Chapter Eleven
Kade
Stars above, Kade’d screwed up.
What had he been thinking? Evelyn was dying, and he’d abandoned her. Moons. He had to get back to her.
Kade clawed at the seams of his cell’s metal door until his fingers bled.
He’d found no luck with a loose stone in the wall around him.
Briny winds crept in from the window, melding with the stench of mildew and piss.
He’d already tried to break out that way, but it was far too narrow to fit through.
Thunder shook Tùir, and Kade banged his hands against the door. He hated the power coursing through his blood, the reason he’d fear himself and why he’d retreated from Evelyn.
It’s an abomination.
Circe’s shrill voice echoed in Kade’s mind. He didn’t wish to believe it, but the scent of Evelyn’s burned flesh roiled his stomach. He’d hurt Todd weeks ago, and now his mate. Who would he harm next? When would his luck run out and he more than hurt someone?
“You taste like darkness, so very, very sweet.”
Kade snapped his head up, focusing ahead.
On the other side of the metal door, someone hummed a jolly tune.
But who? He’d not heard or smelled anyone since the witches had deposited him in the cell.
He stood and walked towards the door on cautious feet, the absence of his wolf jarring as his instinct sensed other.
He peered through the barred slit in the door and fought the urge to rear back as a male’s face appeared, and an all milky-white eye roamed over him.
It swiveled on its own accord, while the other eye, russet with flecks of crimson, pinned him in place.
Chains grated against the stone as he paced the hall, and Kade stilled further.
“Who are you?” he asked. “What are you?”
“Tenebris, witch, and prisoner.”
Yet, he wasn’t in a cell. How?
The witch giggled. “Delighted to discover the darkness has brought a new friend.”
Kade’s hackles rose. “I’m not a friend.”
As pale as bone, Tenebris’s face split into a too-wide smile.
Teeth, brown and yellow with decay and sharp as needles, pierced his bottom lip and drew blood.
“Right, right. Forgive my excitement. I haven’t had someone on this floor in over a century, and one becomes lonely when all one’s friends die. ”
A century. Kade’s blood turned to ice. Sorin didn’t have a hundred years, but he doubted Evelyn, Eldrick, or the Gray Fenris would allow Circe to lock him away that long. Neither would he, despite his own fuckup of landing himself here.
“Why are you here, Tenebris?” he asked.
The witch tilted his head. “Same as you. I’m a witch who used dark magic.”
“I’m not a witch,” Kade bit out. Nor had he used dark magic.
Doubt snaked through him. Was he certain about that? With a frustrated growl, he shoved his shoulder against the door. The metal rattled with the force, but not enough to budge.
The white eye darted left while the reddish brown one widened. “Ah, that is why your magic tastes so different.”
Kade ignored any mention of his power, hating that he couldn’t sense it, and yet this witch still felt it. “Why aren’t you in a cell? How did you get out?”
“The darkness helped me—could help you, too, if you let it.”
“No.” Kade gritted his teeth.
“Why not?” Tenebris asked. “Your power rises in darkness, has the force to shine with it.”
“You’re wrong.” Kade shook his head. “I am Kade Drengr, Son of the God and third born, prophesied to defeat the darkness.”
The witch tilted his head back and cackled with laughter, his bony collarbone pressing out of his tattered clothes. “Why are you so certain which god gave you that power, hmm?” He stepped towards Kade’s cell. “You could burn the world. Rule it.”
Kade’s stomach back flipped. With the enchanted walls, no part of his power, new or his inner wolf, answered. It was only his heart racing against the prospect that he was darkness. Perhaps that was why he couldn’t control it. Maybe that was why more harm than good came from it.
A door groaned down the corridor, and Tenebris squeaked. “I best be going.”
“Wait,” Kade said.
But the witch ignored him, disappearing into the shadows of the hall, chains and feet eerily silent.
More light bled down the hall on the left.
Three sets of boots clattered against the stone, and Kade narrowed his gaze, inspecting their silhouettes and attire.
One was cloaked, and two others glinted in the Guard’s signature gold-and-black uniforms. They were still too far to make out the colors of their coven, but Kade inhaled, trying to gage their scents.
One was familiar. Medicinal, herby, and—
“Mirella,” he breathed, as Evelyn’s eldest sister stopped outside his door.
She dropped her hood, revealing her blonde hair slicked back in a low, tidy bun. She smiled. “Good evening, Kade.”
“What am I?” Ruth planted her hands on her hips. “Scáth dinner?”
Kade almost smiled, a hundred questions hurrying up his throat, but stopped. Both Mirella and Ruth gave him a pointed look, widening their eyes a fraction that screamed, Don’t.
For a Guard joined them last. Unlike Ruth, her colors glistened Burns coven green. She kept a wide berth from the cell, eying Kade with disdain.
Ruth shot her a glare with enough power to freeze the desert lands of Cirilo. “Well, are you going to let us in or not?”
“I’m not permitted to open his cell,” the Guard said. “Circe’s orders—”
“She isn’t here, and yet we are,” Ruth said, brows raised. “I outrank you, protector. Elder Carson also sits on the Council. Her orders outrank us all.”
The Guard gritted her teeth. “You requested to speak to the prisoner.”
Mirella snorted. “I requested to see Kade. I’m a healer and can’t do my job through that door, now can I?”
The Guard’s nostrils flared as she debated. Kade remained silent, the tension in the corridor bristling with so many unsaid words. But eventually, the Guard relented. She retrieved a key from her uniform pocket and unlocked the cell.
Silence stretched as Mirella stood there, unblinking. “Break the enchantment.”
The Guard stumbled back. “What? He could shift into a wolf without that in place.”
“How do you expect her to help heal his injuries if she, too, is bound by the enchantment in the cell?” Ruth raised a brow.
Kade, again, remained silent and unmoving. He had no injuries to speak of, but kept his mouth shut.
The Guard swallowed and laid her hand against the metal door. She muttered a few words in Olde Script, and groves cranked as magic bristled.
Kade’s wolf reemerged, jumping and howling in his blood. He fisted his hands, relief washing over him at the feel of his inner beast, but another power reared to life. Immense. Tugging like the moon—
“Finally.” Mirella entered the cell. She dropped a satchel beside her and started riffling through it.
“Ah, here.” She handed Kade a waxy, blueberry-colored pellet.
“Chew this.” Kade followed orders, the Elder’s tone unbending, but paused as Mirella slipped a pellet into her mouth, too. “Go on. You’ll need it. Trust me.”
Kade chewed the pellet, the sour material stinging his tongue. His inner wolf wrestled as he swallowed it, an odd sensation coming over him.
“How’s Evelyn?” he asked.
“She’s fine.” Mirella didn’t meet his stare, and it was like a stone dropped in his stomach.
A growl rumbled through his chest. “Mirella—”
“Goddess, she warned me about this. Evelyn is fine, albeit a little angry.” The eldest Carson sister possessed a tone similar to that of a whip. It was harsh and demanding, and despite Kade’s better judgment, his inner wolf sat to attention, no interest in upsetting the witch.
She clucked her tongue, shaking her head at the Guard. “Are you just going to stand there? He doesn’t bite.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that.” Ruth winked.
Mirella cursed the gods.
Ruth rolled her eyes. “I’m joking.”
The Guard opened and closed her mouth, eyes fleeting over Kade. “Alright.”
Magic brimmed in the air as she joined Mirella’s side, eyes never leaving Kade. Those in the Vadon Mountains respected him, sure, and balked at his warrior reputation, but his kind didn’t fear him.
“You know,” Mirella went on, rummaging through her satchel again, “It’s rude to stare.”
The Guard narrowed her gaze. “Werewolves don’t have powers like him. It’s unnatural.”
Ruth snorted outside in the hall. “Hush. Are you an expert in all magical things now, third born?”
The Guard opened her mouth—
“That was a rhetorical question.” Mirella handed her an open jar and then a second. Lavender wafted from the paste and something else soothing and floral. Kade relaxed, the desire to close his eyes and sleep overcoming and then—zap. Magic shot through him, waking him and his inner wolf.
“Here’s another,” Mirella said, pushing a third jar into the Guard’s arms.
She huffed. “I only have two hands!”
Mirella waved her hand. “Shhh!”
She stood up, putting her hands on her hips, and just . . . stood there. Seconds ticked by, time crawling up Kade’s spine.
He cleared his throat. “Now what?”
“We wait.”
“Wait for . . . ” The Guard’s lashes fluttered, and she slurred her words. She teetered back and forth until her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed to the floor.
Kade stepped forward and halted. Her chest rose and fell, and a small sigh escaped the witch’s lips.
“She’s . . . asleep.” Kade raised a brow, peering up at Mirella.
Ruth poked her head into the cell. “Well done, Mirella.”
“If the Goddess is in favor of our mission, she’ll remain unconscious for the next eight hours.
That’s if someone doesn’t come looking for her first.” She positioned the jars into the corners of the cell.
“Sleep seaweed, by the way. Perfect for those with insomnia or in need of a good night’s rest or—”
“Knocking out a Guard for a rescue mission,” Ruth said.
Mirella hummed, a frighteningly bemused smile playing on her lips. “Precisely.”
Kade couldn’t contain his anxiety any longer, moments away from bursting at the seams. “What of Evelyn?”