"We did. At first though, there seemed to be nothing of value. But like all the best legends, it had a secret room filled with unimaginable treasures. And, like all those legends, the find was a double edge sword. Because it contained an immense silver disk. A magic so old, it's been forgotten for generations."
Sterling stopped, looking lost and searching before simply saying, "It changed us."
The simple, stark statement carried a profound weight.
But it wasn't the unexpectedness that chilled Myra.
It was the familiarity of it.
Once, she'd found herself faced with ancient magic she had no hope of ever understanding. And the change it caused in her could destroy everything.
Pressing her lips together, she ignored the silvery thread of reaction and focused on Sterling when he began speaking again.
"None of us remember exactly what happened in that room, but when we came back to ourselves, we had two forms. And a whole new set of senses, instincts, and abilities to go with them. As we worked together to gain control, we became more than a team. We became a pack."
Myra envied him for the bonds the wolf had gifted him with.
Then again, he'd always had a team. She'd been alone even before her brush with the Mirror King. Myra was too used to hiding, to choosing solitude over the risk of hurting even more.
"A few years ago a young thief named Jack stumbled into our midst and became part of the family," Sterling continued, unknowingly pressing the knife of self-pity a little deeper. "We didn't know it at the time, but he was drake. A special one. He was also the foster son of Velia of Ardell."
That startled Myra out of her spiral of wistfulness and dejection.
"The Grey Enchantress?"
"You've heard of her?"
"Everyone's heard of her," Myra answered. "She's nearly as infamous as the Mirror King on the mountain. Cruel, evil, and power-hungry. My agent carried gossip that there was some kind of coup in Ardell last summer. That the enchantress might have been involved in it."
"That was her. And us," Sterling admitted with a sigh. "Jack fell in love with Princess Kynara. And then got himself captured by the Grey Enchantress, who intended to use him as a sacrifice."
"Sacrifice?" Myra repeated, shocked and incredulous. "His own foster mother?"
Sterling nodded grimly. "Like I said, Jack is special. I gave my word not to share his secrets but, let's just say Velia believed his death would give her more power. It was the sole reason she took him in to begin with."
He grimaced, a sorrowful expression filled with pain for his friend and impotent rage at the abuse he'd endured.
"There was no way we were leaving him in her hands," Sterling explained with bone-deep resolve. "So the pack took up with the princess and went and took him back."
Some of the tension bled out of his shoulders and his voice eased with the reminder that they'd saved him.
"By the time we rescued Jack, along with Kyn's brothers, from Velia's clutches, there was no turning back."
Affection and pride filled his voice and Sterling shrugged nonchalantly as if he wasn't talking about facing off against a ruthless, evil sorceress. And apparently winning.
"It took a few battles and dangerous situations and the help of the princesses of Glicien, but we helped Kyn and her brothers reclaim their kingdom. And save the Queen from a curse. Eventually, Velia was defeated once and for all."
"So, after all that, instead of resting, you decided to make a trip up Mount Acaelum and take on the Mirror King?" Myra asked, incredulous.
"Not exactly," Sterling answered with a quirk of his lips. "You see, Velia left behind a tower full of dangerous relics and magic objects. Jelverck and I—"
"Jelverck?" Myra asked with startled confusion. "He's the right hand of the Grey Enchantress. At least in all the stories told on the mountain."
"Not anymore. He was bound to obey her by blood magic. After he was freed from the spell, he helped my pack and the Royal Family of Ardell stop her, once and for all." Sterling's expression tightened with grief.
"He is a good man who made one wrong choice and suffered greatly for it. Now he's doing his best to atone for his past. Part of that was making sure Velia's evil was contained. He led me and a small team to the Grey Tower and helped us deal with the magic and the relics left behind. While we were clearing it out, we discovered a letter from the Mirror King."
The scowl returned to Sterling's face. As did the tense lines of concern.
"He offered his services for a price. Claimed he had a way to control wolf-shifters. To make sure we would never be a problem for her again."
Sterling sighed and ran his hand over his face, like he was trying to wipe away the fury that lay heavy in his words.
"My team. My pack. They're my family. The only family I have."
Sterling moved then, slipping off the hearth to kneel beside her and meet her eyes straight on. He hid nothing from her. Left himself openly vulnerable and showed her the depth of his desperation. "I have to protect them."
Myra knew what was coming and braced herself. Because part of her wanted to help. She'd longed for that kind of connection, that kind of family for so long, she knew, if she ever found it, she'd do anything to protect them.
"You have to help me find him," he whispered, soft and beseeching. His heart bled into the request and it twisted through Myra with poignant anguish.
If he had demanded, she might have been able to stand firm. To hold on to her resolve. But in the face of his plea and the anguished need to protect his own, she couldn't outright refuse.
The best she could do was try to talk him out of it.
"You can't go after him," she said softly, reaching out to grasp his hand in hers. "It's too dangerous. He's too dangerous."
Chapter Five
STERLING HAD EXPECTED Myra to keep arguing. To keep denying her knowledge and fighting him.
The delicate touch of her fingers pressed against his. The flicker of worry, for him, shadowing her expression. The quiet hint of admission in her words.
It all took him by surprise.
As did the momentary impulse to reassure her. To try to soothe the darkness and anxiety with soft promises.
But there were no promises to make. No guarantees.
"I know it's dangerous. But I still have to try." Sterling swallowed hard, wishing he had Zane's silver tongue to better explain. To make her understand.
He just had to hope sincere honesty was enough.
"It's not just about my pack. Even if there wasn't a threat to them, I couldn't turn away from this. Knowing what I know now about the Taken, I could never turn my back when the Mirror King was still a danger. Every story I heard on the way up the mountain was another promise to myself. And to the children of Mount Acaelum. That I would do everything in my power to stop him."
Her gaze remained steady on him, but another bit of Myra's defenses slipped. She let him see the turmoil and pain and fear she carried with her.
"I was one of the lucky ones, you know. One of the Taken who got back home. Not everyone returns with a bag of coins. Some never return at all." Myra blew a deep breath, eyes clouded and heavy with grief. "And some are found, but not alive. Not... whole."
"I've heard those stories, too," Sterling admitted. "Somehow, whatever the Mirror King is trying to do goes wrong. That it changes some."
And the lurid descriptions of the twisted chimeras, victims horrifyingly mutated into something unrecognizable.
He had no doubt they suffered greatly.
"If he finds you anywhere near his lair, he'll experiment on you too," Myra insisted, concern and horror at the thought stretching her voice until it cracked. Dropping into a raw whisper, she added, "If he realizes what you are, it will only make it worse.”
Sterling pressed his other hand over hers, cradling her fingers.
"I understand the risks I'm taking. But I have to try. The mountain isn't saf
e with him free. My pack is at risk."
"Then why aren't they here with you?" she demanded, tears bright and unshed in her eyes.
Guilt he'd been trying to ignore for weeks roared to life and he admitted reluctantly, "Because I haven't told them everything."
Sterling had started this quest intending only to find out more about the Mirror King. But he'd come too far and learned too much to turn back now.
His pack would be furious if they found out he'd gone into danger without them. When they found out. As much as Sterling eschewed any label of leadership, the urge to protect was deep-rooted in his nature. He'd do anything for his pack. Even keep secrets from them.
"They've been through a lot the last few months," he explained defensively, knowing it wasn't much of an excuse.
"Haven't you been through the same things?" she asked with quiet compassion.
Sterling nodded, unable to speak around the unexpected knot in his throat.
Her free hand stroked along his temple, brushing softly through his hair. He smiled a little, remembering the hesitant way she'd petted him when he'd worn his other form.
This wasn't anything like that, though. There was comfort in the caress, and an intimacy he couldn't define. But, no matter what form he was in, Sterling couldn't help leaning into her touch.
Sterling lost track of everything but the feel of her fingers on his skin. He had no idea how long they sat like that. Only the sounds of the crackling fire and wind outside underscoring the interlude of quiet contentment.
But it couldn't last forever.
"You’re going to go no matter what, aren't you?" she asked finally, resignation heavy in her voice.
"Yes."
"If I tell you what I remember you have to promise two things."
"All right. I promise."
"Don't you want to know what they are first?" Myra asked with a soft, exasperated laugh.
"No. I trust you."
Her laughter fled, eyes wide and shocked by his simple admission. He'd known how isolated her life had been. But, in this moment, Sterling understood it for the first time.
There'd been no one in her life to trust her. No one she could trust or depend on in return. A curl of need took Sterling by surprise. A soul-deep urge to be the someone she could lean on.
Shaking off her surprise, Myra smiled softly.
"I'm trusting you, too." Her voice cracked as she spoke, but she didn't let it stop her. "Because the first promise I'm asking is that you not let him know I told you. You can't let him know that I remember anything."
"And the second promise?"
"You can't ask for any more details than what I give you. Some of that... I can't tell you. I can't ever tell anyone."
Sterling wanted to protest. Every bit of knowledge he gleaned would be a weapon against the Mirror King. But Myra had lowered her guard enough to trust him to protect her secret, and that was already more than he had any right to expect.
Besides, he'd already promised.
So instead of arguing, he squeezed her hand between his and nodded. "You have my oath. Not one word. Not one question."
Myra's shoulders slumped in relief, and she leaned forward until their foreheads touched. For a moment, they just breathed together.
Then Myra began to speak, voice tight and controlled as she shared secrets she'd kept locked away for years.
"When you get to the end of the winding road, don't keep trying to go up over the rockslide. Instead, turn west and look for a boulder shaped like a pig..."
***
Despite a long night of restless sleep, morning came too soon as far as Myra was concerned.
Guilt, worry, and fear fought for her attention all night, weaving themselves into a tight ball of dread weighing heavy in her chest.
She dragged her feet through breakfast, wanting to delay Sterling's departure as long as possible.
Now though, the food was finished, the wood was stocked, and he was leaving. Myra could only sit and watch while he bundled up to face the cold on his trek back to the Winding Road.
Today, he needed to return to Benhalle to collect his gear and load up on supplies.
At first light tomorrow, Sterling would head back up the mountain to face a deadly and unpredictable enemy.
Myra desperately wanted to construct an argument that would convince him to change his mind. Or at least wait.
But she knew it was no use. Sterling was determined to protect his pack and the people of Mount Acaelum, and even Myra, from the Mirror King.
So instead of trying to talk him out of his plan, she'd grudgingly offered him her extra pair of snowshoes to make the trek easier.
Despite the desperate hold she tried to keep on her thoughts, though, her tongue had a mind of its own.
"You will be careful?" Myra blurted out before she could stop herself.
Sterling stopped what he was doing and stepped closer, taking Myra's hands in his, holding them up between their bodies.
"I've been in tight spots before," he reminded her. "I've fought in battles. I've faced the Grey Enchantress. And I've been run out of more than one potential treasure site by an angry mob."
Myra knew Sterling was trying to make her smile, but she couldn't muster up even a glimmer of humor.
Instead, she asked, "But you weren't alone for any of that, were you?"
"No," he admitted reluctantly. "But I have to do this anyway."
"I know," Myra whispered. And she did. It was obvious Sterling had a protective streak a mile wide. And defending his pack was only the start of it. As he met the Taken, every story added to his determination to put a stop to the Mirror King once and for all.
No matter how dangerous.
There was no talking him out of going, regardless how much she wanted to. So Myra simply repeated herself. "I know. Just, please be careful."
"I will. Believe it or not, this is a calculated risk, not a reckless one. I do have some advantages the Mirror King won't be expecting."
Sterling was betting an awful lot on the assumption. Trusting that, while the Mirror King knew about wolves, he probably wouldn't recognize Sterling as one until it was too late. That anonymity and a handful of relics his friend had passed along were the only advantages he needed to face the man who'd terrorized an entire mountain for decades.
Myra raised a doubt-filled eyebrow but made no comment. Sterling chuckled anyway and squeezed her hands reassuringly before letting go to wrestle with the snowshoes.
When he was ready to go, Myra trailed him to the door, shivering at the cool wind when he cracked it open.
Pausing in the doorway, Sterling's eyes locked on hers with intense sincerity. "When I'm done, I'll bring you back your snowshoes."
Myra exhaled sharply, wanting to laugh and cry at the same time. Because it was more than an attempt at levity. It was an unspoken promise that he was coming back. That they would see one another again.
And that, maybe, he felt the unexpected connection and affection growing between them as well.
Myra wanted to cling to his words. To the tacit promise. But a lifetime of disappointment had taught her not to hope.
Instead, she gave in to impulse and threw her arms around his shoulders, holding on with all of her strength.
Sterling pulled her in close and held her with equal ferocity. Myra rested her head against his chest, breathing in his scent. Melting into the embrace, Myra wished she never had to let go.
But he wasn't staying. And despite what he said, Myra knew there was a good chance she'd never see him again, no matter whether he succeeded or failed.
Because no one ever kept promises made they made to her.
So she forced herself to let go, gratified that he seemed just as reluctant to step away from her.
Even as she put space between them, he reached out, fingers lingering on her cheek before his hand dropped away.
"Goodbye, Zemyra."
"G
oodbye, Sterling."
He walked out of the door and Myra stood in the cold and watched him go until he disappeared into the trees.
Then she resolutely closed the door.
It was only then that she noticed her childhood sampler laying on the table where he'd left it. And that Sterling's half-finished attempt to copy the embroidery was gone.
He'd taken it with him.
Chapter Six
THE QUIET SOLITUDE of Myra's cottage became oppressive and untenable. So, after Sterling left, she'd retreated to her weaving shed and threw herself into her work.
Driven by a frenzied need for distraction, she'd done more in two days than she'd accomplished in the whole week before Sterling barged into her life.
No matter how hard she worked, however, a growing whisper of warning tugged at her constantly.
Every time the whisper demanded her attention, Myra threw herself more thoroughly into her work. Doing her level best to drown out the worry and certainty with labor that left her too tired to dwell on the rising sense of impending doom.
Because knowing what was coming had never done her any good.
Knowing didn't mean she could stop it. Didn't mean she could prepare herself for the damage and destruction of whatever disaster crashed into her life.
Over and over, she'd been helpless in the face of fate. As a child, she'd felt the oppressive weight of oncoming tragedy. Even without fully understanding what the feeling meant, she'd tried to tell her mother. To warn her that something dark and dangerous was coming for her. But her mother had already known. And had been just as helpless to sidestep destiny.
Their foresight had done them no good. There was no way to evade the breathing sickness. And there was no cure once it took hold of her mother.
She'd felt the rising foreboding several times in the years after her mother's death. Sweeping illnesses, life-altering storms, dangerous strangers. She'd felt the portents of them all and never said a word. The villagers had already regarded her with suspicion and disdain. The Milners had taken her in for the free labor. But they'd also watched Myra closely for signs she'd inherited the cursed gifts that made her mother an outcast.
The Snow Wolf (Wolves Ever After Book 1) Page 4