Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

I can't move or speak.

My feet have taken root on the grass outside this cottage of my own making where the keeper is now trapped.

"I don't understand," I say. "I honestly don't fucking understand anything right now."

A deep sadness wells up within me, and I can't fight it off.

I saw the truth of my mother's death and it was like reliving that loss again.

Since seeing it, I haven't had a moment to process it.

I haven't had time to begin to understand why the keeper would do everything that he's done—so many contradictory things: keeping me alive, healing me, helping me, all after he took my mother's life and only to confirm that yes, he is my enemy.

I'm aware of my pack gathering around me.

Even Jonah has stepped close, his amber eyes dull.

"Darkness." Anarchy nudges me gently. "None of us can go in after him and Halle was right about one thing: we need to rest. And eat. And talk. You need to tell us what happened so we can understand and try to help."

I appreciate that ever since I told them that Emil is now my enemy, they haven't questioned me about it. They didn't demand an explanation or need to be convinced before they believed and followed me.

They're here for me. And I need to tell them everything.

I give Anarchy a nod and my pack quickly rallies around me.

A few minutes later, I'm settling down at the edge of the forest where the grass is soft and dry and the night sky remains visible above me.

Jonah and Lucian quickly set about building a cozy campfire—an easy task when Jonah can light up the wood they gather with a single touch—and Rumble and Strife head off to hunt, shifting into their panther forms before they disappear into the woods.

I place the broken book on the grass in front of me before I pull my knees to my chest.

Anarchy and Riot take positions like sentries on either side of me.

Within minutes, Rumble and Strife return, this time in their elven forms and with their arms full of food. They've both taken off their shirts and are using them to carry multiple items, which, when they crouch and let them tumble to the ground, turn out to be a variety of vegetables.

Anarchy arches an eyebrow at them. "Vegetables?"

Her brothers shuffle a little as they rise back to their feet.

"The rabbits were too cute," Strife mumbles beneath his breath.

Anarchy narrows her eyes at him. "‘The rabbits were too cute'?"

"Yep."

Rumble, too, shrugs.

"I'm a carnivore," Anarchy grumbles, lurching to her feet. "We'll see about too cute ."

Rumble and Strife watch her disappear into the trees.

"I was a rabbit once," Rumble declares. "Rabbits are off the menu."

Before the keeper successfully broke Anarchy's curse, allowing her to return to her dark elf form, he'd inadvertently turned her into a fluffy, little rabbit. When he tried to recreate the curse-breaking spell, he tried using the same sequence of magic. Rumble ended up with big rabbit ears, a tail that resembled a ball of fluff, and a rabbit's mouth and teeth. All while the rest of his body remained that of a panther. The spell took hours to wear off, and he was not impressed.

All of one minute later, Anarchy reappears.

Her hands are empty.

She plonks herself down beside me with a huff and a scowl. "They're too cute."

At that moment, one of the little critters scampers in from the trees.

It's small enough that I could easily snuggle it in my arms. It has floppy ears, a button tail, and rich, brown fur that's fluffier than anything I've ever seen—even fluffier than the little puppies the keeper turned the panthers into once.

If I dared to reach out and pet it, I wonder if I'd have a new ‘soft as' comparison.

Soft as towels. Soft as sheets. Soft as kisses. Soft as… rabbit fur?

Then it raises its head and I can only gasp.

"I know I've never seen a natural rabbit in person before," I say, pointing carefully, "but that isn't quite right, is it?"

The little rabbit has a nose that looks like it belongs to a piglet.

It snuffles at the air, its eyes bright, before its ears flop back over its features and it bounds away again.

From across the way, Lucian is also staring. "No, that isn't right."

"Still too cute," Anarchy grumbles.

Her brothers sweep up the vegetables from the ground.

"Don't worry. I can make a mean vegetable stew with these," Rumble announces.

Strife side-eyes him. "You've never made vegetable stew in your life."

"And I'm sure I'll be great at it."

They continue their verbal jabs as they carry the vegetables to the fountain to wash them.

An hour later, we've prepared, cooked, and eaten what was a decent meal, after all, and my stomach doesn't feel quite so hollow as it did before.

Focusing on meal preparation and consumption has taken me away from my darker thoughts, but as silence settles around the campfire once more, there are things I need to face.

"Darkness?" Anarchy finally prompts me.

I pull my knees to my chest again. I'm still wearing my tunic and long pants and it isn't cold here, but I feel as chilled as if I were standing at hell's mouth.

"I read The Book of Dark Magic ," I say. And then I quickly correct myself. "Or, rather, the book forced me to read its pages. As soon as I touched it, its spine unraveled into vines and pinned me down."

Anarchy reaches for me; her forehead puckered with apparent concern. She and Riot have maintained their sentry positions on either side of me, while the others are spread out around the campfire, where I can easily see them and their equally worried reactions.

"But, Darkness," Anarchy says. "That book…"

Anarchy once described the book to me as insidious and bloodthirsty.

Even among dark creatures, it's considered a dangerous, unreliable object.

"I know," I say. "It lies. It twists the truth. It serves only itself. I know this. But Emil didn't dispute what I saw. Of all the things he could have deceived me about—" My voice chokes up. "He could have told me that what I saw wasn't true, and I would have believed him. But… he didn't."

My pack is quiet for a long moment. I know they won't entirely understand what I said without context.

Lucian breaks the silence with a quiet question. "Can you tell us what you saw in the book?"

He knows, more than anyone else around this campfire, how easily the book can destroy a supernatural's heart and mind.

With a nod, I begin.