Chapter 21 #2
I want to tell her I hate that question, that I hate being in charge, that I never wanted this, that I’m fully incapable of figuring this fucking mess out.
“I don’t know,” I admit. It’s the only answer I have.
She nods, and it somehow feels like the perfect response. There is nothing else to say, but a grim, silent acceptance of the facts.
Holly and Luca return just as the snow begins to fall. “No sign of them,” Luca huffs, slamming the door behind him with enough force to rattle the kitchen walls.
I’m in the kitchen eating with Asmo and Cally. She flinches at the sound, tea spilling over the rim of her mug. Asmo sets his bowl down and pokes his head into the living room. “Looking for me?” he asks, devilish smile on his face.
“Where is she?” Luca responds, voice low and threatening.
What is it with these males?
“I’m here and I’m unharmed,” I call from the kitchen. “We got caught up, but we’re fine.”
Holly comes around the corner, a smile forming as she sees me. Luca gives me a quick once-over, then nods curtly and turns back toward the living room. We all settle into our usual seats in the living room while Cally remains in the kitchen.
Asmo lights a fire in the small hearth. The crackling of the kindle does something to my soul, calming it in a way that I didn’t know I needed.
Ivan catches Holly and Luca up on our failure of a visit to House Ursidae. “We’ll be visiting Panthera in a few days to speak with Prince Koa,” he says.
Luca grimaces. “We have a problem.”
Dread twists in my gut. “What?” I ask.
“I’m not so sure that Panthera will be willing to help us,” he says as he shifts in his chair. “They’ve begun publicly executing witch dissenters.”
My blood runs cold, and the fire stutters in the hearth. “Witch dissenters?” I ask. “As in, people who disagree with the witches?”
Luca’s answering nod is grim. A shudder works its way through me, the slow crawl of horror. I close my eyes, as if that will do anything to stop it.
“No,” I say. “They wouldn’t do that. They can’t do that. Koa would never agree to it.”
Ivan’s face is as white as the snow falling outside. Holly stands against the wall, silently bobbing her head. Asmo’s thigh is rigid against mine. Cally stares at us all in mute horror, frozen in the kitchen, still clutching her mug.
“Koa may not be doing this, but his parents are nearly as ruthless as mine,” Asmo mutters. “Fuck. There’s no way they’ll agree to help us if they’re already in bed with Marik.”
I shake my head. “Forget that for now. When did this start? Why is nobody stopping this?” My voice is a weird mix of desperation and disgust.
“We visited Beckinsdale this morning, hoping to glean some information about your whereabouts,” Luca says with a pointed glare.
“Instead, we found a female cougar hybrid hanging in the town square. She was the second execution in two days, according to a local shopkeeper. The next one will be tomorrow at sunrise.”
Bile surges upward, and I can’t take it anymore.
I can’t hear about bodies hanging, about innocent hybrids being slaughtered, about prisoners left emaciated and children being thrown into dungeons.
The door bangs shut behind me. I storm into the forest, thick snowflakes falling like ashes all around me.
The soft thud of footsteps follows close behind.
I don’t have to turn to know it’s Asmo. I have always known when he’s near.
I face him. White snowflakes rest on his raven hair, his rosy cheeks. His hands are shoved into his pockets and his shoulders are hunched.
And I can’t stand it. I can’t fucking stand it.
I close my eyes, ball my hands into fists, and scream. Birds take flight, their answering calls shrill as they cut through the night. Do they scream, too, for what we have become?
I scream until my face is red and I’m hunched over and gasping for air and all I can think about is the roaring in my head.
Asmo pulls me into his arms. The ball of panic inside my chest begins to calm. The roaring quiets.
“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” I whisper into his chest.
“Why do you think you’re alone in figuring this out?” His voice is low.
I pull back, but he’s staring at the line of trees, his gaze distant, glassy.
“Because it’s my job. It’s what I was born to do. You can walk away, any time. You can leave whenever you want and all of this will still be on me.”
His jaw clenches. “Do you really think so low of me? Besides, I don’t think I could walk away if I tried.”
I shove against him, but he grips me tighter. “You did though. Remember? You walked away from me.” I don’t know why I say it, but I’m pissed and hurt and terrified that he’ll do it again. Some part of me feels a little guilty for bringing it up, but only a very small part.
“Stop,” he says, now looking down at me. “Don’t turn this into an argument about us.” He turns away from me, and the cold wraps around me once more. I fight the urge to reach for him again. “So Marik and Cora are ramping up their plans. Stop wallowing and do something about it.”
I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him, gnashing my teeth together as I bite back a litany of responses.
He’s right, but I don’t know what to do.
“I feel helpless,” I admit. “I can’t do anything to save anyone.
Even if I wanted to go help the Panthera hybrids, I have no idea how to make a portal.
I have no idea if I can even funnel. What the fuck am I supposed to do? ”
“You say you feel helpless, so start by taking some control back.”
I grit my teeth. “How?”
“Shift.”
“I don’t know how to, Asmo.”
He draws in a deep breath, then releases it, as if I’m the one testing his patience. “Everyone’s method of shifting is different. You have to find what yours is on your own.”
“Well, what’s yours?”
He shrugs, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “I just do it. It’s become ingrained in me. But when I was first learning, I’d picture myself as a snake, slithering in the sun.”
“There’s the other thing. You’re a snake.”
He gives me a blank look. “So?”
“You have fangs. That’s dangerous.” I gesture to my antlers. “What the hell kind of threat does a deer pose?”
He pulls a hand from his pocket. “Speed, stealth, heightened senses, weapons built on top of your head.” He extends a finger for each advantage.
“I guess,” I grumble.
“There you go again. Enough.”
I ignore him. “How do I funnel?”
“If you can shift, then funneling should come naturally to you. Envision yourself in another location, then imagine the wind rushing around you and the scene fading as you step into your destination. You have to believe it will work. Otherwise, it won’t.”
“Where am I supposed to go?” I ask, uncrossing my arms and looking around the desolate forest.
“Somewhere you can see.”
I quirk an eyebrow. “Then how am I ever supposed to funnel to new places?”
“That comes with practice. Just focus on this for now.” His voice is calm, despite my blatant and misdirected attitude.
He places a warm hand on my shoulder and turns me, pointing toward a large, snow-covered rock.
“Imagine funneling there. You can see it. Picture the wind swirling around you as you step toward it.”
I stare so hard at the rock that it feels like I might burn a hole through it.
I inhale, then exhale and concentrate on doing what Asmo said.
I focus my mind, imagining every other time I’ve funneled, the wind spinning around me like a vortex.
I move forward, but I’m only one step closer to the rock.
“Try again,” Asmo whispers.
This time, I settle into my magic, focusing on my connection to the earth.
Instead of thinking of wind, I reach for it, pulling it toward me and coaxing it around me.
I don’t have to imagine the wind whipping around me—I can feel it.
I stare at the rock, envisioning the wind whisking me away in its gentle embrace.
Suddenly, the rock is within reach. A grin steals across my face and I turn to Asmo.
He stares at me through the trees with a smirk.
“Now come back!” he yells.
I close my eyes and think about the wind transporting me into Asmo’s arms. It whips around me, then dies. Warmth radiates from Asmo as he stands before me. I grin up at him.
“You caught onto that so quickly.” He beams. “Do it again.”
Normally, I would protest at the idea of being ordered around. But I funnel again, this time directly onto the rock, staring at Asmo with triumph. “Come ba—”
I funnel directly in front of him, the wind stirring strands of his hair.
He was right. I already feel like I have more control. I could go anywhere. My breath hitches as I think about where I can go now, and what I can do.
“What?” Asmo looks at me, one eyebrow raised.
“Nothing.” My net tugs with the lie.