by Lani Lenore
I hope he doesn’t hate me.
She took a few steps closer, hoping that he would open his eyes to notice her there, but she stopped short when she saw that there was already someone with him. The native girl was sitting in front of him in the weeds, her head bowed. There was no contact between them, yet Wren felt a flare of jealousy that lit her skin on fire. Why was that girl with Rifter? What did she want? Wren wanted to run away as much as she wanted to rush in and interrupt this scene. They shouldn’t have been together.
Don’t jump to conclusions, she tried to tell herself. Maybe it’s not what you think. Maybe—
That was the end of her speculation. Rifter was still irresponsive, lost in his thoughts, but Calico had opened her eyes. The Tribal stared at his face briefly, but as Wren watched, she leaned closer to him, parted her lips and put her mouth against his.
Wren felt as though she’d been stabbed in the chest. She forgot how to breathe. She didn’t want to look, but she couldn’t turn away. She had to watch – to wait until she saw Rifter push the girl back. Of course he would. He didn’t even know her! But the kiss went on for too long – much too long – and though Rifter didn’t embrace the girl, he didn’t push her away either. It didn’t take near enough persuasion before his lips had folded against hers and he was kissing her back.
He’d accepted a kiss from another. Wren felt her sensitive heart split in two.
The forest flew by her as she turned and fled through the trees. She didn’t know which direction she was going in and she didn’t care. She just had to get away. Hot tears were building up behind her eyes, but she did not stop to wipe them. She wanted to run and hide herself away, but there was nowhere to go. Maybe that was the problem with being in this place – in Rifter’s world. If she didn’t belong to him, then she didn’t belong anywhere.
4
Rifter hadn’t asked for the native princess’ company. He’d kept his eyes shut. Even when he’d felt the girl’s lips against his, he didn’t open them. He wasn’t sure he should.
He hadn’t known what to do with her advance in the beginning, but she didn’t relent, refusing to let him escape her wiles. He could feel that she was warm as she moved in against him, putting her hands around his neck, and all she wanted was to taste. It only took him a moment to realize that what he needed was to be kissed. It was what he had been looking for. He gave in.
He returned her kiss to her, wanting her closer. He could feel her hands on his chest, testing his flesh and muscle. This was the sort of bold exploration he desired. She was not afraid of her lust. He kissed her harder, his palm pressing against the toned flesh of her back. She didn’t push him away. He touched her hair—
—and he stopped. The texture wasn’t as he’d expected – not as he’d been imagining. She didn’t have curly hair. These locks were straight and thick. This was the wrong girl.
When he opened his eyes, he could no longer pretend she was the one he wanted. The dark-skinned girl before him wasn’t Wren – she wasn’t the sweet, pretty blonde who looked at him so affectionately – and he immediately hated her for it.
The princess sensed that she’d lost him. She tried to kiss him again, but he pushed her back. He was on his feet and in the air before she could recover. Perhaps, if he’d never met Wren, he might have been meant for this huntress, but he didn’t need this as it was. He threw himself into the wind, the place where no one could follow him.
His head was still heavy, but he gave himself to the search again – one more time. He tried to think only of that, but his mind was muddled by other things. He began to consider that the others had been right about bringing a girl here. It still surprised him to see what a difference one girl made.
Chapter Thirty-Two
1
“Wren! Where are you?”
She could hear them calling for her, but she didn’t answer them. She had run a long way through the woods before she had finally collapsed with her tears near a fallen tree. She’d sat there on the ground for a long time, staring at nothing, her mind in a tangle.
She didn’t know what to do, where to go or how to solve anything. If she couldn’t be with Rifter, how was she supposed to survive here? But yet she could not leave. She had tried so hard for a chance to exist in this world, but so much turmoil kept piling on. What could she do?
Wren had exhausted herself with trying to figure it all out.
“Wren!”
Sometimes the calls were fairly close to her, but still she did not respond. She wasn’t sure why she couldn’t answer them. Maybe she wished they would leave her there, forget about her and let her lose herself to some nightmare that wanted to have her for dinner. Maybe she couldn’t hope for a fate better than that, in the end.
Wren kept recreating scenes in her mind – saw the huntress’ face as she looked down her nose at her. That girl had asked if she was Rifter’s woman because she’d had her own shrewd eyes focused on him. Wren couldn’t say that she’d been completely blindsided. She had been warned. In fact, she could see how Rifter might be more interested in the Tribal girl instead. Calico was a fighter, strong and confident. She was used to living in this world, while Wren couldn’t defend herself at all. Yes, she could see how Rifter would be more attracted to a girl like that.
A rustle in the trees drew Wren’s attention, and when she had turned her head toward the distance, she saw that someone was there – sitting right beside her on the tree.
She nearly leapt out of her skin to see him. Henry had come up and sat down beside her so quietly that she hadn’t noticed him at all. The others had trained him well. When she looked over at him, she saw that he was not looking at her, but gazing out over the forest with watchful eyes.
“I won’t tell them where you are if you don’t want me to. You can just sit here.”
After Wren had caught her breath and persuaded her heart to slow, she decided to be candid with him.
“I’ve already been sitting here for a long time,” she said.
They said nothing as she sniffled and wiped her face, as the others continued to call for her in the distance.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked eventually.
She took a deep breath and lowered her head. “It won’t do any good.”
They sat that way for a while, and at some point during those moments, Wren realized that their roles had somehow been reversed. Hadn’t she been the one who had usually tried to talk him back from the ledge when he was gloomy?
“You’re unhappy, aren’t you,” he accused finally, but it was not in the disgusted manner that she had once expected from her brother. It was a mild accusation, as if she could hide no secrets from him.
“Things aren’t going like I hoped,” she confessed.
“You think what we had before was better?” he asked.
Wren hadn’t thought about it before then, but his words brought the idea to her mind. Now that she considered it, she didn’t know if she could even compare the two. Each of her lives had given her a different sort of heartache. She’d thought this one was going to be better, but—
Why do I feel so miserable? Isn’t this what I wanted?
Maybe you didn’t really know what you wanted, the woman in the back of her mind said.
“I didn’t mean for you to think about it too hard,” Henry said in a reproachful tone.
“No, you’re right. Perhaps going back is something that should be considered,” she muttered, staring at the moss on the ground.
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he told her sternly, grasping for words. “There’s nothing back there for us. Here, we can do whatever we want, without any rules. We just have to survive, and at least we know that if we die, it will be because we were fighting for our own way.”
Wren wondered if he had come up with that himself or if one of the others had put it into his head.
“But what about the future?” she asked. “Are we supposed to stay like this forever?”
; “What’s wrong with that?” he wanted to know.
“Max would at least have a better life if we went back – if he was allowed to grow up. He wouldn’t have to fight. He could have a real future. Maybe, all this time, I’ve just been selfish.”
Henry stood up, backing away a few steps as if he didn’t know her – as if being next to her would cause him to catch her disease.
“You’re being selfish now! Maybe we don’t want to go back! You’d have me go to the mines?”
“I can’t see how it’s much different anymore,” she said, helpless.
“Well, you can go back, Wren. But I’m staying here.”
“Henry…”
“It’s Fang,” he told her firmly, and the harshness of his eyes spoke volumes. He was not her brother anymore. He had chosen to side with the others, and the blood they shared meant nothing. “I took the Vow. So did you, but I meant it. This is where I belong.”
She could see that he was resolute, and maybe he was right. He was better off here if this was where he wanted to be, and her departure would mean saying goodbye. She didn’t know what she wanted. She felt separated from herself, her soul and her heart taken from her body, leaving a shell.
“You can sit here for as long as you want,” Henry said, a softer tone returning. “I’ll tell them you’re safe.”
He left her there with her thoughts, but without any regard for her feelings.
2
For a long time after Rifter had fled from her, Calico sat in the wooded spot, confused by his rejection. There was not a warrior among her own people who wouldn't have had her, but the one she wanted had seemed repulsed by her affection. Why?
He was worthy – strong and skilled. He had power. He was the only one who could stand against the dark man they all feared. Calico had always known who he was, but she'd never been able to get close to him before.
Her people had beliefs about the Rifter and his Pack – those boys who lived forever. The tribes shared the island, but stayed away from each other. They took part in a silent treaty, but ever since Calico was a girl, she had wanted to know more about the mysterious boy. She believed that the Rifter could be what they needed against the darkness, and finally the world had brought them all together, but still her people shunned the boys. They were afraid.
Calico wanted to band together with those immortal ones and borrow their strengths to drive the enemy away. They had a problem in common, after all. Yet the elder had sent them away with only a warning to take care. How would that help? They couldn't only sit by while the land was being destroyed. Whether Rifter wanted to be with her – or whether he wanted that pale, weak girl – had nothing to do with how important it was to fight.
Sitting there on the damp earth, Calico heard a disturbance in the brush behind her. Moving on instinct, she pulled a knife and spun into a low crouch, preparing for an attack. Seeing who had approached her didn't bring her out of her defense.
It was one of the other boys – the one who’d chased her through the woods before. She recognized that he was strong and handsome, but he was not as impressive as Rifter. She saw that he was not holding a weapon, and so she stood up to face him. She lowered her knife a bit, but did not go completely off her guard.
He approached her, slowly, and she watched him with impassive eyes and a solid expression. What did he want? He hadn’t even tried to speak to her – hadn't opened his mouth. Had she heard them say that his name was Nix?
Calico allowed him to step up next to her, unwilling to show any fear in his presence. She studied his blue eyes, and suddenly she saw what he was after.
She couldn't protest before he’d grabbed her hand that held the knife, twisting it behind her back. He pulled her in and kissed her forcefully, and when her hand shot to his chest, she didn't put much effort into shoving him away. He might not have been the one she wanted, but his force excited her somehow.
Nix kissed her spitefully, and when he'd finished – after exploring her mouth as he’d desired – he looked into her eyes, firmly anchoring her there.
“What do you know about Rifter?" he asked. "What’d your elder say to him?”
Calico only stared at him coolly.
“I know you must be able to understand some of what I'm saying," he insisted. "You may have tricked the others, but I'm not fooled by you. I saw your face when we were talking before. You understood.”
She didn't speak. He could kiss her against her will, be as rough with her as he wanted, but she would not tell him anything as long as he was making demands. They stared at each other for a long time and yet she did not give in. She could tell he was getting impatient, but she didn't care. She considered it a weakness on his part.
“Fine,” he said eventually, “let me give you some advice anyway. You and your people may think you know something, but you don't. I'm sorry about what happened at your village, but just rebuild and move on. Stay out of it. It'll only lead to more bloodshed.”
He turned away from her then, but as she watched him walk away, she felt anger rising inside. He didn't know what he was saying. Perhaps he had been in this world longer than she had, but unlike him, she knew what was coming, and it would be more than just a few boys could handle. She fumed as he stepped away from her, and as it built up within her breast, the force of it burst her silence.
“One day soon,” she said, her words careful in the best English she could manage, “you need our help.”
Nix hesitated, but didn’t turn back to her. After a moment, he picked up his pace, leaving her alone with her silence and a lingering dampness on her mouth.
3
It was much later in the day before Wren came face to face with Rifter again. It was past noon when he’d flown in, after she had returned from her time alone in the woods. He hadn’t said anything to her, and though the dark-skinned she-devil was keeping near, Wren felt more depressed than angry.
She’d avoided him just as he had ignored her – though he did make eye contact with her once from across the fire, but neither of them moved on it before they had averted their eyes again.
They had eaten the evening’s meal and it had been much quieter than usual among the group. They all had deep thoughts on their minds, it seemed. Max had sensed it and he was in a foul mood as well. It wasn’t long afterward that Rifter was invited to another meeting with the Tribals to discuss the enemy. Wren didn’t know how it had gone, only that none were convening for battle once it was over. Perhaps they had decided that there was nothing they could do.
Wren was staring at the fire, nodding off while she watched Max, who kept trying to engage some of the native children in a game. They looked at him warily, as if they couldn’t understand that he was another boy, just because he was blond and fair.
Wren was feeling tired, wondering if there was really anything to do except sleep. Even so, she refused to go to the tent, despite Rifter not being there. It wasn’t hers, and she wasn’t going to take to it unless she was welcomed. She doubted she would be asked again. In fact, after she had seen him kiss the other girl, she no longer had such a strong desire to talk to him at all. She only wanted to draw up into a ball and be ignored.
It was terrible to feel so awkward.
Without her urging, Rifter did as she’d wanted him to. He’d retreated to the tent alone, and had not dared to approach her. Wren was glad. It was what she’d wanted – but after only a short while, she discovered that it wasn’t good enough. She couldn’t stop thinking about him, and being ignored was suddenly the worst thing she could imagine.
Trusting that the others would keep an eye on her young brother, she swallowed her pride and went to the tent. She was more nervous and sick than she’d ever been at the thought of speaking with him, her heart thudding inside. Her breath shuddered as she sighed heavily, preparing herself.
“Rifter? Can I talk to you?”
She wasn’t sure if he would grant her an audience at all, fearing that she would have to speak to him through the
flap.
Or maybe he’s asleep. I shouldn’t disturb him.
Wren was just about to change her mind and turn away when he met her at the door, his eyes bloodshot and tired. He didn’t say anything, but he stepped out of her way to let her enter. She went into the shade of the tent and turned to him, but took a moment before she could bring herself to speak.
“There’s something I have to say,” she started, but he cut her off.
“There’s something I have to say to you, too.”
His face was set with a firm expression. Wren was quiet, letting him speak first, perhaps for no other reason than she wasn’t sure how she wanted to begin.
“You don’t know what’s going on here – not with this world or with me,” he started. “You don’t know my enemy or what he might do if I just roll over. You don’t have any right to speak against this war or ask me to stop. I won’t hear it anymore. Maybe this will be the last time I have to fight him; maybe it won’t. I won’t make any more excuses for your sake. And I won’t make you any more promises about the end.”
Wren found that she didn’t have a way to defend herself against that, looking at the floor like she was a child being scolded. She knew that what he said was true. He wasn’t going to stop for her. He wasn’t going to do anything just because she wanted it, but the way he said it was harsh. It made her feel abused.
She thought of telling him what the boys had revealed to her about his fights with the Scourge. Could she make him understand? She didn’t have the energy.
“I’m sorry,” she said instead. “I know you have to fight him. It’s what you do.”
He was stunned by her admission, but he kept silent.
“And I know that you don’t have to do anything for me,” she went on. “You won’t. I’m not any more important than the others, and it’s clear that you don’t listen to them either. You don’t care about me like I thought – like I’d hoped. We can’t be together like I wanted.”