Chapter 39

CHAPTER 39

The rest of the day in the grove is spent quietly discussing amongst the three of us—or just Evander and myself as Aurora meditates.

I learn more about the history of this sacred place. The grove is where the first lykin communed with the great wolf spirit underneath the full moon. It is also where Conri will make me his bride. That realization prompts some imaginings of what it might look like. Would I be dressed in finery? Or wear nothing at all?

Of course, I imagined my wedding to Evander when I was young, both the informal ceremony under the redwood and the more mortal one later on where actual vows would be said and rings exchanged. Here would be a fitting place for me to wed, in concept. I would've wanted such a ceremony to take place in nature, communing with magics old and new, swearing myself to my partner before gods and spirits alike. But if—when—such a day comes, it will not be to Conri. Nor do I suspect it will be here.

Evander and I will find another redwood to marry beneath, well after we escape from this prison.

The escape plan consumes the majority of our discussion throughout the fading hours. Aurora gives her own input, as she's able. Evander and I brainstorm and debate between her moments of consciousness.

As the moon rises, so does Aurora. My feet have long gone numb—I didn't dare move them while she was recovering—and I stretch them slowly, wincing as feeling returns with pinpricks. But any discomfort I feel is dulled by seeing her revitalized and well.

Aurora takes my hand and squeezes it. "Thank you."

"You have nothing to thank me for." I squeeze her hand in return. "I would do it all again, gladly."

She flashes me a bright smile and I realize how much lighter I feel now that the worry is gone. Relief at having her back to normal floods me. This elation isn't just from the strengthening of the magic between us… A twinge of pain mingles with the joy and relief at seeing her well, changing up the mix of my emotions. Making it sweet, yet bitter.

Aurora will leave soon. And then I will never see her again. I want so badly to see her leave—to be free. But the mere idea of it is already carving an Aurora-shaped space in my heart. She was one of my first friends in a long, long time.

"We should probably head in." I turn my attention to the pathway that leads back into Den. "Conri will be waiting for me, and if I can return earlier, rather than later, it would probably be wise."

Evander and Aurora both sigh in unison, prompting them to lock eyes and share a smirk. The expression even slips onto my own face. Though it's short lived.

"Trust me, I share the sentiment," I murmur.

"My apologies, Faelyn. You're the one who's enduring the worst of him right now. We shouldn't be lamenting it," Aurora says.

"Lament away." I shrug. "It helps me feel not alone."

"You will never be alone." Evander rests his hand on my knee. It's the most outward contact he's made all day and my stomach flips. I want to lace my fingers against his and bring them to my lips to kiss his knuckles. But I don't dare. Judging from the almost tortured knit to his brows, he feels the same.

"Thank you." The best I can give him is a small smile that I try and pack all of my adoration into. "Besides, you two have served your time suffering at Conri's hand. It's my turn to share the burden."

"If I could make a world where no one had to suffer at the hands of a wolf king, I would." Evander's hands ball into fists and relax.

"Perhaps we might," Aurora says. "If I'm gone from this mortal form, then there will be nothing more for the lykins to fight over. No ring or person that will denote the power of a king."

"The lykin could return to packs," I offer optimistically, thinking of his ancestry in the woods. "Every lykin could live as they pleased, with those they pleased, governing themselves in their own way."

Evander slowly shakes his head. "The wolf king is a scar on the past of my people, but it is also our future. Our ways have been fundamentally changed from that time. The hearts of the lykin look to a king. I do not think it will be any different just because there is no longer a moon spirit to offer a single person power. They will find something different to squabble over."

The idea is too heartbreaking to bear. "You might be right in that the lykin have been forever changed. But there will be a time when a new precedent can be set. Maybe power is handed and gained peacefully and the leader is more of a spiritual guide—one connected with the old and the new—than a battle-ready warlord. Maybe they do lead all packs, but the leader is chosen from among them. There are many possibilities."

"I like your vision of the future better than mine." He gives me a tired smile.

"I believe that the lykin will fight for a brighter future, if given the chance. And that someone will step forward to lead them into that future." You , I want to say, You should do it, Evander . But I don't. If he is to lead, then it is a burden he must choose to bear of his own accord. It doesn't matter if I think he would be the most perfect choice. What matters is what he thinks.

But the idea of the fang crown of the wolf king landing on Evander's brow distracts me a moment.

I can see it so clearly—feel it, even. Evander's voice echoing throughout the main hall of Den, as he holds court with the alphas of the many packs of the lykin. People look to him for sage counsel on the history of their peoples. They do not make the journey to Den out of fear or force, but for guidance and to connect with an ancient past. And me…I walk among windswept grasses. The fresh scents of earth and water are my company as I, with the spirits' help, bring back trees and animals to the plains. I would help him rule, if there could be a place for me.

"Faelyn?" Evander's tone suggests that it might not be the first time he's called for me. I blink, returning to the present and abandoning the fantasy. Evander and Aurora have stood. He holds his hand out expectantly to me. I must've truly been lost in my thoughts to not notice. "We should head back."

"Right." I take his hand and he helps me up. Our grip lingers, but only for a second. Yet, as we walk back, side by side, our knuckles brush against each other in the cramped passageway. My fingers twitch as I fight the urge to lace them against his. Just one touch would be enough…one moment of him—of us.

But that is not to be had tonight. We head straight back to the king's chambers. The fire still crackles in the hearth.

"Good night," Aurora says, loud enough that Conri would hear if he's in the bedroom. The curtain is drawn and the shadows long on the floor, making it impossible to tell if he is or isn't there. "Thank you again, Faelyn, for your help. And for your escort and guard, Evander."

"It is my honor to serve the king," he says dutifully.

"Rest well, Aurora, Evander." My attention only briefly lands on Aurora, and sticks to Evander as she disappears behind her curtain. The flickering orange light of the fire highlights every dip and divot in his muscles. I shamelessly fantasize about how those biceps bulge when he grips my hips as I am atop him.

I love you , I mouth to him.

The shadows on his face seem to darken. His hand moves of its own accord, reaching for me, but he abandons the motion. Pain fills his moonlit gaze.

I love you. Always , he mouths back. Then he turns, striding out of the room with purpose, as though he had to gain momentum to ensure he would actually leave.

I linger, staring at the outline of where he just was. The caves are colder at night. But the winter in my heart only accentuates the chill. I have to move as well, in the opposite direction from him. But all I want is to run to him. To tell Evander to take me far, far from this place. Somewhere that we never have to think about any of it, ever again.

Soon , I reassure myself. My day was spent strengthening Aurora and plotting our escape. We will all be free within two mere weeks. They've endured this pain—worse—for years…I can hold out for a handful of days more.

With a bracing breath, I practically charge into the bedroom, past the point of no return that is the curtain. I slow the moment I'm plunged into near-total darkness. The only light is from the beam that is cast from the firelight underneath the curtain. It takes a second for my eyes to adjust and, not knowing the layout of the room, I don't move at all.

"I'm here, my queen. Come forward." Conri's tone is low, sultry, but that of a command. The shadows shift before me, accompanied by the sound of moving fabrics.

I do as he asks, my eyes slowly adjusting while I shuffle forward. The room comes into focus. It's all shades of black and gray, a hint of orange. There's barely enough light for me to make out the oversized bed that takes up most of the space. There's a table off to the side, against the wall, framed by two chairs. I can see the dark splotches of tapestries hung from the walls, but I cannot make out the patterns woven into them.

"Not far, now," Conri coaxes. I head toward the side of the bed he is not occupying, based on the sound. But he stops me with a tsk . "I'm not over there."

Bracing myself, I correct my course and walk around the foot of the bed, toward him, dragging my fingers to keep my bearing, they trail along the thick furs and quilted blankets piled to ward off the chill of the caves. As I near, he reaches out a hand. Conri is shirtless, blankets pooled around his waist. I can only hope he has something on beneath them.

"I have been waiting for you." He takes my hands in both of his and kisses their backs. It is a gentle and tender display. Which makes it all the more sinister, knowing his true nature.

Bardulf and Conri are men cut from the same cloth. But where Bardulf was overt and brash, Conri is cunning and methodical. He's a man who doesn't have a need for haste because he truly believes that the world will bend for him. It's merely a matter of time. And, if it doesn't, then he will break it by force.

"I am sorry to keep my king waiting."

"I will allow it, just this once. Is Aurora well?" Once I am in hand, always Aurora next. I doubt there has ever been a day in Conri's entire existence that he didn't spend worrying over the things that guarantee his control over the lykin.

"Yes." I rest a hand on his shoulder. "But I am tired from our time communing."

The silence that follows is unbearable. He takes far too long to formulate what should be a few words. I wonder what is going through his head. Fear fills my blood, weighing down my body at the absence of him saying something, anything.

"Then we should have you rest," he says finally. Without warning, Conri pulls me forward and I clumsily fall onto the bed. He expertly twists as I fall, arms shifting around my waist. I let out a soft oof sound almost identical to the plush mattress as it accepts my weight. "Comfortable, isn't it?"

I open my mouth to agree without thought, but pause, shifting, sinking in farther. It is easily one of the most comfortable beds I've ever lain in. The mattress itself doesn't feel as if it's made of hay, but rather?—

"It's feathers," he answers my question without my needing to ask. "Only the best, for the king and his queen." Conri's arms tighten around my midsection, drawing me closer. We're chest to chest, noses nearly touching. His leg drapes over mine, foot wrapping around my calf like he's some kind of sea monster ensnaring me. "It will be a good life, you know."

"What?" I don't follow; the statement seems to come out nowhere.

"Witch Queen of the Lykin. Your new title even has a nice ring to it," he murmurs, looking down at me from the other side of the equally plush pillow with heavy lids. "You will be mighty. Feared. I will find any spirit you desire and none shall ever question your strength."

I smile, though I can feel it doesn't reach my eyes. Fortunately, he'll explain it away using my work with Aurora. He will see it as a tired smile, not pitying.

What a sad existence you have… To always be looking at the world in terms of might and conquest. To be looking at what can be taken as the measure of a leader, rather than what can be given. To value fear more than love.

"It will be like a dream," I say, hoping that it never becomes anything more than his dream.

"It can be, or it can be a nightmare." His heavy lids now look like narrowed eyes. Examining me. Studying. "You wield powers that exceed my own."

"I don't?—"

"You can drop the pretense, Faelyn." Even though his tone has gone harsh, he frees a hand from my waist to caress my jaw. "We both know the strength you wield. If I'm not careful, you could get a mind to turn it against me."

"I'd never," I whisper.

"Good. Because you know what the other alphas murmur in my ears?" He dips his chin to better meet my eyes. "To kill you."

"What?" I feign surprise, thankful I know the truth—that it was Conri's inclination, no other alphas necessary. "But I—why?"

"They think I can take the power out of you that way. That instead of taking you before the great wolf spirit to wed you, I should do it to kill you. And ask that he help me draw the power from your blood into my own. That way, it will linger forever in my bloodline—the blood of kings."

He's really telling me everything. "But…there is another way to join our blood."

"Another fact I have delighted in reminding them. So, it's in your hands, Faelyn. Will you be my eager bride and carry my heirs?"

Old gods. I might be sick. My mind races with what I can say next and a wild plan strikes like lightning. "When we are wed, I will perform a spell that night to ensure my fertility."

"My alphas might need assurances before the wedding of your willingness."

"Then tomorrow, I shall gather the materials for my spell."

"Good. Then, when you are ripe for me tomorrow night, I will fill these caverns with your screams." He grins gleefully and leans forward to kiss me. I work to return the kiss, aware that he hasn't said they would be screams of passion.

Fortunately, the assurance seems to have satisfied him enough for the night. He leans away, releasing me, and rolls in the other direction. As if now that he knows he will have me when he wants, he no longer needs to pretend to woo me.

I shift onto my back, wiggling just enough that I can get some space between us without it being suspicious and I stare up at the ceiling. Breathe, Faelyn, breathe, you'll be fine. There's a plan. You'll be fine. Yet my heart races as fast as the first time Conri chased me through the woods. I clutch my shirt over my chest, willing it to slow. It takes every shred of self-control not to get up and run to Evander right now.

But I stay.

I stare up at the ceiling and remind myself of every reason I have not to be afraid. Of the power Aurora has placed within me that has empowered me to commune with the spirits. Of the different magics my grandma taught me and wove into the cape at the foot of the bed, the plans I have to use all of them to thwart Conri. And Evander.

Evander …

The notions from earlier return. Of Evander being the king of the lykin and leading them to a glorious age. I play scenes in my mind of him being a just and fair ruler. And of us returning to this room at the end of a long day in service to his people.

I imagine what it might be like to sleep in this bed with Evander at my side. To be the bride of the wolf king when it is a wolf king of my choosing. That is the dream that finally relaxes me enough that I can fall into slumber. I need all the rest I can get, given what I've just done.