by Patti Larsen
“I bet that made her happy.” Eva Southway isn’t the kind of woman you cross without consequences.
He shrugs. “Her satisfaction with the way things have turned out is not my concern.” He stretches, draws a big breath of air he lets out in a happy gust, still playing his part. “So this is what freedom feels like. Remarkable. Should have tried it years ago.” He nudges me. “Highly recommend it.”
Tallah’s shock slips into sad humor. “Piers,” she says. “What will you do?”
His shoulders hunch before he sighs, dropping the act. “Look, I know I’m making light of my choice. But it really was inevitable. I can’t live like that anymore. My mother is a tyrant, and if being a part of the Steam Union means being inflexible and turning in my friends, I won’t do it.” He waggles his eyebrows at the Hensley leader. “Besides, I have a coven leader or two who might be willing to take me in if I make my case.” The faintest hint of pleading is in his voice, though I doubt Tallah hears it. My ears are just sensitive, especially to Piers.
Tallah nods, smiling for real this time. “We would be honored to have you.”
Piers sweeps into another bow. “Delightful. Now, let’s talk compensation.” His eyes narrow, hands rubbing together, making Tallah laugh.
I hug him again, shattering his little show. “You did this for me.” No matter how hard I try, I keep dragging the people I care about into trouble over a choice I made. Piers’s defection is my fault, no matter what he says.
He shakes his head, laughing with the bitterness returned. “Don’t flatter yourself, princess,” he says, tone softer and kinder than his words. “I did this for purely selfish reasons.” He steps away from me, winking as his old charm returns. “Now, tell me we have a plan. I’m all in, regardless. The madder the better, in my opinion.”
Anna pours him a cup of coffee while Tallah tells him what we’ve deduced. I sit with Sage, holding his hand, listening and processing. Piers might be trying to protect me from guilt, but part of his choice is my fault. And I’ll never forget his sacrifice.
“Track down the creator, check.” Piers nods. “And track the Steam Union pocket, check. Perhaps find ourselves some Brotherhood traitors and wring information from them. Most excellent. Timeline?”
I glance at Sage. “A day,” I say. “At the most.”
Sage meets my eyes, his calm despite what has to be a frustrating conversation going on around him. “I feel fine, you know,” he says. “Since San Antonio, when the antibiotics kicked in.”
I don’t say anything, unable to speak.
Sage turns to smile at the others. “Whatever’s coming,” he says, “I’m not afraid. I think Tallah is right. Whoever made me, they figured it out.” He flexes his shoulder. “It’s weird and everything, but I’ve never felt stronger. Or more myself.” He squeezes my hand as if to reassure me. Like he should be thinking about me at all, considering. “It’s going to be okay, Charlie. I can feel it.”
I wish I shared his optimism. Instead, I wrap myself in the pride and duty of my people to keep from crying and close myself off from him. He must feel it, because he releases my hand and looks down, falling silent again.
Doesn’t he know we can’t afford to think in terms of hope right now? We have too much yet to come to fall into that trap. I know Syd would chide me for my negativity. She thrives on hope to carry her through conflict after conflict. But I was raised differently.
Piers meets my eyes “I think we’re all aware you’re not a real revenant,” he says. Tallah nods, Anna’s face creased in a sad but supportive smile. “While I adore Charlotte and would do anything for her, you’re another matter.” Sage’s head snaps up, frown tight and dark. “If I thought for one second you were about to turn into a slavering psychopath, I’d kill you myself and her wants be damned.” I’m scowling now, too.
“I wouldn’t risk my coven,” Tallah says with a gentle smile, “if I thought otherwise myself.” She folds her napkin between her fingers. “I won’t lie to you, Sage. This is a huge risk. But I believe you are evolving into something important.” Her dark eyes glisten with blue magic a moment. “I’ve felt your spirit. There is nothing in you that tells me you are a risk. To the contrary.” She gestures to me. “You feel more a werewolf than Charlotte does, whatever that means.”
I gape at her while Piers snorts.
“Same here,” he says, gray eyes sparkling. “Seriously, Charlotte. You thought I’d take your side and throw away everything if I didn’t think he was valuable?”
I shake my head. “You could have told me sooner.” Is it true? Have I been watching for the darkness for so long I missed the light in Sage? I feel for him, but he’s the same. Isn't he?
Sage visibly releases his anger. “Thank you,” he says to Tallah, ignoring Piers. “Your help means a lot to me.”
Tallah pats his hand. “We’ll figure this out,” she says. “No matter what that means.” She winks at me. “And maybe change some laws along the way to include a new evolution of werewolf.”
Piers rolls his eyes as I ponder the possibility. Is Sage what we as a nation are meant to become? If so, how can I prove it?
“Anything else?” The blond sorcerer crosses his arms over his chest as though bored with our conversation.
No one speaks further. The tasks ahead are enough.
“All right,” Piers climbs to his feet, his discarded longcoat left on the back of the chair as he rolls up the sleeves of his button-up, exposing pale, wiry arms. “Leave the Steam Union to me. I’ve played Mr. Nice Piers all along, let them have their cat and mouse moments. Whatever it is they fear, I’ll give them something to be afraid of.” He grins at me, clearly enjoying himself. “I’ve been waiting for this moment, you have no idea. Didn’t have permission before. Coven Leader?” He turns to her, expectant.
Tallah smiles. “Permission granted. Though consider yourself a free agent with ties to the family, Piers. I’m not your mother.”
“My dear lady,” he says. “You certainly aren’t, being a witch of action.” Now I don’t feel so bad. He truly seems enthusiastic about the whole thing. Perhaps this is a gift, the push he needed to shed his domineering mother and her antiquated ways. I know the feeling. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. It’s time to start throwing my weight around and see what shakes loose.”
“Can I ask a question?” Sage’s hand tightens on mine, warm to the point of uncomfortable, though I refuse to let go. “Does this mean I’m going to be okay?”
We all stare at him while he looks around, trying to gauge an answer from our faces.
“Caine and his people,” Sage says. “They are normal. Well,” he laughs, “normal-ish. I have a feeling they were pretty badass and a little nuts before they were turned into werewolves.”
I have to agree with him there. “So you’re wondering if you’ll turn out like them?” I sniff him, relieved there’s still no sign of revenant taint and that the scent of the secondary infection is long faded. My wolf chuffs over the idea he could be much more than I ever considered. “I don’t know, Sage. None of us do. But it makes sense that if you are the next incarnation, that if Rupe figured out what Belaisle missed, it’s the reason he wants you back.”
“So he can copy what he did with you,” Tallah says, voice soft. “Study you to see what worked and why.”
I nod. “Which means it’s possible you will be okay.” Can I really bring myself to believe that?
Sage sighs, smiles a little. “But it’s also possible I could devolve into a slavering monster at a moment’s notice.”
I doubt that very much after everything Tallah and Piers have said. There’s something more at work here, something I’m not seeing, maybe not willing to see. If Sage is our next evolution, he still feels incomplete, like his wolf has other plans.
Piers breaks the silence by slapping Sage firmly on the shoulder. Sage winces, reaching for it while I glare at my sorcerer friend.
“Fear not,” Piers says in his cheery British voice, “if y
ou do, we’ll make sure you have a grand exit.”
“I’d rather find a cure.” I glare at Piers who winks.
Sage turns to look at me. “I already told you,” he says. “If it comes down to it, I want to be a werewolf.”
Tallah clears her throat, Anna rising quickly, taking coffee cups away. They sense the sudden intimacy, though Piers hovers, watching, hurt in his eyes while his lips continue to smile.
“You can’t,” I say. Why doesn’t he understand? I should have had this conversation with him long ago, but the timing was always terrible and hope seemed the brighter choice. Now I see my folly. He’s really deluding himself. “They’ll kill you.” My people. Whether he’s okay or not.
“The laws can change,” Sage says. “We’ll make them change. But I’m going to be a werewolf, Charlotte. I’m staying with you.”
***
Chapter Twenty Five
I rise from the table, pulling Sage aside, out the door and onto the deck for a private talk, or as private as we’re going to get. Piers stays behind, though from the belligerent frown he gives me as I glance back, he would rather follow and maybe do something permanent to make Sage go away forever.
This independent streak of his seems to have triggered more than I expected.
Sage is just as stiff as my sorcerer friend, anger in his face, his stance, the scent of him as his wolf argues without speaking.
“I thought you understood,” I say, keeping my voice low. “But now I know I’ve failed to explain clearly. That’s my fault.” My chest heaves in a sigh, heart hurting as I think of him and his family, waiting for him to visit at Christmas, loving their son, their brother, just the way he is. My own selfish need wishes Sage and I could be together, but I have to put him first. Which means encouraging him to return to human, if possible. “I let you hold your hope, Sage, knowing it kept you going. But you have to listen to me now. You have to believe me.” I shake my black bob, not wanting to be angry, but not knowing how else to feel. Not angry with him but at the laws and rules and old fools that will keep us apart. “No matter what happens here, Sage, the pack will never accept you. Live and be a werewolf or die as a monster, you’re a revenant, not born to our people. And that is a truth no one can change.” Unless Rupe and Belaisle have altered the rules with their meddling. What does that mean for the werenation?
“And you’re a princess,” he says. “I get it. I heard you the first time, in my cell, when I was waiting to die. I know what you told me. I’ve been thinking about it ever since.” He’s not emotional, in fact he’s more calm and convincing than I am. “But times change, Charlie. Your race has gone through a huge shift, thanks to Syd. At least from what you told me. You’ve gained your freedom. And that freedom should come with the chance to do things differently, to assess every opportunity, every following change, with fresh eyes.” How very reasonable. He should have been a lawyer, a diplomat. What a wereking he would make.
Stop it, Charlotte.
“You need a lesson in werelaw,” I say, a soft shake in my voice. “Also my fault.” I draw a breath. “No werewolf shall ever make another through their bite. Such an act will mean the instant death of the were who bit the human and the execution of the revenant upon first manifestation of infection. Without fail, without mercy, that is the law.” And has been since we were made.
He wrings his hands, showing distress, though his face remains calm. “I’m so foreign to all this, but I do know one thing. I love you. I will die for you, or live outside pack law if that’s what I need to do. But if I’m not going to turn into a monster, if I’m some new creature outside your expectations, I want to explore that. Figure out what being the new me means.” He pauses. “I know you think I might shift and implode or something at any point. But, Charlotte, I feel amazing. I’ve never felt so strong, so stable in my entire life.” He drops his hands. “I’ve spent most of my life learning to fight so I’ll never have to, looking for a way to feel powerful.” Sage looks away, at the ocean. “You’re not the only one with a dark past.” When he meets my eyes again, his are full of wonder. “This wolf inside, growing with me, is changing me. For the better. I just know it.”
Misery wars with need and hunger for him. “Sage.”
He cuts me off with the wave of one hand. “Please, listen. I’m not going to give up on us. As long as I’m here, inside here,” he taps his chest, “and the wolf lets me, I’m going to hang onto the hope you and I can be together forever, the way I’ve always wanted. I promise, if you want that, too, nothing is going to keep me from you.”
How can I hurt him after he’s bared his soul to me? But I can’t allow him to carry false hope. No more than I can. I’m here to save his life, but that’s it. That’s all it can be. I tremble inside, knowing I’m lying to myself, that I want to embrace what he’s offered me, more than anything, my mind whirling with ways I can say yes. I could spend the rest of my life hiding with him, create our own little pack, staying under the radar. It would mean sacrifice for him, for his family…
His family.
Which is why I prepare to say no.
“Even if,” I say, “you prove to be a perfect revenant, a new werewolf in full control of his power, and even if,” I stress those words for the second time, “the werenation lets you live, no matter how this turns out, we will never be permitted to mate, to be together, to create offspring. Our people’s freedom is just too young.” Far too young. So much fear still exists. Oleksander is proof of that. “You will be a pariah, segregated from the pack, a lone wolf on your own. Do you understand what that means?”
He nods. “I do.”
“No,” I snarl. “You don’t. Werewolves are pack creatures, Sage. We need each other.” Memories of childhood, of loneliness and loss, haunt me. How the Dumonts separated me from the others, kept me out of touch with my little pack. The way it burned in the back of my mind, drove me almost to the brink of insanity, as bad as the physical torture Andre inflicted. “A cure is a better choice. So you can live out your life as a human.”
Sage’s calm hasn’t shifted, though cold bitterness joins it now. “You’d let that happen to me.”
I throw my hands up in the air. “I would have no choice,” I say. “I’m the heir to the throne of the werenation. My people’s needs come before my own.” I turn my back on him, hugging myself, hating myself. “I’ve already broken so many of our laws, turned away from my people in an effort to save you. Were I to go against pack will and try to integrate you, it would cause such a rift in my people I don’t know what the result would be.” I spin on him, putting all of my pain and fear and love in my eyes. “Please understand, I love you, Sage. But they are my people and I must put them first.”
If I ever get a chance. I’ve been thinking all along Oleksander will ensure I am chained to the throne after this. But there’s a distinct possibility he will be forced to rule against me instead. The outcome could be much more permanent. Sage may yet survive, while I could be tried and killed for betraying my people and never sit on the throne of the werenation. Even if he is cleared, there is a chance my life will either be over, or I will be enslaved, mated to the were of the people’s choice, for the express purpose of producing offspring for the throne.
Sage doesn’t need to hear that now. I’m done arguing with him. He will be safe and human or protected from the pack and a werewolf, but those are his only two options. End of story.
Why can’t he understand that?
I leave him there on the deck, going back inside, heart breaking. Maybe we could run away, be fugitives forever. But I can’t bring myself to fully turn away from my people, not when threats like Rupe and Caine hover over what we’ve struggled to build.
The room is empty, all but for Tallah. She waits for me with sad eyes, reaches out to me. I go to her, hug her as she whispers in my ear. “It’s not easy being a leader.”
I pull away, wiping at a tear that managed to escape. “Syd taught me nothing is impossible,” I say. “
But sometimes it really feels like she’s wrong.”
“Trust her,” Tallah says with a smile. “You know none of us will ever let anything happen to you. Not if you let us help.” She hesitates. “I know your people are tied to their laws. And how hard it is to change those laws. But you have powerful leaders on your side. Is it possible something could be done?”
Not her, too. “I wish,” I say.
She shrugs, sorrow on her beautiful face. “You would know better than I,” she says. “But it seems to me part of being a leader is showing your people the future is now, and that change is a good thing that will bring them prosperity.”
My heart skips. “Maybe if I hadn’t betrayed them by running off with Sage.”
“Or,” she says, drawing out the word with a twinkle in her eye, “you instead departed, as was your duty, to investigate Caine and his people, using the revenant as a guide to their home base, thus uncovering a sorcerer plot to again enslave your people, and saving them all from a terrible fate.”
It’s impossible not to laugh. “A nice story,” I say.
“One with merit.” She grips my arms in her hands, staring me down with her dark eyes. “Charlotte, I know the world looks black and white sometimes. But shades of gray go a long way to nudging life into the path you want it to go.”
I kiss her cheek as a light bulb goes off. She’s totally right. I’ve been thinking in terms of a soldier, one who has gone against her orders, not as a princess with responsibilities to her people. Well, they have a responsibility to me, too. And I’m doing what I’m doing, not just for Sage, but to make sure the werenation is safe.