
Graves raised his fists. “I have the right to challenge an unstable duke.”
Darius waved his hands, and a glimmering light formed a shield around me. “You aren’t doing anything.”
No, I couldn’t hide behind my friend. Not this time. I’d managed to hide the real reason behind my disgust for touching for too long. No one had ever witnessed my crises, aside from Irene and Darius. The dark courtiers had no idea how deep my condition was. I wouldn’t hide anymore.
“Darius.” I waved him away. “Graves has the right to challenge me, and I’ll fight him and end this pointless conversation.”
Besides, Graves was doing what I would do, and he was right. My infirmity was a liability to the court. Irene had nearly faded because of me.
I stepped outside, glad the sun was lowering on the horizon. Graves followed me. The others gathered around, forming a wide circle.
Graves cracked his knuckles, his muscles growing.
I released my power. My sight, smell, and hearing sharpened.
I heard Irene’s quickening heartbeat and sensed the pungent fear in her blood.
Dozens of heartbeats drummed, and thirst scratched my throat.
Graves’s blood smelt of worn leather and strong spices. He was unleashing his inner wolf.
He stood in front of me, his fangs, claws, and fur coming out, too. His face changed into a wolf’s face.
We didn’t speak but moved at the same time.
He hit me with a combination of punches that made me grit my teeth. If he believed my reaction to punches would be the same as to a hug, he was sorely mistaken. The pain of the blows kept my disgust down, not completely gone but manageable.
When I sank my teeth into his neck, his fur filled my mouth, but my fangs reached his vein. He cried out, either in pain or pleasure, kneeling in front of me.
His shove pushed me backwards. Digging my heels into the ground, I slowed down my momentum before lunging. Graves was bleeding from the neck and panting. Another advantage of being undead was that my heartbeat didn’t change much when I was stressed, while his was in a frenzy.
He was a strong sod though and took the brunt of the impact without flinching. When I was about to bite him, he tackled me and sent me sprawling to the ground. I hit my head and remained motionless, waiting for the world to stop spinning. He took advantage of my disorientation to straddle me.
That was different. The strong contact was sheer torture.
He placed his wide hands on my chest.
Bitter bile filled my mouth. Tremors gripped me. Sweat dampened my shirt.
“Get off me.” I sounded like a scared child.
He sniffed close to my neck, likely smelling my fear.
Panic threatened to freeze me. My vision darkened at the edges as my power withdrew. The involuntary twitches started, and my teeth chattered.
His fur receded until his human features returned.
He held my chin, and disgust at the contact with his skin choked me.
“You aren’t scary at all.” Graves laughed.
In a last attempt to push him off me, I put a hand on his chest, shaking. I barely grazed him when he was tossed backwards and landed on the ground.
It hadn’t been me. I’d pushed him, but not with enough strength to shove him. It must have been Darius. I would discuss it with him later, but for now, I didn’t waste the opportunity and reverted our position. I latched my mouth onto Graves’s neck and drank. And drank. And drank.
Anger and fear weren’t good advisers. Graves’s heartbeat slowed. He stopped struggling. Between the pleasure of the bite and the fatigue from the blood loss, he passed out. His fur receded, leaving tender skin exposed.
“Alex!” A soft hand tapped my shoulder, and I raised my head from Graves’s neck, ready to yell.
Irene didn’t leap back. “Stop. You’re killing him.”
He deserved to die for having challenged me. If I let him live, he would try again.
I licked his blood from my lips. “He dies.” My voice sounded as dark and cavernous as an abyss.
She crouched next to me and spoke in a whisper. “You worry about your humanity. This is the moment to prove to yourself you aren’t a slave to the blood. This is the moment to fight for your soul. Let him go.”
Her sweet scent reached my senses, and her words worked their way painfully through the haze of my bloodlust. A vision of my reflection becoming blurry shocked me.
As the urge to kill receded, the horror of the contact with Graves advanced. I shot up, watching the blood on his pale neck.
I wiped my mouth on the sleeve of my shirt, ignoring the urge to drink more, to drink everything. “Someone take him inside and attend to him. This is the end of the conversation.”
I didn’t wait to see if my orders were followed and strode inside without sparing a glance at Graves. People hurried to move out of my way.
I shut the door to my bedroom with a kick and removed my jacket, waistcoat, and shirt, lobbing them on the floor. Graves’s blood stained my hands, and I wasn’t sure how it made me feel.
I heard Darius’s and Irene’s heartbeats before they slipped inside.
“How are you, mate?” He didn’t come too close.
“You shouldn’t have done it.” I scrubbed my hands with lye soap.
“Done what?”
“Don’t lie!” I couldn’t stop myself from growling. “You intervened.”
He scowled. “I didn’t do anything.”
“Liar.”
“I did,” Irene said. “I didn’t mean to, but I was worried about you, and my power came out. I don’t regret it. You were about to kill him. Why?”
“Why? Because that’s what I am!” I had to scrub my skin raw, or I would go mad.
Irene didn’t flinch. “You aren’t a murderer. Don’t hide behind your curse. You’re responsible for your choices, and you chose to kill Graves.”
“You don’t understand.” I used a brush to scour my face and arms. Harder. Harder. I needed the cleansing pain of the scrub. “He challenged me. He deserved to die. That’s the law of the court.”
“You’re the duke. You can do as you please.”
“And I decide who lives.”
She pressed her lips hard. She stood close enough to get wet with the drops of water. “You’ll never keep your power in the court if you govern through fear. It works for a while, but people need to trust you. You did a very poor job of that today. Would you please stop scrubbing yourself so hard?”
“I can’t! That’s what you don’t understand. I can’t be who you want.”
“No, you can’t, if you keep repeating that.” She stormed out of the bedroom.
Darius didn’t need to tell me he agreed with her.
I kept scrubbing myself, ignoring the urge to follow her. She had to understand my curse couldn’t be broken. I froze when I glimpsed my reflection in the mirror. It was slightly blurred on one side.
“I never admit to having made a mistake.” Darius picked up my dirty clothes and put them on a chair. “I don’t usually make mistakes, but I’ll admit that I should have been more helpful. I covered up your problem by pretending you didn’t fear touching people, and that created a whole new problem.”
He lingered as if waiting for me to say something, but I had nothing to say.
“Well.” He shrugged. “I’ll be in my bedroom if you need anything, like wisdom.”
He walked out of the room and closed the door softly. And I was alone with my demons.