17. Chapter Seventeen: Luka

Theo's deadweight pins Luka to the ground. He struggles, but he is as trapped as a bug beneath glass. Octavian shakes his head as he watches before he calls a limping Linne over. Together, the two of them carry an unconscious Theo and a struggling Luka back to the cavern hollow. Luka takes the tiniest bit of satisfaction in how his mother pants and heaves as she does so, blood staining her leg and her perfect hairdo finally mussed.

All feelings of smugness fade when Luka catches sight of Xyla, now retied. Blood crusts her ripped trousers and streams from a swelling lump on her temple. Her eyes flutter as she sees Luka return, her expression crumpling.

"All you had to do was keep them here!" Octavian hisses to Linne as he struggles to drop Theo's unconscious body. Theo hits the ground with a dull thud, a low moan rising from his chest. "That's all you had to do, Lockehart. And yet, here we are with one almost escaped. Our whole plan could have unraveled thanks to your carelessness."

Linne fixes the man with a cool gaze, not backing down from Octavian's glacial eyes or the pale cream fur creeping down his arms. "My carelessness?" she repeats. "You should have arrived four minutes ago, Octavian. I knew they would use that tunnel should they decide to escape. Had you been here at the assigned time, we would never have had this problem."

Octavian's lips part but before he can speak, Theo twitches, muscles flexing in his back.

Octavian curses. "He's a monster," he hisses. "The monkshood should have kept him unconscious for at least ten minutes."

"Perhaps you should use the Midnight Kiss on him."

"No!" Octavian snaps, looking surprised at his own vehemence.

"Then we don't have any time to spare," Linne snaps. "If you won't do it, give the sword to me." She holds out her hand, her bloodied fingers shining in the blue lights.

Her attention diverted, Luka attempts to jerk free from his mother's grasp, but she seizes him by the hair. His attempt to escape is aborted with a single yank, and Luka gasps in pain.

At the noise, Theo stirs again, his lids fluttering. His eyes crack as he gazes up at Luka, awareness flooding his face as he takes in the situation. His gaze snaps to Octavian, and he bares his teeth – which are more human than beast.

Luka's stomach sinks. Monkshood, Octavian had said. It must do something to the monster inside an impyassus.

How long does it last? He glances at Xyla, whose wounds have started to heal. She doesn't meet his gaze this time, her logic washed away by panic – no. Not panic.

Cold acceptance.

No.

Luka wills her to look at him, to see the determination in his eyes. One failed attempt at escape doesn't mean the end. They would get out of here. His gaze darts to Theo.

We'll all escape.

"It's pointless to give a weapon to someone who doesn't know how to use it," Octavian says to Linne and draws the sword bound at Theo's waist. The blade is the length of his forearm and shines in the lights, untarnished and sharp.

Luka's mouth goes dry.

"Surely you wouldn't benefit from killing him," Luka says, the words leaping from his lips.

Octavian rounds on him, eyes bright. "Speak again, Siacchian," he growls, teeth growing past his snarl into fangs. "I've been eagerly awaiting the moment I can separate your head from your neck for a long time now."

Linne's hand tightens on Luka's hair. "He will remain silent," she growls. She forces Luka to his knees, and he is reminded of his childhood tutors. How many times had they done the same to him after another failed test? He had thought he was past this powerlessness.

But I failed. I failed the Bombani Exam.

I'm a failure.

Defeat weighs on his chest like a stone and Luka sinks beneath its cool waves.

All his life, the one thing he had that buoyed him above the rest was his position as the second to ever receive a perfect score on the Bombani Exam. The whispered scorn and rumors from his neighbors in the Abraxi District, the disappointed scowl of his mother when Luka had asked if he could make his debut day after day and her resounding "no" – even his father, who sometimes looked at him like Luka was a living ghost – the one thing that kept Luka from succumbing was his victory.

Who am I without that title?

The answer is all too clear:

No one.

No one important. No one worth saving.

Suddenly, Xyla's defeat made all too much sense.

Luka's shoulders slump. The pebbles scattering the cavern floor dig into his knees. His scalp aches from where his mother grips it, forcing his head to bow. Beyond him, he can hear Octavian crunching across the gravel, approaching Theo's prone body, sword catching the light. Theo groans quietly as the other man nears, managing to roll onto his stomach.

Theo.

Theo, who captured Luka's best friend.

Theo, who threatened his country and home.

Theo, who was the first to see Luka and know him and still want him.

Theo – who is going to die with him should Luka do nothing.

Tension shoots through Luka at the thought. His chest aches, as if his heart is compressing itself into a ball. For a moment, he allows himself to envision that dreadful future:

Octavian would slice Theo's head off. Blood would muddle the floor, mixing with Evland Childes'. Theo would never breathe again, never offer that surprised smile – like he was shocked it had somehow slipped past his defenses – again.

He would never kiss Luka again.

He would be gone.

Octavian would then kill Xyla and then Luka. Their bodies would be disposed of. And then what – did Linne really think she could trust these Kiterans? Did she really imagine their future would work together?

Octavian brandishes the sword, and a weak growl flutters past Theo's lips. Theo struggles, muscles flexing. Only his fingers show the tiniest signs of movement – is the drug starting to clear his system?

But I'm a failure, whispers a tiny voice inside of Luka. There's nothing I can do now. The words echo through Luka's head, crescendoing into a mantra that he desperately tries to ignore.

Octavian's sword rises, a silver arc above Theo's head –

– Theo's blood. Theo hurt. Theo dying.

Theo dead.

Luka's heart breaks. Something sweeps across his vision, basking the world in red. Distantly, he hears someone – something? – screaming. Something roaring. An animal wounded, enraged, and ready to lash out.

His mother holds him down with her arm alone. It will not be enough.

Sensations tear across Luka's skin, moving so quickly, it's little more than an itch. His eyes roll back, and it's like a film settles over them, casting the world in shades of gray. Suddenly, the sharp scent of Xyla's fear, Theo's anger, and his mother's bitterness rip through him.

Suddenly, for the first time in his entire life, Luka has teeth.

His maw gapes, and he jerks, powered by inhumane strength. He's never lost control like this.

He has never felt so powerful.

His mother cannot contain him.

Linne will never hold him down again.

"You told me you were certain he wasn't a hopiar!" Octavian howls, rounding on Luka as he rears up to his full height. Octavian moves as if he wants to stop Luka, but this puny human won't even be able to slow him down.

Linne reaches for Luka again. She has become so much smaller – almost frail. It seems ridiculous that she thinks she can keep him away from Theo. Luka moves with single-minded purpose. When her arms dangle in his path, Luka parts his mouth.

Linne screams as her right arm snaps between his teeth. Blood spurts.

Luka's mother sinks to her knees as she claps her hand to her shoulder. Her entire face clenches with pain, and through gritted teeth she shouts at Octavian, "You can't let them get away!"

"You swore he wasn't a hopiar!" Octavian hisses in response. He throws his weapon aside and braces his shoulders, facing Luka. His eyes glow blue and cream fur bursts down his exposed forearms.

But this stupid man is too slow, and Luka is so, so angry.

Rage like he has never felt before burns through him, tearing up his lungs and emerging from his throat in a bone chilling growl. Luka clears Octavian in a single bound and lands above Theo's prone body, bracing himself on top of the man. Protecting him.

Theo gapes at him as Luka stares down Octavian, daring him to try and approach.

Dimly, Luka is aware that he has no strategy. He has no plan – the only thought that pounds through his mind is his need to protect. To save.

To ensure that this man survives.

"Just buy me a little time," Theo rasps from beneath Luka, his words cast quietly so Octavian wouldn't be able to hear. "I can change. I can help you. We're getting out of this." Disbelief colors his words as he gapes up at Luka, taking in Luka's monstrous form. Beneath the rage clawing through him, Luka must resist the urge to shrink away in shame.

No one has seen him like this before.

But before Luka can reel his emotions in and pull together something like a plan, Linne calls out, "I don't know what you think you're doing, Luka, but it's a mistake and we both know it."

Luka bares his teeth, rounding on his mother, still braced protectively over Theo's body.

When he catches sight of Linne, cold shock slaps him.

His mother stands with her foot on Xyla's back, her good hand snarled through the girl's red locks. Blood spurts from her ruined shoulder, but Linne doesn't look at the wound. She jerks Xyla's head up as her robes turn scarlet. "You think you could kill me with that, Luka?" she asks as Luka stares at her. Laughter puddles from her lips. "Now – stop this foolishness. Control yourself, boy."

Habit is a terrible enemy. Half of Luka is already moving to obey as soon as the command leaves his mother's mouth – that, and Xyla's weak cry of pain as Linne jerks her head.

Leave her alone! Luka wants to say, but the words leave his muzzle in a snarl.

But his mother can't last long. After the initial panic ebbs, Luka can see how weak she is. Her usual pallor fades to a deathly shade of gray, and she sways where she stands.

Xyla stares at Luka as Linne's blood soaks her clothes. I can handle this, her eyes seem to say.

And then, her gaze widens, lips parting –

The growl is the only warning Luka is given as a weight slams into him from behind. Luka is gripped with a terrible sense of deja vu as he is thrown to the ground, a horribly familiar weight braced on his chest – an even more familiar mouth gaping above his face.

Octavian's wolf form is larger than Luka's monster. Luka struggles and howls, but Octavian has him pinned. Even as a beast, Octavian's smirk is clear as he moves to rip out Luka's throat –

– only for an enormous rock to crack! over his head.

Octavian stumbles away, whining. Blood wells and trickles between his ears as he staggers, blinking rapidly.

"Are you alright?" A hand settles on Luka's side, and he barely avoids the instinct to turn and snap at the touch. Theo's worried eyes fill his vision. There's another, smaller rock in his hands as he looks from Luka to Octavian, ready to throw.

I'm better now.

Theo seems to read the answer written there. His face softens. He gives Luka's face a stroke before crouching to collect Octavian's fallen sword. Luka climbs to his feet as Theo braces himself between Luka and Octavian and Linne. "It's over," Theo says, brandishing the sword. Despite his fluid movements with the blade, there's a clear awkwardness to his stride – the poison hasn't worn off yet.

"Over?" Linne sniffs, though her voice has grown weak. Her grip on Xyla slackens. "It isn't over, Kiteran. Return to me my son and we will talk."

"Son," Theo repeats, understanding dawning on his face. "And you must be Linne Lockehart – which means." He turns to face Luka – Luka who is a monster covered in russet fur. Luka, who Theo now knows has been lying this entire time.

Guilt curdles in Luka's stomach, and he looks away.

Theo shakes his head. "No, Linne Lockehart. I will not return your son to you. Here's how this will be –"

As he speaks, Octavian rises to his feet, and he circles Theo and Luka. Theo's attention is so focused on Linne – the woman's lips curl in a scarlet smile as the cream wolf rounds Theo's back, haunches bunching. Luka's muzzle parts in warning, but Theo is already moving.

As Octavian bounds over Luka to throw himself at Theo, Theo moves to the side. The dodge is elegant and blindingly fast, his sword sparking through the air as he shifts.

Just as quickly as the attack is sprung, it's over.

Octavian's momentum carries him past Theo, and he crashes to the ground, a whine leaking from his muzzle. Blood darkens his light fur, seeping from his wounded face. The cut Theo has left marks him from his right eye to his stomach, and Luka catches sight of shiny intestines as Octavian rolls away.

"Now," Theo says, turning the blade toward Linne. "Are you next?" It's only because of his proximity to Luka that Luka can hear the shake of exhaustion in his words.

Linne raises her chin, but even that defiant motion can't disguise the quiver in her lip. She releases Xyla, lifting her remaining hand to show she has no other weapons. Her shirt sticks to her side with blood. She looks past Theo, toward Luka, imploring.

"Son," she calls, and Luka wishes he could close his eyes and turn away. "You can't let them kill me, boy. Not now." She touches her stomach, leaving bloodied smears on the fabric.

"You dare speak to him," Theo snarls, raising the blade. The muscles in his back shake as he advances.

But Luka has already placed himself between Theo and his mother. Oh, how desperately he wishes he could turn back to his human shape, but the monster has a hold on him. He can barely recall his original flesh, much less ask it to return.

"That's right, Kiteran. He can't let you kill me now. Not while I'm carrying his sibling," Linne says. The victory in her voice burns, but Luka can't look back at her. If he does, he isn't sure if he'll be able to control the animal he has loosened. Instead, he stares at Theo, willing the man to understand. Willing the man's expression of disgust to fade to acknowledgement.

Theo's eyes drop to Luka's. "Are you sure about this?"

Before Luka can answer, something echoes through the tunnel – footfalls. Heavy footfalls, like the sound of a squadron bearing weapons and racing toward them.

At first, Theo looks triumphant. "You thought you could take this from me," he whispers, though Luka isn't sure to whom the man is speaking. But then Theo's victorious smirk wilts as he cocks his head, listening closer.

"Those aren't your men, Kiteran," Linne says. "I suggest you run now, should you not wish to find yourself caught on the end of the Aiutani"s blades."

Theo snarls and shakes himself. Fur rolls down his arms and his eyes flash – but he remains human. Growling, he advances on Linne once more, only to jerk to stop when his gaze alights on Luka.

Emotions Luka can't parse flicker across Theo's face, before Theo finally throws his sword down. "You don't want them to find us like this," Theo says. He forces a smile past his anger. "You hate hopiar, don't you? How will your people feel if they discover that your son is one of them?"

Linne sways. A tick flexes in her jaw. "You are Kiteran," she says. "They will never believe your word over mine."

Theo's smile darkens. "You would risk your perfect reputation for that?"

Linne's shoulders slump. She clasps a hand to her right arm, her face a terrible gray. Finally, she says in a low voice, barely audible over the footsteps drawing closer, "Go."

"I will be back for my people and my city," Theo says to Linne.

"We'll be here when you return with my son," Linne says. "I'll make a grave for you next to his." Her eyes meet Luka's. "I know you'll come back to me, Luka – if not for this sibling, then for Cassian."

As Theo turns to run, Luka makes a weak noise, swinging his head toward Xyla, who remains on the ground.

Theo collects Xyla in his arms. She dangles like a doll, her eyes glassy. Luka desperately wishes to comfort her, but the sounds of soldiers draw closer. Instead, with Theo at his side, Luka runs.