“Tha gaol agam ort.”
Of the little Gaelic I knew, I knew that well enough. Opening my eyes to see the adoration and fierce will to protect me in his eyes, I could feel him as if his soul was my own and I whispered back, “I love you too.”
Tugging me along again, the grin never left my face until a bored looking Ben suddenly straightened up at the sight of his Beta pair. Quillan looked unimpressed that he’d been caught slacking but in this weather, who could really blame him for looking a little bored and grumpy? I understood the need to guard my father, even if I’d been assured over and over again that there was no way he could break out, but could the guard not have been placed inside the basement where it was at least sheltered?
“Beta, Beta Female,” Ben greeted from where he stood sentry by the door, his eyes flicking warily to Quillan as if he thought he might be in trouble.
“I’m here to visit my father,” I explained, suddenly feeling nerves that had my stomach twisting uncomfortably.
Ben’s gaze flicked to Quillan’s in surprise and annoyance creeped up again.
“Quillan warned you not to let me in, didn’t he?” I grumbled.
Quillan shifted next to me, mumbling something that was caught in the wind before I could hear it. Of course he did.
“Yes, but I’m guessing he changed his mind,” Ben replied, still making no move to reach for the keys that hung from his belt until Quillan nodded stiffly.
I slipped my hand from my mate’s grip and stepped towards the door that banged ominously against the wall as it swung open. Dark stairs led down, but at the flick of a switch, the lights buzzed to life. I swallowed, butterflies fluttering up again. Why did places used for such things as prisoners always have to look so creepy? Was there some unwritten rule against keeping prisoners in properly lit cells?
“I can lead you in if you need me to, Oria,” Ben offered from behind me.
I shook my head, taking a deep breath of crisp air. “No. I have to do this by myself.”
My father would think me truly weak if I had to bring in a bodyguard and I wanted to shove it in his face that I was more than he thought I ever could be. Ben gave me a comforting smile and I took my first step down then hesitated. Something was dripping, hitting the ground in a rhythmic patter. I inhaled on instinct, trying to get a sense of where I was heading before going any further.
“We’ll be right here and we’ll hear if you call for us. You’re well protected but you can always change your mind. Nobody would think you weak for not doing this, especially as he doesn’t deserve it,” Quillan said a little too hopefully.
It was too tempting an offer and I forced myself to continue down and not look back in case I really did change my mind. I could feel the slight glimmer of pride coming from my mate and I took the next step with more ease. The door was shut behind me and the click of the lock and rattle of keys had claustrophobia growing. I placed my hands against the walls, trying to show my own eyes that there was room and air to breathe. Managing to make the rest of my way down, I eyed the empty cell next to me. I couldn’t believe there was all of this beneath the house. Three cells took up one wall, while the rest of the room was full of things I didn’t dare let my gaze linger on.
Shuffling had me turning to the cell at the far side of the room and my breath caught in my throat. In this light, he looked worse than when I’d seen him outside the day before. Most of his face was hidden by a thick, scruffy brown beard that was matted and grimy. His hair was just as bad, and what I could see of his face was shadowed in dirt. The smell was the worst, my nose burning with each inhale. He’d not been looking after himself, that much was clear as he gave me a grin that showed missing and yellowing teeth.
“Oria, my darling daughter,” he mumbled gruffly, madness in his eyes that flickered between dark and light blue. “Finished whoring yourself to that male long enough to decide to pay me a visit, I see.”
I folded my arms in an attempt to seem uncaring, as if my arms around me could protect me from his words. He could say what he liked, it hadn’t been the first time he had called me a whore and it definitely wasn’t the worst thing he had ever called me.
“Father dearest,” I greeted, trying to get a feel for what mood he was in.
I didn’t dare get too close. Close enough that I could see him clearly in such bad lighting but far away enough that he couldn’t reach me through the bars of his prison. Slowly, he crept from the shadowed part of his cage, bony, wrinkled fingers curling around the bars. He was laughing, a deep, throaty sound that sent a shiver up my spine. Even with the bars between us, my legs tensed in readiness to run.
He stayed hunched over and the blanket he had wrapped around his naked body shifted to reveal just why he made no move to stand. My stomach twisted, my hand flying to mouth. Bile rose to burn the back of my throat but I forced myself to remain brave. I had seen many horrors in my life, so much so that I fancied myself unshakeable to a lot of injuries and sights, but nothing could have prepared me for this.
Skinny legs were contorted, his knee bent out backwards as if he was caught in a snapshot moment of the shift to his wolf. His foot was elongated, bones sticking out at odd angles, toenails not quite long enough nor sharp enough to be claws. It was no wonder he’d not been given any clothes. How he was so calm when he was this way was beyond me.
I had the odd urge to study him, to write down everything I saw in great detail. Nothing in the many books I’d read in my studies as a healer described anything like this before. I couldn’t imagine the pain he must have been in but I could see it in the harsh set of his mouth that twitched when he moved.
Maybe it was because he’d spent so long as a wolf or maybe because he’d struggled fighting each side of himself and neither was willing to back down. The male before me was almost unrecognisable as my father, stuck somewhere in the nightmare between skin and fur. Perhaps this was where the idea of the horrific beasts named ‘werewolves’ had come from. This would terrify even the strongest of Wulvers, never mind a poor, god-fearing human in centuries past.
He moved again, probably trying to settle into a more comfortable position but his movements were followed by a hiss of pain that screeched between his teeth, making me flinch. He chuckled again, his eyes wide with childlike delight at the sight of my fear.
“I came to see how you were and to talk about the past; everything you put me through,” I began, daring to take a few small steps closer.
“You don’t care how I fair, killer,” he hissed back, baring yellowing teeth at me.
Killer, another of his favourites. He scowled when he failed to gain a reaction from me, pressing his face against the bars. I watched him with fake calm, even though I myself could see my shirt move with every powerful and terrified beat of my heart. Swallowing, I forced myself to lift my chin so I was looking down at him, a technique I had seen Quillan and other high-ranked use many times; make sure they know you are looking down at them, that you are more.
When he saw that I wasn’t going to crumble at mere words, his face contorted into one of rage. I was sure he was going to do something until he simply snorted, crawling away from the bars. “I always hated you. My curse and burden.”
I flinched as if punched but shook my head. That one had always hurt because despite all he’d done, all I’d ever craved was my father’s love and approval. The corner of his lips twitched when he found a weak spot that wasn’t as well mended as the rest of my soul. A long nail scraped down the metal bar, the sound making me shiver and cringe as the screech pierced sensitive ears.
“The second you took my Maebh away, I despised you. Do you know what our people would do to weak pups, cursed pups like you back in our homeland? We would leave you out in the forest to die. I should have done that but the laws are different here and I respected them because they were my mate’s laws,” he accused with a grin.
Surely no pack would leave pups out for the wild to take. Pups were revered. Sacred. Treasured. No pack c
ould be so cruel.
“I know that’s not true. I know you love me, or at least you did. I remember how you cared for me when I was a small pup. What would my mother think if she could see you now?” I rebuffed, refusing to believe him. But maybe he hadn’t, maybe he’d just been more in control then, more able to hide his disgust for me.
“You never had the right to call her mother-wolf. If she’d lived, she would have seen that you were not made strong enough for our world. She would have hated you too.”
Closing my eyes to make sure he couldn’t see the tears that had formed, my nails dug into my arm. Would she have hated me? I couldn’t say. Sometimes I hoped she was still watching me, that she saw the trauma her beloved mate had beaten into me. No, I decided, it wasn’t me she would hate now. I’d often wondered if he’d ever raised a hand to her because I was certain nobody could lose themselves as much as he had so quickly. Had she suffered as I had and hidden it too?
“What changed?” I murmured, quiet enough that I was unsure my father had heard as his head cocked to the side and he frowned.
There was a flash of pain in his eyes, a deep sorrow that shimmered before his face hardened again. In that small second though, I thought I saw the male he used to be filled with regret, the male that my mother loved. Did that mean there was still a chance?
“I did my best to love you and seem like a good father in front of the pack but I realised they didn’t care. The pack loved my mate and they loved you but they didn’t care for me. The outcast son. They put up with me because I was Maebh’s mate but you took her from me, and in doing so you took the pack from me too.”
The outcast son, something I’d only heard whispered about in reference to my father, rumours that he’d been in line for high-ranked position in his homeland before his betrayal cost him his home, his pack, his country. I didn’t believe it. I didn’t believe that even when my father was sane that he was strong enough for such a thing. Maybe that was why he’d been forced to flee, because someone had taken the spot that was meant to be his. No wonder he was so bitter.
“The pack turned their back on both of us the moment she died,” he mumbled, beginning to look agitated, his eyes darting around the room. “Little, so little, and I didn’t know what to do.”
“They did care for you, Father, and for me. They saved me from you and exposed your lies that kept me your captive, and I was loved like a daughter by Kerra and Everett before he died. They gave me a home, they showed me what being pack really meant.”
“You don’t deserve anyone’s love.”
I bristled where the female I used to be would have cowered and agreed. “I do. I know that now. You can keep throwing your hate and grief at me but I’m not the frightened pup I was when you last saw me. I’m Beta Female of Scotland’s Western Pack, I’m the mate of Beta Quillan, I’m called Healer. You broke me, Father, I won’t deny that, but in doing so I’m stronger for it. I’ve seen the worst of our kind and the best. Because of you, nobody will ever watch me fall again.”
He stared at me blankly as if he didn’t believe me, or maybe it was that he just didn’t care. It hurt, his rejection of me always would, but I didn’t have to let it crush me anymore. I’d accept him how he was. In telling him all that I’d achieved in the last few months, I’d said everything I needed. After all, it wasn’t his guilt or apology I wanted, but my freedom from needing to be accepted by him. He turned his face towards the small window high up the back of his cell, closing his eyes as if soaking in the sun. It was clear he wasn’t going to acknowledge my words. It was time to leave. The sound of him moving again made me pause and look back at him
“When am I to be executed?”
The reminder of his possible fate made me feel queasy once more. Maybe I had hoped for his guilt after all, something that showed he could change, or that his death wasn’t needed to keep the pack and nearby humans safe. “I don’t know.”
“Will you watch when they do?” he asked, a smirk curling at his lips. “Will you feel joy and relief when they cut me down and my blood soaks the ground at your feet? Or maybe it’ll haunt you. Maybe you’ll never be able to forget that not only did you take your mother’s life, but your father’s too?”
“I’m not taking your life. Your actions are the cause of this, not mine,” I snapped, brushing his burden from my shoulders.
“Is that what you’ll whisper to yourself when you wake up screaming, drenched in your own sweat? I’ve heard you, you know. I’ve walked around this house and listened to your groans of pain and the panic of your breath when you finally wake from my grip on your nightmares. Even if I die, I’ll still be here. I’ll still linger. Every time you flinch from a male, or cower during fights, and scream yourself awake in your mate’s bed, it’s because you can’t escape me,” he sang, his laughter ringing through the room like a haunting lullaby.
My throat had closed up and I couldn’t speak, couldn’t deny that he was right. Ice filled my veins as the horror of that truth sunk in. The sound of him muttering nonsense to himself had me lifting my head again. Something in his features had changed but I wasn’t sure what. He motioned for me to come closer with a long finger and bravely, I did as he bid until the putrid stench of his breath could be smelt. Rotting meat.
When he was happy with our proximity, he squished himself right up to the bars, doing his best to rise up onto his feet despite the way his body shuddered in pain. The sound of his lips peeling apart so he could speak had me gagging. “Come with me. Leave now, we can get away and everyone will be safe.”
I laughed despite myself, shaking my head at the desperation in my father’s eyes. “You’re in a cage like the wild animal you are. What harm can you do? Why would I believe my coming with you would keep these wolves safe? You would kill me the moment I let you free, I know you would. You fear your fate but you’re the one that’s created it. I refuse to let you take me down with you.”
He looked aghast, lunging towards the bars of the cell and making me stumble back in fright as one of his claws managed to tangle in my hair. He reached through the gaps in an attempt to get a better grip but I ripped myself free and kept backing away until my back hit the firm concrete wall behind me. Fangs appeared from behind pale cracked lips as he snarled, saliva splattering across the floor as he shook his head in rage, still trying to grab me,
“No, Maebh. I need you. Why would I kill you, why would you say that?”
My resolve crumbled and I pressed impossibly closer to the wall. I couldn’t look at the desperation in his eyes, knowing he was seeing my mother and not me anymore. My heart was hammering in my chest at having been so close to him having his hands on me again, my scalp burning from where I had ripped my hair away. Rubbing the spot, a flash of memory took up my vision.
Screaming, stretching on tiptoe to try and ease the pain as my father tugged and yanked me to a room.
The metallic smell of blood.
It took me a second to realise the scent was real and not a memory.
Looking up, I blinked back tears to see my father’s burst lip, blood mixing with thick drool. I flinched again as he began throwing himself relentlessly at the bars, his words becoming garbled snarls that shook the whole room. It became harder to stay strong. I was stuck watching my father try his best to escape even as he injured himself doing so. His eyes began to glow a startling blue and he dropped, convulsing on the floor. His snarls now became grinding screams that rattled inside my skull as his bones snapped and rearranged slowly.
I couldn’t look away.
I couldn’t scream for help.
I felt like that frightened pup in my memories again, cowering against a wall, unable to protect herself. Weak.
The door swung open, clanking against the wall, the screech followed by thundering footsteps. Sobs broke through my sealed lips, my body doubling over in relief that someone had come for me. Another sickening snap as my father’s jaw broke, his wolf pushing through but not fast enough. Was this what happened wh
en we shifted? Did every bone in our body break to reshape itself into that of our wolf? Bile rose as more blood tainted the air, dripping down my father’s chest where he was clawing with malformed claws that weren’t quite paws yet. Fur was pushing through swollen pores, covering random patches of his body.
Hands gripped my shoulders and I whimpered, attempting to yank myself away in panic until Quillan’s scent filled my senses. Concern creased his brow and he cupped my face, forcing me to look at him. Always at him.
A pain-filled howl deafened me and my hands flew to cover my ears, my entire body trembling. Quillan swung me up into his arms and I clung onto him, burying my face against his chest, trying to focus on his heartbeat instead of the sounds from the cell.
“What do we do?” Ben asked, watching in horror.
Quillan shook his head, his arms tensing around me. “Nothing. There’s nothing we can do. This will kill him eventually.”
Crunching, grinding of bones, the noise put my teeth on edge. Why wouldn’t it stop?
“How do you know? Maybe there’s something Sam can give him?” Ben continued.
Quillan turned towards the stairs, carrying me away. “I’ve seen this before. Nothing will ease it. Make sure you lock the door behind us, Ben.”
Ben nodded, following us back up the stairs, leaving the sounds of my father behind us. The cold air was a welcome relief and I sucked it in greedily, still trembling like a leaf. But Quillan’s arms were strong and I wasn’t afraid anymore. He didn’t say anything as he carried me back to the front door, leaving Ben alone, and I didn’t try and tell him I was capable of walking. My eyes were drooping, my body and mind exhausted from even that short encounter with my father. The image of him convulsing on the floor would probably haunt my dreams for days to come.
“I’m taking you to bed, mate,” Quillan informed me and he got no argument from me.
Breathing in my mate’s scent, my fingers curled into his shirt. He shut the front door with his boot and shifted me in his arms as he toed his shoes off. Cathwulf would have killed him if he trailed snow inside. The halls were filled with the scents of a few wolves, meaning some of the pack must have come round.
Way Of The Wolf: Endeavour (The Wulvers Series Book 3) Page 26