“I never arrive at Malvena’s, should I die along the way, ye must kill her.”
“How dare you!” he roared, despairing at the thought. Uncaring if anyone heard, he’d never do it.
“Ye may think me cruel, but in fact I only want what’s best for her. She must not engage Malvena without me, because if she does, she may not kill the Black witch and then she’ll be haunted forever, she’ll never stay with you or anyone else. If, however, she does kill Malvena, that level of toxic power will destroy what remains of her sanity and reason. She will be forever lost and beyond all hope of redemption. Either way, she loses.”
Ewan slammed his fist into the wall and the dirt foundation fractured; sending a shower of silt to cover his bed.
A heart shaped pendant manifested from within the scroll and floated to him.
“That is the pendant of truth; I’ve spelled it to reveal the truth of the events of that night. She will need to see it to know the truth. She blames ye for all that happened that night, I deliberately blocked Jana’s deception from her mind. Violet will hate me, as I’m sure ye now do. But even so, I would ask ye to pray for our safe travel. I love my girl, and only want what’s best for her, and ye. May the goddess bless ye.”
The scroll suddenly caught in flame, the heat creeping off its green tinted hue burned his eyes. Within seconds, nothing remained of it save a fine black powder.
Ewan snatched up the pendant, heart racing, mouth dry, and wondering if any of that was true. But knowing deep in the depths of his cold, bleak soul that it was and he be damned if he’d let her die.
“I’ve only just found ye, lass. I’ll not let ye go, nay till I’m cold in the grave.” He curled his fingers around the dark purple stone and held it to his heart.
Sleep did not come for many hours.
A shadow stirred in his doorway. Ewan jumped to a crouching position, hearing the rapid breathing of a female. His female.
She smelled of jasmine, rich and earthy and his blood stirred, heating his veins and making him instantly alert.
“Red?” he asked as gently as he could, but couldn’t disguise the need trembling heavy in his brogue.
“It was you,” she said in a voice as dead as the ghoul’s.
He frowned. “Wha--”
“That night.”
She stepped inside the door, and though in human form, his eyes were sharp. He drank in the sight of her like a man parched. Still dressed in red, she was as a lovely wraith with her pale luminescent skin and large blue eyes.
“You’re the black wolf.” Her eyes were vacant, cold. “You killed her.”
He touched the jewel resting against his chest; he’d fallen asleep with it on. “Aye, I killed her, but it’s nay what ye think, Red.”
She didn’t even flinch. “I can’t even hurt you. I stood here in the door for an hour and you’re magic wouldn’t let me enter. Want to know why?” Such a sweet, soft voice. So at odds with its deadness.
Lifting the pendant over his head, he tried handing it to her. “This was given to me by Miriam, it’s the truth of that night. Come here, Red. Come.”
He beckoned her; an uneasy tension slithered up his spine, made the back of his neck tingle.
“For years I’ve thought of you. Obsessed about you, drawing your picture over and over. Always your eyes, they haunt me the most. And I knew when I met you, I’d seen you before. And I was right.”
He blinked. “Lass… please.”
“I hate you. I came here to kill you, to end your miserable life.”
Her words chilled his blood, froze the breath in his lungs. “I would never harm ye, lass. I vow it. I’ve searched for ye, loved ye then and now...”
She didn’t acknowledge his words, only pulled her hands from behind her back. Opening her hand, she showed him what she held. A thin silver hairpin, innocuous, and yet he knew it was more than a hairpin to her. It was long and sharp looking at its tip.
“Lass, what are ye--” He twitched, every muscle screaming at him to pounce on her and throw it away.
She looked at her palm. “What hurts you the most, Ewan?”
Her name on his lips, first time she’d ever called him by his birth name, he should have rejoiced. Standing, he inched toward her. Slowly, like one approaching a wild, scared animal. “I’ve the proof, lass. I can show ye what happened that night. Let me.”
Violet’s eyes blazed, the first time she’d shown any type of emotion. “Answer my question.”
He searched her face, every line, every lash seared into his brain. “You. Nothing could hurt me, but losing ye.”
She closed her eyes. “You took my ability for revenge, but you gave me another instead.”
Moving faster than he’d expected her to, she raked the pin across her wrist. He was on her, wresting the pin out of her fingers, but it was too late. She’d cut deep, blood welled from her pale skin like a dark bloom.
Ewan’s heart seized. He grabbed her by the shoulders, crashing down to the floor with her, his brain unable to comprehend what she’d done. Why she’d done it.
“Red,” he stuttered, pain caught in his throat, threatening to claw itself out, “nay, nay.”
“Hate… you… so… much,” she sobbed and her tears became his.
Grabbing her wrist, Ewan brought it to his mouth. Wolves could heal, they weren’t fast at it, or very good, but good enough. He licked the blood, savoring the sweetness of her, even as his tears mingled on his tongue. Rocking hard, covered in blood, he licked and licked, passing whatever healing he could to her, praying to whatever god might hear him.
“I love ye, lass. Please don’t leave. Don’t leave me again.”
Chapter 38
Dreaming, Violet roamed somewhere between awake and asleep, haunted by images she couldn’t understand.
Her grandmother Jana, standing inside the doorway, alive and aged. Her wrinkled hand beckoning to Violet with hurried gestures.
“My, what big eyes you have, grandmother.” A ghost of a voice whispered.
Jana’s grin widened, the sharp rows of fangs glinting with a coat of something clear, yet thick.
“My, what big teeth you have, grandmother.” The same voice, soft and unsure.
Jana’s eyes were black, full and alien like. So different than the kindly green they’d once been.
“The better to kill you with, my dear…” A sharp, brittle laugh punctuated the small hut and then two wolves jumped out. One red, one black.
The red stalked her, slowly, methodically. Licking its muzzle as its eyes blazed with hunger.
Violet stood, a specter in this vision, watching her past self huddle and cower in the corner; screaming with a bottomless pit of terror that’d blinded her to the truth.
The black wolf wasn’t moving. Its belly heaved as its slitted pupils dilated, then its hackles rose and it jumped Jana, tearing her limb from limb. The red wolf had turned, growling and moaning, as if seeking to understand what’d possessed the black wolf.
Over and over the vision played and she was helpless to its thrall. Wetness coated her face and soft moans rumbled through her chest, for hours she lay, replaying the past, seeing what couldn’t possibly be.
He hadn’t saved her. Ewan had killed her grandmother. But then the visions swept in like a tidal wave and each time she watched it, she knew it was true.
The mystery of that night was finally solved. The last piece of the puzzle she couldn’t remember, her soul accepted and believed, her mind screamed. Everyone had lied to her. Her aunt, Jana, everyone.
But not him.
No!
She trembled, something strong and firm gripped her hard. It was comforting, warm, and she was ashamed and confused.
“Wake up, Red,” the thick brogue whispered in her ear, a caress so soft and sweet. “Open those big blue eyes, look at me. Ye can hate me all ye want, just live, Red. Please.”
The last word was choked out and strained, scratchy and full of something deep and profound, but she cou
ldn’t make sense of it.
Finally the dreams relented, and like a fog being lifted, she opened her eyes. Immediately she noticed a heavy sensation against her breast. Glancing down, she saw a purple pendant pulsing against her bare flesh, his hand pressed tight to it.
His mouth was covered in dried blood; looking like he’d feasted. She hissed, glancing at her wrist, suddenly recalling the demonic anger that’d taken her last night. The pure hatred that’d burned brighter than the sun at its zenith, her need to kill him, end her agony, only to discover there was no way around the enchantment he’d woven with his bite.
She swallowed and didn’t push away when he nuzzled her hair, inhaling her scent deep into his lungs, muttering nonsense she couldn’t understand.
“Let me go,” she finally croaked, voice raw and scratchy, as if she’d actually been screaming throughout the night.
He set her aside gently, and crawled back on his knees, moving like an animal would. But instead of disgust, she found beauty in the motion. A perfect symmetry and balance to it that left her awed.
She was still angry, but wasn’t sure anymore if she should be. Not at him. Violet covered her breasts, hugging her arms to her body.
“What happened?” She rubbed her smooth wrist, tracing the length of the faint pink line.
He scrubbed his face. “Our saliva can heal, I… goddess, lass. What? What can I do?! How can I prove to ye I’m nay the devil ye take me for?” He was yelling, chest heaving, his golden eyes wild. Looking like the wolf she’d seen in the dreams.
Violet tucked her knees to her chest. “What did you do to me?” She pointed to the necklace in his hand.
Throwing the necklace against the wall, the stone cracked. He was angry, his body vibrated with it. He wouldn’t even look at her as he began to pace, rubbing his jaw so hard she was afraid he’d scrub the skin off.
“It was the truth I’d tried to show ye last night. I didn’t ken if it would work in yer sleep.” He turned his back to her, staring at the wall. The muscles in his back rippled as a shudder took him. “Ye glowed, yellow. When I licked ye, I tasted the essence of sunshine and wild fae magic. Do ye ken who ye are, lass?”
He turned, and she sucked in a sharp breath. His eyes, so human before, were now pure wolf. Tawny, with a vertical black slit. Breathtaking, but oh so dangerous. Her body thrilled even as her heart raced with forbidden desire.
“No,” she shook her head. “No one tells me anything.” Looking at her feet, she nibbled on her lower lip. “Was that true? Was all that true?”
He knelt beside her, his finger under her chin, forcing her to look at him. She flinched, but held his gaze, spellbound by him.
“Aye. All of it.” His whisper was a caress against her lips.
Her lashes fluttered. “I’ve hated you for so long. I’m scared to stop.”
Alien eyes searched hers. “Why?”
“Because,” she swallowed hard, “then it means everything I knew was wrong. My grandmother hated me, my aunt lied to me.”
Blunt fingertips feathered across her cheekbones and the touch burned a path straight through her body, filled her legs with heat and longing.
“I haven’t, and I won’t. Yer my mate.”
She closed her eyes. “Please don’t say that.”
His hand left and his warmth went with it. She yearned for more, but didn’t know how to ask, how to plead for something that her brain said was so wrong. It was hard reconciling fact with fiction, knowing how wrong she’d been. It made her sick, fueled an anger that now had no release.
“Did you come to kill me too?” Her voice sounded childlike.
He was standing by the wall again, his eyes hooded. “Aye.”
It was a knife to the heart.
“I would have ripped yer throat out and never looked back. I didn’t know ye, and I dinna care to know ye.”
She ground her molars, picking at her blood stained dress. “But you couldn’t because you found out I was your mate, is that it?” Panting, she let the anger take her, felling her limbs grow sure and strong, her blood pulse with adrenaline.
“Stop trying to find reasons to hate me, Red. I’m nay the one ye must fight.”
She snapped her head up, glaring at him.
He lifted a shaggy black brow. “Going to deny it?”
Nostrils flaring, it was on the tip of her tongue to tell him to go to hell. But a small voice she rarely heard, and never heeded, called her bluff. She was still trying to find a reason to hate him.
“How do I let go of something that was my constant companion all these years?”
“One day at a time.” Grabbing the knotted section of fabric wrapped around his slim waist, he tugged, releasing the wrap and standing fully nude.
Goddess he was beautiful. Every part of him was sculpted perfection. Blushing, she glanced away.
“I hear footsteps headed our way, it’s time to go. I do not wish to say goodbye, or be caught. Kermani showed me the dream stone that would open the portal last night. Keep to the shadows.”
White light flared from every pore, burning so bright she had to cover her eyes. When the light died, a big black wolf stared back at her.
Chapter 39
Ewan studied the woods, while alternately glancing at Red’s shadowy form hidden behind a large barrel shaped tree. Since leaving the Eastern realm six hours ago, they’d made their way slowly through a forest unlike any he’d ever known.
Crushing the dream stone beneath his paw, he’d opened the portal, able to leave before any eyes spotted their departure.
The incident last night had left him shaken and disturbed. Who was this woman? His mate? She was violent, ancient, yet in so many ways still young and naïve, untried in the ways of the world.
Tasting the wind, he plucked through the miasma of scent laden breeze. There was gingerbread, peppermint, and even the faintest whiff of molten chocolate.
Violet had stared in wide eyed wonder when they’d arrived at their next destination. Quiet and much more subdued than the day prior, as if she was thinking, sorting through thoughts, more likely wondering about not only him, but herself. Who she was and where she fit in this strange new world.
Again he glanced at her wraith-like form; pride bloomed in his chest seeing her move between the trees. Stealthy and silent, it was obvious to him she’d done this before. Her movements barely disturbed the gum drop leaves scattered upon the cookie crumble forest floor.
The sky was edged in bright washes of lavender and tangerine, a moon--not two planets--rested pregnant in a sky ready to descend into darkness.
Every so often her scent would tickle his nose, there was light, but like Miriam had warned in her letter… there was darkness too. Something malignant and foul that lingered in her blood. Huffing, blowing the stench from his nostrils he padded silently forward.
These forests were a macabre and intentional design. Within these woods lived a witch who preyed on the young. Every tree, every rock was made of sweets. Luring the children in deeper, making them forget the safety they’d left behind.
It would be good to rid Kingdom of the crone, but her death wouldn’t come by him.
Licking his muzzle, he glanced at her yet again. They’d not spoken a word since leaving his room. Ewan knew this form bothered her, saw it in the way she glanced at him when she didn’t think he was looking.
She was afraid, and he wished he could tell her not to be. That in this form he could kill, smell and see better than in his weaker human one. That he could, and would protect her from any and all harm. But the tradeoff for strength was his inability to communicate with her.
The path led straight and unswervingly forward. Many times his stomach grumbled, demanding protein. But to touch anything here was to alert the crone to their presence.
He wasn’t sure how he felt about Red being the one to take her on. Miriam had called her a soul sucker, but hadn’t explained what that was. How to use the ‘gift’. The crone had killed many, Violet ha
d killed one wolf, and had very nearly killed herself in the process.
He swallowed hard.
A thud sounded like a loud pop in his ears and he spun, the hairs on the back of his neck rose as he growled low in his throat. Nothing lived in these woods of horror. There were no land animals, no birds, no gentle hum of insects.
The crone had eaten them all.
He wasn’t sure what he’d find, a hidden trap, some beast let loose. Perhaps Red had begun nibbling on a tree branch. He should have warned her, he hadn’t thought she might not know the land as he did.
But it was none of those things. She was on her knees, head bowed, the red cowl covering her entire face. Calling the unbecoming, Ewan exhaled through the change, breathing through a transformation that pulled at bone and skin.
“Lass?” He trotted up to her and knelt by her side, heart clenching violently when he noticed the fat drops spilling from her cheeks.
“Who am I?” She sobbed, finally looking at him, blue eyes streaked through with red veins, as if she’d been rubbing them for hours. “What am I?”
Lips twisting, he looked over his shoulders, studying the unnatural calm of the woods. The witch wouldn’t come tonight; he’d not smelled her rot and Violet needed him.
Sitting, he crossed his ankles, and studied her. She didn’t blink.
“Who am I?”
Needing to touch her, to comfort her anyway he could, he grabbed her hand. Expecting she’d yank it away and hiss at him, she flinched, but didn’t pull back.
“Yer the Heartsong.”
Gathering a corner of her hem, she dabbed at her eyes. “But what is that? Can you help me? Can you tell me the truth?”
For just a moment he understood why everyone had lied to her, because he was tempted to tell her nonsense himself. Perhaps to spare her feelings, or just because he was a coward and didn’t want to face anymore of her hate. He sighed, and tenderly rubbed her knuckles, amazed she let him.
“I don’t know all of it,” he began, and her eyes grew hopeful, “but yer the result of fairy magic.”
“Grandmother told me I was born of fairy magic, that it made me kind and gentle.... and…” she frowned when he shook his head.
[Kingdom 01.0 - 03.0] Kingdom Series Collection Page 35