Chapter 17 - Vera

The hallucination had left Vera shaken. She’d seen the aftershocks in the others’ eyes and wondered what private hells they had faced. Rami looked haunted. Vera had watched Moira, Rami, and Jessa each turn away from her after they realized she was not the competent, capable woman they believed her to be but a mess, scrambling to keep herself afloat. Disappointment and contempt had colored their words and expressions.

How long would she hear the echo of Rami’s words? “You’re not my mate. Fate would never choose such a worthless woman to be my match. I never should have trusted you with my child.”

Even as the vision warped Rami, stretching his features until they were barely recognizable, his eyes black hollows in his face, she’d felt the words land. It was too easy to imagine them coming from him, like they’d been plucked out of her dreams and set into the vision’s mouth. Then she’d realized that they were exactly that—her own negative internal dialogue fed back into her brain with the curse’s filter.

She knew that Rami would never speak like that to her. Even when he’d rejected her, she’d known that he respected her as a person. It had done little at the time to soothe the ache she felt as his departure, but it was a truth not even the pain of heartbreak could warp. He wasn’t cruel. Careless, maybe. But not cruel.

That clarity had been the key to breaking out of the hallucination’s hold, and she’d come to a moment before Rami had. Watching him struggle, her legs too weak to carry her to him, was torture. When he’d finally shaken it off and come to her, she could see the weight of what he’d seen pressing down, another burden for him to carry.

But in his tender touch, when he reached her, she felt his intent to share the burden with her, to make good on his promise never to keep her on the outside again, even when he was afraid it would hurt her.

“What is it?” Rami asked, when she nosed at the silver box again.

Amidst the clutter on the vanity, the silver box was unique. It did not carry the same film of dust as the other objects, and the delicate pattern of hearts and vines was clearly the work of an artisan. That object was from a time of careful craftsmanship, not a cheap trinket picked up at a dollar store.

“Do you feel this?” She made room for him, leaving paw prints in the dust on the cabin’s floor.

Through the walls, she could hear the others moving about, and she kept one ear cocked for any sounds of alarm or distress. She wanted Moira close enough to keep an eye on but her sister had insisted she didn’t need a keeper and that if she did, Jonah would be sticking close. Rami pressed his nose against the box. His ears twitched to the side.

“Something powerful. A pull to it. Both like and unlike the scent outside. What do you think it is?” He looked to her for an answer, sensing she was on to something. “Do you think it’s an eyeball or something?”

Vera tilted her head to one side, befuddled. “An eyeball?”

“Isn’t that something witches do with curses? Take a part of someone’s body and use it to, I don’t know, focus the spell?” He stepped back to let her continue her investigation, turning to face the open door. His ruff was up, and his posture was stiff, ready for an attack. It would be a foolhardy foe to attempt it on an immense wolf-like Rami.

“That’s not where I was going with it.” Vera pushed the box with her nose, sliding it an inch or so back through the dust. It was heavy. Not empty. “I think you’ve been reading too many stories.”

It wasn’t a bad guess, really, but Vera’s sense that the woman from Evelyn’s story was a victim, not a monster, screamed that it was way off. Whoever she had been, her mate had been torn from her and killed. Their love had been forbidden. She had suffered and anguished and longed for her love and, in the end, had been powerless to stop the attack. They had been ripped from each other.

Despite the attack she’d faced outside the cabin and the damage she’d seen the curse do to James, Vera couldn’t subdue the waves of sorrow she experienced while listening to the story. They thronged through her still like the echoes of a bell. I’m so sorry, she repeated endlessly to herself as she went through the woman’s cabin. Did you flee here after they murdered your love? Did you find this place a refuge, or were the howls in the woods a constant reminder of what you’d lost?

“I need hands for this,” she sent to Rami before shifting to her human form. Startled, he whipped around.

“I don’t think that’s safe!” But it was too late to stop her. The transformation was taking over, fur shrinking back into skin, teeth dulling, eyes dimming.

Rami whined and spun in a tight, agitated circle before resuming his sentry position at the door. His ears were flat to his head.

“It’ll be alright,” she soothed, reaching for the box. The metal was shockingly cold to the touch, and she drew her hand back to blow warm air on her finger. “But I think I’m really onto something.”

She braced herself and reached again for the latch, twisting it open as the frost bit into her fingertips. Using the back of her knuckles, she lifted the lid and let it swing back onto the wooden vanity top with a clatter. Rami growled, so deep it rumbled through her chest. He circled again, bumping his head against her hand with an insistent whine.

“Yes, yes, I’m being careful. It’s not an eyeball.”

It was definitely not an eyeball, but Rami, in his wolf form, could likely see better than she could, which was exactly what it was. She pulled her phone from her pocket and clicked the flashlight on, shining it over the contents of the box. Red silk lined the inside of the box top and bottom, and at its center, a locket.

Silver like the box and similarly filigreed, the heart-shaped necklace shone in the flashlight’s glow. She knew at once that whoever had made the box made the necklace as well, and the craftsmanship was so alike in its excellence. Unlike the box, the necklace was pleasantly warm.

“Were you just trying to scare me away?” She murmured, eliciting another whine from Rami.

Vera flipped the locket over and found a name engraved on the back. Elena. The woman’s name, perhaps, a gift from her lover. The pulse of power was like a field she had to push through each time she touched the necklace, like sticking her hand through a wall of dense static. But she had to know. Again, she reached for the necklace, and this time, she flipped the clasp that held the locket closed.

The heart opened. A tuft of tawny fur sat at its center, tied with a single red thread. Wolf fur. She knew it at once, and Rami confirmed it with a sharp nod. Her lover’s fur was kept in a locket, a secret that could cost their lives. And they had risked it anyway.

The locket was a symbol of their love, but could it also be the source of the curse? She lifted the chain from the box and set it in her palm, closing her fingers around the heart. Pain lanced through her hand, but she couldn’t drop the locket, her fingers locked in a spasm.

Rami whirled, sensing something amiss. The pain intensified, a thousand bee stings in her palm. Vera bit her lip to keep from crying out as tears streamed down her face. A new shade of darkness descended on the room, leaving her blind. She felt Rami at her hip, frantically circling, trying to find the source of Vera’s pain.

“We need to destroy it,” she gasped out the words around sobs of pain, fighting to open her hand. “It’s trapping her pain.”

And Vera was feeling it. Every ounce of hurt inflicted on that woman was being fed back into Vera through the gateway of her hand. The blackness in the room was moving. Like a carpet of beetles skittering toward her, the bedroom walls began to degrade. The floor receded toward Vera, but her feet were frozen to the ground.

Rami barked and shoved her back against the wall, edging her toward the door back to the main house, using his bulk to force her. He put himself between Vera and the crumbling structure.

Finger by finger, Vera pulled her grip free from the locket. “Your pain is tying you here, but he’s not here! You can’t get him back by doing this!”

She didn’t know if anything could hear her or if anything would care. All she knew was that the woman had never had a second chance with her mate, would never again know the warmth of his embrace, the safety she felt in his arms. Vera’s empty hand fisted in Rami’s fur, seeking strength through their bond.

He poured every ounce of himself through it. She could feel his love like a living thing, strong and bountiful, wrapping around her like a suit of armor and giving her strength. She peeled her pinky from the locket’s surface, and the necklace slipped from her fingers and onto the floor.

“Maybe somewhere out there, you’ll be with him again.”

She thought of the woman’s soul searching for her lover through all of time. Was there a thread to follow? Some invisible rope tying lovers together across many lives? Vera lifted her foot and brought the heel of her boot down upon the locket, and the metal, which had seemed flawless, crumbled beneath it.

The silver speckles joined the moldering black spreading across the floor, and Vera’s vision cleared, the darkness of the room fading away.

“We need to get out of here,” Vera cried, darting across the narrow band of floor remaining to the doorway. “Jump, Rami!” She backed out of the way, allowing Rami to leap across the gap.

She shifted as she ran, hitting the bottom of the stairs on four paws. A howl ripped from her throat, and the other wolves flooded into the kitchen, just on their heels. She spun around, counting to make sure everyone was accounted for, her eyes meeting Moira’s.

The decay of the house had accelerated, the entire top floor melting into the bottom floor as black ash floated away on the breeze. With it came the intense smell of the curse, choking the air like smoke. Vera held her breath.

Had it been enough? She hadn’t known what to do, not really, relying on her instinct to guide her. Her heart had known only the temporary ache of a rejection by her mate, but it had been enough to connect her to the poor woman’s spirit.

She leaned her shoulder against Rami and watched as the last piece of house melted away, leaving behind a patch of dead, black grass. Tentatively, she scented the air. For the first time since entering the clearing, the stink of the curse was gone and replaced by the fresh pine scent of the forest.

“What happened in there?” Spencer demanded, pushing his way over to Vera. “You were told to ask before making any rash moves.”

Before Vera could reply, Rami was there. He put himself between Spencer and Vera, hackles raised. Tension crackled in the air. Her Alpha and her mate faced off.

“You’re right, I was told, but I felt something in there, and I had to act. I wasn’t certain the curse would give us a second chance at it.” Vera nudged Rami out of the way and faced her Alpha.

If he was going to punish her for taking the risk, she’d have earned it, and she wasn’t going to let Rami take the heat for her. It was Rosewood business, not Silversands.

Rami was a warm, protective presence at her back. She had no doubt that if it came down to it, he would leap to take any punishment Spencer might dole out, and the relationship between the two packs could break down. It was one of the struggles of having a mate in another pack.

Adria interrupted. “We can discuss this later. For now, we should get out of here. The cabin and the scent might be gone, but there’s no guarantee that the danger is as well. Whatever you two need to work out, it can be done at home.”

Spencer shook the tension from his body. “Fine. Let’s go.”

The two packs turned and headed for town. Vera cast a final look over her shoulder at the place where the cabin had stood, now a hollow in the clearing.

“You did it.” Rami’s voice was tender and proud in her mind, like a caress. “You’re incredible, Vera.”

His words warmed her, the complete opposite of what the vision version of Rami had said to her. In her time of danger, he’d been there for her, protective but never overbearing. He trusted her to handle herself. She resisted the urge to ask him what he’d seen during his own hallucination. Whatever it was, he’d defeated it, and that took emotional fortitude. Perhaps this time around, things would be different.

She trotted ahead of him, tail held high. “Thank you for noticing. I’ll accept your admiration in the form of a back massage later.”

“You know where that will lead.” He didn’t sound displeased about it.

“I’m counting on it.” Vera picked up the pace, eager to get back to their home.