Chapter Fourteen

Later that evening, once Leisel’s sound asleep in our tent, I creep out of it and sit in front, keeping a watchful eye out. Although I’m so exhausted I think I might drop, I force myself to stay lucid in case any threats come around. With the anxiety that’s been my constant companion, my vigilance is beginning to border on paranoia. Everything looks like a threat; the dark trees, the tents scattered about the clearing, even the embers of guttering fires.

Picking up a rock lying near the tent, I withdraw the pocketknife I inherited from my father from my pants and start sharpening it in a ploy to keep myself busy and calm my racing thoughts. The sound of metal sliding against rock is surprisingly soothing, and it offers the feeling that I’m in control of at least one aspect of my life; how sharp I make this blade.

The gentle night breeze stirs my hair, tickling the back of my neck. Aside from the faint echoes of leaves rustling on their branches and the occasional call of an owl, the night is as silent as it is dark. It’s as if the entire forest knows it’s playing host to predators, and the nocturnal creatures have decided to hide away—even the insects. The only light comes from the faint beams of the moon, overshadowed by the occasional cloud.

“I hope you’re not intending to use that on me,” a highly irritating familiar voice calls out.

I look up to see Camden standing outside of his tent—maybe twenty-five feet away from mine—hands in his pockets, his posture as regal as always. His shoulders are squared, his dark hair is wind-tousled, and he appears ready to go to battle. Which, considering our recent interactions, may well be the case.

“Not unless you give me a reason to,” I inform, and then focus back on sharpening.

When Camden closes the distance between us and takes a seat on the ground across from me, I let out a sigh of pure exhaustion. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“I could say the same to you,” he responds, a note of concern creeping into his tone. “When was the last time you slept?”

Who is he to worry over my sleep schedule when it’s his fault it’s been so disrupted as of late? “Last night.”

“Don’t lie,” he warns, then repeats, “When was the last time you slept?”

I give him a sharp look. “None of your business.”

In truth, I haven’t slept since I met Camden. I couldn’t afford to let my guard down in case anything went wrong and either Leisel or I were put in danger. It’s a miracle I managed to ride all day. It’s even more of a miracle that I didn’t fall asleep while reading to Leisel twenty minutes ago. Then again, considering the frazzled state of my mind and growing paranoia… maybe it’s less a miracle and more an indicator of stress.

Camden’s lips thin. “You need to rest or your body will suffer and eventually shut down on you.”

“Probably,” I agree. “I also need to keep myself and my sister safe, which takes precedence.”

Camden cocks his head. “Why would you need to stay up to protect Leisel? You’re both under the direct protection of my pack, which is no small thing. You’re as safe as you can possibly be.”

When we first met, he offhandedly referred to me as a simpleton. Now, it’s my turn to wonder if he isn’t the fool in this scenario. “If you think being under the protection of your pack makes me feel safe, think again. You’re the greatest danger to us possible.”

Camden looks genuinely confused at my words, cocking his head to the side. “How do you figure that? You’re my mate; I’d give my life to protect you without thinking twice.”

His words sound surprisingly sincere, and what I’ve read on matehood supports them, but that doesn’t make me feel safe in his presence. It doesn’t erase that, thus far, I haven’t exactly received the kindest treatment; not that I’ve treated any mythic I’ve come by kindly either.

“You’ll also whip me with a belt until I’m screaming and kiss me without my consent. I can take that—Leisel couldn’t.”

Camden thinks for a moment, and then his head jerks back and his expression morphs into disgust. “Do you think Wyatt would try to touch Leisel inappropriately? Is that what this is about?”

“Absolutely,” I respond honestly. “You had no compunctions doing it, so it stands to reason he’d be the same way.”

“Sierra, any affection he has towards her right now is brotherly or paternal,” he says, his tone seething with conviction. “Shifters aren’t fucking perverts. It’s only once she’s older and matures that his feelings will shift towards romantic territory.”

I study his face. His expression is genuine and his words sound sincere. Unfortunately, that doesn’t make me believe him. Even if it did, I’d still stay awake to protect Leisel for the simple fact that, no matter how tired I am, I’m too anxious to rest.

“I hope you take offense to this: I don’t believe you. Notice how you glossed over my mention of the whipping and non-consensual touch.”

He lets out a growl of frustration. “You took action with intent to kill me. I had to ensure you wouldn’t do so again. On top of that, if we’re going with blatant honesty here, it’s impossible to ask a shifter to keep their hands away from their mate. Touching you is a compulsion for me; it’s physically painful not to.”

I smile at the thought of that. “Then I guess you’ll get a good education of what it’s like to not have everything you want and to feel pain at the mercy of others.”

Camden’s eyes darken at that. “Don’t pretend to know anything about me, Sierra. I’ve felt pain at the mercy of the fates many times, and I’ve lost things very dear to me.”

For the briefest moment, his words cause a flicker of interest, because there’s an edge of pain to them I’d yet to hear from this Alpha. Then I recall the many horrors his kind has inflicted upon the native residents of Earth and find I don’t particularly care if the King has experienced some hardship.

“So has everyone,” I say dismissively.

Camden leaps to his feet, runs a hand through his hair, and starts pacing back and forth. I watch him cautiously, continuing to sharpen my blade. The sshrk of sharp steel against stone fills the silence, along with the sounds of Camden’s footsteps crunching over dead leaves and stray twigs.

“Why are you being so difficult?” Camden demands.

I toss back, “Because you wreaked havoc on my life without a thought as to how it would affect me, and more importantly, my sister.”

“I’m offering you a new life; a better life.”

He says that as if it makes a bit of difference. “One that I’m not interested in.”

He glares at me for several moments, looking a mixture of stumped and frustrated. Then, with a growl, he stalks off into the tree line, apparently having decided to leave me alone for the time being.

I peek into my tent briefly, ensuring Leisel didn’t wake up at the sounds of our argument. She’s sleeping peacefully in a pile of blankets—several of which a pack member provided and I begrudgingly accepted. Chip is likewise in dreamland, snuggled into Leisel’s long hair.

I close the tent’s flap and resume my post in front of it. Tiredness does weigh heavily on me, but anxiety keeps my thoughts racing and my heart pounding, preventing me from dozing off.

Several minutes later, I startle as I spot a magnificent black wolf break through the tree line. His fur is so dark I wouldn’t have noticed him if I hadn’t been on high alert, and he appears to be twice the size of normal wolves that I’ve crossed paths with on hunts. As he trots closer, I see he’s holding a mouthful of clothes—the same clothes that Camden was wearing, which makes me relax minutely because it tells me this is Camden’s wolf, his more primal half.

The wolf’s eyes, the same silver-blue as Camden’s, lock onto me as he slows his pace to a hesitant walk, as if not wanting to frighten me. He comes to a stop in front of Camden’s tent, releasing the clothes from his mouth to allow them to fall on the forest ground with a light thump, and simply stares at me.

Strangely, I don’t find myself wanting to scramble away from the wolf. Maybe it’s because I know he’s more elemental in his thinking and is unable to whip me with a belt if I piss him off. Maybe it’s because I’m innately drawn to magical things, a perk of my heritage. Maybe it’s the undying curiosity that’s always lived within me. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m too exhausted to kick up a fuss.

Whatever the reason, I don’t move or run. Instead, I tip my chin at the beautiful beast, eyeing him warily. “Hello, wolf.”

He takes my greeting as an invitation to move a few steps closer, stopping a mere five feet in front of me. He lets out a snort that might be a greeting.

The wolf looks me over with sharp, alarmingly intelligent eyes. Then, shockingly, he lets out a whine. Not a bark or growl or any other noise of demand, but rather one of discomfort and longing. Several beats of silence pass before he whines again, shifting forward without taking another step.

It seems almost as though he’s asking permission to come closer, which is a tad astonishing considering the forceful personality of his human counterpart.

“You want me to sit with me? Is that why you’re whining?” I question hesitantly, confounded by this situation. Is it possible the wolf is more gentle than the man?

He paws the ground in front of him and lets out a chuff, which I translate into a yes.

I tilt my head to the side, considering. “If I say no, would you leave me in peace?”

Another, longer whine, but he doesn’t make a move to step forward, which makes me far more agreeable. I’m inclined to like the beast, and my curiosity is slowly unfurling.

“Come on, then,” I offer, patting the ground beside me. “I suppose you can stand guard with me.”

He slowly pads over to me, as if not trying to frighten me, and then lies down right next to me, blue eyes staring at me expectantly. His tail begins to wag lightly as we watch each other.

I let out a small puff of laughter, set aside my knife and rock, and tentatively reach out to stroke his fur. It’s softer than it looks; luxurious and silky smooth. He leans into my touch at once, eyes fluttering closed and a low rumble of pleasure escaping him that emboldens me. When I scratch behind one of his ears, he scoots closer, then lays his big head onto my lap, right over my legs.

“You’re not so bad,” I murmur, continuing to pet him. The contact sparks a warmth within me, followed by the strangest sensation of safety.

Eventually, the wolf falls asleep with his head resting on my legs, his breathing turning deeper and slower and his body relaxing. I don’t get the urge to move or get away from him, so I simply remain where I am, hand resting on his head.

“If only your human would be as sweet as you, we might not have such substantial problems,” I whisper.

***

The next day, around noon, we make it to Kinrith.

Camden’s wolf woke up with the first rays of dawn and trotted back into his tent. He emerged a few minutes later, in human form and fully dressed, just as the rest of the pack members also began to rise. He bid me a polite good morning and asked me if I got any sleep. I bid him a less polite good morning and disregarded the question.

Neither of us mentioned my meeting his wolf. I think Camden knew that commentary would quickly sour the experience. I also think he suspects that I’m fonder of his wolf than I am of him—which, to my surprise, is true.

Still, the fact that I feel a stronger connection to his animal half doesn’t mean I’ll ever fully accept either the wolf or the man. I’m simply more comfortable with the beast, mainly because he proved to be kinder than Camden.

Leisel’s eyes are wide as we ride into the citadel. I’m sure mine are too because Kinrith is an entirely different world than what Leisel and I have experienced.

Beautifully carved horse-drawn carriages ride on the smooth paved roads—something I suspect the elite make use of when not going to more rural destinations. Shifters roam along sidewalks with purposeful strides. I notice that some of them have slitted eyes, like a cat’s, which tips me off that there are feline shifters intermingling with the wolves.

The buildings on each street vary vastly in height and architecture. Some are one or two stories tall, others so tall they disappear into the clouds. They’re all made of either brick or wood, shiny and polished and expensive in appearance.

I don’t spend long reveling in my surroundings before anger quickly sets in; mythics stole places and things like these from humans.

Many pedestrians freeze as Camden passes, bowing their heads in respect. Unsurprisingly, everyone recognizes him, and everyone seems to be both admiring and wary of him. The stares cast at him range from reverence to fear and Camden seems to eat the attention up, nodding and waving at selective passersby.

He steers his stallion to the side until he’s riding right next to me. As he does so, more curious gazes are drawn towards me and the people begin murmuring amongst each other speculatively.

“We altered as much technology to suit our needs as we could,” he tells me. “A lot of that fell to my father. Many things were salvageable once we tweaked them to no longer admit high-frequency noises, which caused us quite the headache.”

I fix him with a glare. “Bragging about the technology you stole from my people isn’t going to go over well.”

His lips thin and his look turns piercing. “As Queen, you’ll have the chance to help your people but only if you take your rightful place by my side.”

Yet another checkmate from Camden—and an opportunity that he knows I won’t be able to pass up. By making acceptance of him necessary to help those victimized and outcast by mythics, he’s ensuring I won’t be able to leave him. I’ll give the Alpha this; he’s clever.

I know he’s not giving me the opportunity out of the kindness of his heart—instead, he’s using my morality against me. In this moment, I make a silent vow to myself.

One of these days, I’m going to destroy Camden. I don’t know when, and I don’t know how, but where there’s a will, there’s a way. I’ll need to wait for the exact right moment to act. I’ll need to scrounge up every bit of patience and self-control possible to keep myself in check before the time comes.

When the perfect opportunity presents itself, I’ll strike Camden where it hurts most. I’ll make him as weak and helpless as his kind has made humans. I’ll happily serve long-awaited and much-deserved justice.

Instead of saying that, I produce an entirely insincere smile. “How magnanimous of you, Camden, but be careful when you try to manipulate me because two can play that game.”