The Dying Fate (The Umbra Chronicles Book 1)

by Willow Ravenheart

  “What’s happening?” I moan, unable to control the sudden fit of shivers that take over my body.

  “You’re in the middle of the fourth stage. This is the Acclimation I told you about,” he whispers, his arms tight around me. I look around and notice we’re in the middle of his tub, fully clothed.

  I feel his body shudder beneath me and all my senses come back to me in a flash. The water surrounding me is freezing cold and I can even feel small pieces of ice floating in the water with us. His hands work in small circles along my body as a shudder runs up my spine. A sudden heat overtakes me and a cry rips from my throat. His arms tighten around me and he pulls me further down into the frigid water, until only my face is above the surface. I take one last look at his face before I close my eyes and crawl back into the darkness that I’ve become so accustomed to.

  ∞∞∞

  I feel weightless. That's the only way to describe it. It feels as though I'm floating on clouds and that I could drift away with a breeze. This feels so much better than the constant pressure radiating throughout my body. The last week has been fucking hell.... Elliot wasn't being vague when he said this was going to suck. I've probably sweat enough to fill an Olympic sized swimming pool and I've had shivers so aggressive that I've nearly cracked teeth.

  "Are you sure this is a good idea?" Denny asks, his voice snappy.

  "Well, it sure as hell can't hurt anything...." Elliot mumbles before pressing his hand against my face.

  I open my eyes, astonished at the breathtaking blue sky above me. There's barely a cloud overhead, so there's nothing to block the bright rays of sun that shine down on me. I can hear the sound of water lapping around me and the smell of earth and pine is very strong in the air. The only thing telling me that I'm not hallucinating right now are the tiny electrical pulses that radiate from Elliot's touch.

  "Well, hello there, Sunshine," he says before leaning over me.

  I smile at him weakly as I notice the happy lilt to his voice. He's a breathtaking sight, to be honest. Elliot's pulled his hair up into a messy bun, some loose strands hanging down to flutter around his face. Of course, he's shirtless, just as he is most of the time. I still haven't been able to convince him to tell me where his scars came from, but I now see them simply as a part of him.

  Hell, he's barely left my side all week. I've got to say...a girl could get used to this....

  "Hey," I croak. My throat is raw again, not that it surprises me. Like he warned me, this has been like the worst flu of my entire life. Except snot, there's been none of that. Thank God!

  "I brought you out to the lake," Elliot says as he looks up, motioning to our surroundings. Now I realize why I feel weightless. He's wading in the waves with his arms beneath me, keeping my body above water.

  "Hmm...." I hum as I dip my head back to let the cool lake water wash over my face. This actually feels amazing, the cold water beneath me and the warm sun above me.

  "Are you feeling any better?" he asks, a worried look on his face, "You've been out for a while."

  "How long?" I whisper, unable to speak any louder without my voice cracking.

  "A few days, but you've been resting mostly," he says as he lets more of my body dip into the water, "Your fever broke yesterday and you haven't been tossing and turning like you normally do."

  "That's better...." I sigh, honestly too weak to say more. I may not feel like my body's being bipolar anymore, but I still think I've been put in a fucking blender. Everything hurts, all the way from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.

  “What were you dreaming about the other night?” he asks, changing the direction of the conversation.

  “It was a terrible joke,” I spit, “Henry was with me, just as if he’d never left. Suddenly, he decomposed before my eyes and he tried to kiss me, but you woke me up. Thank you for that by the way.”

  “You’re welcome,” he says, “but I can admit, sitting in an ice bath with a hallucinating she-devil isn’t on the top of my to do list.”

  “I’m sorry,” I sigh, noticing the shudder that runs across his body, “I hope it wasn’t that bad.”

  “It will always be worth it to make sure you’re safe, but you can land one hell of a punch.” he says with a chuckle.

  Elliot wades in the lake for a while longer, sometimes even letting me go to float on my own. My whole body feels relaxed from the healing waters and the lazy sound of waves lapping against the shore do quick work of lulling me back into another deep slumber.

  ∞∞∞

  "Why the hell did you take her out there?" Denny growls, his voice close to me. I can feel his hands ripping me away from Elliot's grip, but I can't make myself wake up fully. So, I lay in his arms and listen to their argument.

  "I thought it would help!" Elliot snaps.

  "Why do you care so fucking much?" Denny snarls.

  "It's my job," Elliot growls, the vibration ringing in my ears, "so I have little choice."

  My heart clenches at his words. So, that's why he keeps doing all of this for me? It's not like I didn't already suspect it, but...it hurts....

  "Bullshit!" Denny snarls, "We both know there's more to it than that. If you were just merely doing your job, you wouldn't be touching her all the time."

  "I don't know what you're talking about!" Elliot objects, a deep rumble vibrating along his words.

  "Stop with all of the lies," Denny exclaims, "I see the way you look at her! Back the fuck off!"

  "I'm not looking at her the way like you think I am...." Elliot groans, "I'm just doing my damn job, so why don't you back the fuck off and let me do it!"

  "You are so full of shit," Denny says with a chuckle, "I'm not blind."

  "What may I ask, do you think you see?" Elliot asks, his voice tired.

  "How about the fact that you sleep with her every night? Or the weird way you hold her up against your chest like you're scared that she'll run away. Oh, how about the way you kiss her head when you don't think I'm looking," Denny barks at him, "I'm not stupid, Elliot."

  Holy crap, what is Denny saying? Elliot can't feel about me like that. It's not...possible. He's just doing what Ronan ordered him to do. I know he has other things that he needs to do, but I've been made his top priority until I shift for the first time. Hell, I might even be his responsibility after that. I still don't know.

  But, I can't keep my thoughts away from our kiss that day in town.... He's the one who kissed me....

  "I have no clue to what you're talking about!" Elliot exclaims before the sounds of his footsteps tell me that he's walked away.

  A sigh passes my lips the moment Denny lays me down on my bed, my cold, wet clothes sticking to my skin.

  "Get...dry...clothes," I groan, fighting to open my eyes. I feel his hands lift me up and I finally manage to find the strength to peel my eyelids apart.

  He's holding one of his oversized, white t-shirts and I take it from him. I maneuver my body until I'm sitting at the side of the bed, my legs hanging off the sides. Denny turns around, giving me some privacy as I pull the sopping wet sleep clothes and pull the shirt over my head, totally commando.

  "Okay, I'm done," I wheeze before flopping back onto the mattress. Denny helps me slide beneath the covers and I wrap my arms around him to give him a weak, but heartfelt hug.

  "Get some rest," he whispers before kissing my forehead and turning the light off as he leaves the room.

  I turn onto my side and look out the window. I can see Elliot seated on one of the rocking chairs. His long hair flows past his shoulders, the messy curls spinning around his face as the evening breeze grows stronger. He's on the phone with someone, but I can't hear anything he's saying. All I can tell is that he's not happy about something. His eyebrows are drawn close together and a scowl covers his face as he yells at the person he's talking to.

  I close my eyes, trying my best to focus on my hearing. It takes a few tries, but I eventually succeed and finally hear what he's saying.

  "I don't k
now what I'm going to do, Man...." he groans as he grasps a fistful of his hair, "She's been through so fucking much and I can't stop feeling like this. It's breaking me apart. If she fucking dies, I don't know what I'm going to do! I fight him every day.... God, he's losing his fucking mind.... Thanks....Denny thinks something's up. How do I tell him what's really going on?"

  I try to concentrate on what he's saying, but exhaustion wins over and I slip back into darkness.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I still can't figure out what Elliot meant. He's been avoiding me like the plague the past few days and I don't even know how to ask him without admitting that I listened in on his conversation like some sort of creep....

  Denny's been distant with me as well. He's by my side nearly all the time, but we rarely say a word to each other. I know what I overhead him and Elliot arguing about the other day has a lot to do with the reason for his indifference to me, but I don't even know how to approach the subject.

  The past few days have been a constant cycle of fever followed by long bouts of mind boggling nausea. I've given up on trying to crawl to the bathroom every single time I have to hurl, so I've converted my waste basket into a makeshift vomit disposal system. Poor Denny, he ends up having to be the one to empty it and I'm sure he hates me a little inside every time he does so.

  "Macy, do you want anything to eat?" Denny asks, his head poking into my bedroom doorway. I look up from the book I'm reading and simply shake my head. I'm tired of throwing up everything I eat.

  "I'm not hungry," I mumble before returning to the boring book in my hands.

  "You need to eat...." he sighs before walking into the room, "it's just going to make you weak if you keep skipping meals."

  "I don't care," I mumble before tossing the book to the end of the bed and rolling onto my side, away from him.

  I can't shake this bout of depression that's been weighing on me the last week or so. It feels as though there's a thousand-pound weight tethered to my soul, dragging me into a dreary abyss. I know it has a lot to do with the aspect that my chances of survival are little to none. I honestly don't know if I do want to survive. Everything is completely fucked up and I can't figure out any way that things will work out.

  Either way things go, I'll lose my family. I won't be allowed to see my parents until I learn to revert into my original form, but from what I gather, that's no easy feat. With my luck, I'll never be able to master that ability and my parent's will think that I've moved on without them. I can't even summon the courage to call them because the only thing I want to tell them is the only thing I'm not allowed to do.

  I make up my mind and decide to get out of bed on my own for the first time in over a week. I'm going to track down my long-haired guardian and convince him to give me some answers if it's the last thing I do. Hell, I'm halfway dying already, what the hell would it hurt to just ask a few questions?

  I climb out of the bed and have to stand still for a few minutes to let my body adjust to being vertical. A slight ringing starts behind my ears and I sit in the chaise lounge beside the window for a moment.

  Once the ringing goes away, I shuffle to my closet and grab a pair of leggings and pull them on slowly. I already have one of Denny's t-shirts on, so it doesn't take much for me to get dressed. I sit on the bench in front of my vanity and run my brush through the thousand knots in my hair. Once I feel as though I look presentable, I grip the wall and walking into the hallway.

  I can hear Sebastian and Denny talking in the kitchen. I listen closely and smile once I recognize Elliot's deep rumble somewhere out on the front porch. It takes a few attempts, but I finally find the strength to let go of the wall and I shuffle toward the front door slowly.

  Denny watches me as I pass him and Sebastian and I take the door handle in my hand. It's time I get some answers.

  It's a lot harder to open the front door than I thought! My legs feel like a mixture of gelatin and glue as I walk onto the wooden porch. What's even more frustrating is the fact that I can't find Elliot. His scent, which I can describe as nothing other than freshly cut cedar, tells me that he's just left. With that being said, it doesn't help me find him. Where would a long-haired lumberjack go this late in the evening?

  The rocking chairs lined up along the front porch call my name and I shuffle over to drop into one of them. How am I supposed to track down someone when I can't even walk a few steps without taking a break? Ugh, this is so frustrating!

  "Macy, what are you doing?" Denny asks, his head appearing from the open kitchen window.

  "I don't know anymore...." I admit with a heavy sigh as I rest my elbows upon my knees and lean against my open palms.

  "Do you want some company?" he asks.

  "Sure...." I mumble as I close my eyes.

  The sound of the front door opening and closing catches my attention and I crack my eyes open to see my friend walking in my direction, two steaming mugs in his hands. It looks like he's trying to bribe me with a peace offering. He'd better have cocoa if he hopes for my forgiveness after the way he's been acting toward me the last few days.

  "Here ya go," he says as he passes me one of the piping hot mugs. I wrap my hands around the porcelain tightly, absorbing the heat. I look down and have to suppress the smile that wants to spread across my face. It's cocoa...with whipped cream and marshmallows.

  "Thank you," I sigh before taking a small sip of the warm, chocolatey goodness.

  I look up from the cup and notice Denny staring at me. He has the look of a dog who's done something bad written along his features and I have to suppress another smile when I realize that the groveling it about to commence.

  He drums his fingers along the sides of his mug before saying, "I'm a dick...."

  "Oh, why would you say that?" I snap back at him sarcastically.

  "Macy," he sighs, before sitting his mug on the small table beside us, "I know what I've done and so do you. I'm letting things get to me and my way of coping is to take all of my stress out on someone else."

  "So, is that what you did the other day with Elliot?" I ask suspiciously, "You were taking your stress out on him?"

  "That's different...." Denny argues, his voice reaching a couple octaves higher than normal. It's a signature Denny sign of not being honest with me. God, the man's a terrible liar.

  "Then explain it to me...." I urge him as I place my mug beside his.

  Denny sighs and takes his eyes off me finally. He gazes out toward the lake for a few moments before rubbing his face with both of his hands. I can see the gears working in his brain behind his chocolate gaze.

  "I don't want you to get hurt again," he says after another few moments of silence, "Elliot acts too...I don't know...different around you. He's always touching you or he's being entirely too attentive. Macy, I don't like the way he looks at you."

  "You blew up on one of the only people who knows how to help me through all of this because you don't like the way he looks at me?" I groan before running my hand over my face.

  "Don't act like it's not weird!" he counters, "You have to admit it's weird that he's always holding you in his arms, sleeping with you, or hovering."

  "Did you ever think he's doing these things because it actually might help? Plus, he hasn't been doing all those things since you snapped on him. Also, did you ever stop to think that I liked it?" I ask.

  "How was it supposed to help you? Are cuddles medicine?" he whines, his mocha eyes wide.

  "Maybe they are!" I snap, "We don't know much about Shifters. There might actually be a legitimate excuse for all of this. There's a reason for everything. If you don't remember, you're the one who's been telling me that over the years."

  "Maybe I jumped to conclusions," Denny grunts, "but you can't blame me. This is all new to me as well and it has nothing to do with me. I'm here for you."

  Denny and I share another moment of silence. We both sip from our steaming mugs as we stare out at the lake. There's a thin layer of fog rolling in and it looks e
erily peaceful as it floats merely inches above the water. It looks like a storm's coming and I can even smell the scent of rain in the thick air surrounding us.

  "I'm going to go lay down...." I tell him as I stand on shaky legs. He jumps up from his seat and loops his arm through mine as he assists me through the front door. After a few agonizing minutes, I'm finally in bed.

  I pull the covers over my exhausted body and curl into the fetal position.

  "Macy, how are you feeling?" Denny asks as he sits on the edge of the mattress, pulling me from my thoughts.

  I roll onto my back and glance at him. This has even taken a toll on him. The usual mischievous grin that I've come to associate him is gone. What's left behind is barely more than a grim smile. I don't like it at all. I know everything I'm going through and all the information he must keep secret is taking a toll on him.

  "I feel like I'm being dunked in cold water one minute and shoved in a hot oven the next...." I groan, trying to control the shivers running up and down my spine.

  It's no use, I've been fighting this for so long and nothing helps. Well, something... someone... helps, but he's only God knows where. Elliot Harvey has officially become my human-shifter electric blanket. The only time that I can control the shakes and shivers are when I'm wrapped in his arms. Thanks to my 'best friend' he's gone MIA.

  "Well," he sighs before pulling his tank top off and tossing it to the couch across the room, "I'm no Elliot, but I'm sure cuddling never killed someone."

  Denny crawls up the bed to my side and pulls me against his chest. I barely have the energy to wrap my arms around him, but I gather the strength. This must be what hell feels like.

  I guess I'll try to find Elliot after getting some rest. If I'm lucky, he'll come to check up on me and I'll finally have the chance to ask him some questions. My eyes close as if they have minds of their own, the only thing I sense before slipping into an uneventful sleep is the strong smell of cedar.