Chapter 32

Spencer

"Is she pretty, your mate?"

It's darker than usual and I struggle to see the other man's face through the gloom.

I wet my lip, the metallic taste of blood dissolving onto my tongue.

"Yeah, yeah, I guess she is."

He lets out a weak chuckle. "Sounds like you really believe that."

I frown. "She is pretty," I say with more conviction. "Maybe not in the conventional way. She's no blonde bombshell. But …" I still can't see his face and maybe that makes it easier to tell him the truth. "There were times I'd catch myself staring at her and I'd realize I'd been holding my breath the whole damn time, because …"

"Yeah, I know what you mean. My Daisy, she could do that to me too. In her human form she was stunning, would have heads turning everywhere we went. But in her wolf form," he chuckles again, "fuck me, she was terrifying. Fierce and strong and unstoppable. Freaking terrifying."

I think of Rhi, chin raised in defiance, eyes spitting with insolence. Maybe that's what I found most beautiful about her. Maybe that's what pulled me towards her. Her inability to back down, to give up, to refrain from fighting.

"And she wasn't ashamed, you know, of what she was," the were continues. "She wanted me to love both her forms and I did."

"Weren't you frightened? That you'd hurt her? That your beast would?"

"No, we would never hurt her. We loved her. Both of us. She was ours."

"I'm scared I'll hurt her. That he'll hurt her."

"What does he feel about her?"

I sift through my memories, through those glimpses of the beast's emotions. "He wants to make her his."

"Then why would he hurt her?"

"He attacked her."

"And he hurt her?"

"No, no … he wanted to devour her."

"He sounds like every other beast, head over heels for a girl."

I sniff.

"Wh-what happened to your girl?" I ask, almost scared to hear the answer.

He's quiet for some time and then he whispers into the darkness. "Killed, when they came for us. Killed."

"I'm sorry."

"I should have done more to protect her, to save her," he says and, though I can't see them, I can hear the tears in his voice.

"I'm sure you tried," I say feebly, not knowing what else to say.

"And maybe it was for the best," he says even more quietly, "I couldn't bear the thought of her here suffering like this."

"No," I say. We're silent again for some minutes, both thinking.

"Tell me more about her, your girl," he says.

I screw up my eyes. It's painful thinking about her, thinking I might never see her again. It makes my heart ache more than all the rest of the pain put together.

"Please," he says, "give me something to distract from this pain." And I think it's the pain of losing his girl he's talking about, not the physical wounds.

I blow out air through my teeth. "She came from the wastelands," I whisper, "an unregistered."

I tell him everything in the quiet of the cell. I tell him it all. The way I fought the bond. The way I treated her. The way I left her.

When there's no more to tell, the cell is silent again and I don't know if he's drifted back into unconsciousness. Or maybe he's so disgusted with me, he no longer wants to talk with me.

I close my eyes, willing sleep to suck me back under, and that's when he speaks.

"We all make mistakes. Especially when it comes to the ones we care about," he says. "If you get out of here, if you ever find your way back to her, you have to make it up to her. Fate rarely gives us someone to love, to belong to. You shouldn't throw that chance away. You should grab it with both of your hands."

In the darkness, I hear him wet his lips.

"Moreau," he whispers, "there's a prophecy. Do you know the one?"

I frown, wondering if the pain is making him delirious.

"A prophecy? A prophecy about what?"

"A new Queen ?eelfl?d."

My frown deepens. I recognize the name, but I struggle to remember it.

"They say a girl will come – powerful like the queen – the queen who had five fated mates. And she will free us all."

"What are you saying? You think that's Rhi?" I say with derision in my tone.

"I'm just an old, broken were," he says, "what the hell do I know?"

I shift on the hard ground, more pain shooting through my body. "It sounds like an old story to me," I mutter.

"Maybe," he says, his chains rattling, "but what if it's not?"