Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

S tuck in so many ways.

In this forest. In my uncertainty. Even stuck in moments of time, events I can't change.

I fight my panic as I wonder if I'll loop around every time I try to get back to my pack.

Pressing my palm to my heart, I try to stop its hammering.

I've faced my father, fought the goddess of death, and even tussled with the keeper, but yet a bunch of sparkling trees are scaring the shit out of me.

Instead of backing away again, I take a step forward, eyeing my surroundings as I go.

Each of the trees is large, but not near the circumference of the ancient trees in the forest of Portland. These ones are slender but sturdy, their branches stretching overhead and weighed with apples.

With each step I take, I assess my surroundings, noting that I seem to be moving forward normally.

Maybe I simply need to walk straight through.

Like moving through the bad to get to the other side.

When I reach the orchard's central point, the energy radiating from the trunks of the nearby trees is the most intense.

It buzzes at the edges of my senses, sort of like the artificial lights in the apartment where we stayed in New York.

It was easy to ignore that electrical energy.

Not so easy to ignore the power in these trees.

It sends a prickling sensation down my spine, awfully similar to the feeling that overwhelms me when I release my wings.

It's painful. A tearing sensation even before the tearing has begun.

Fighting the impulse to spread my wings, I hurry onward until I reach the far edge of the trees and only a few steps will take me beyond it and into the rose garden.

The light outside the orchard is growing, indicating that dawn is only an hour away. I haven't slept and maybe that's a bad thing, but I'm not sure I could easily lay my head down and close my eyes in this place now.

I pause at the final tree, where an apple hangs right in my line of sight.

I could veer around it, but I reach up instead.

Extending the foreclaw of my right hand, I use it to cut through the apple's stem, catching the fruit with my left hand so it doesn't fall to the ground.

The claws of my left hand sink into the apple's flesh as easily as they tore through The Book of Dark Magic .

Suddenly, the same impulses flood through me again.

Dark, cruel, and malicious.

Take control of the light and the dark.

That insidious command slithers around and around within my mind. An unwanted directive.

Emil said it has echoed through time despite the sacrifices that were made to defeat it.

Take control. Make them yours. Seize the power. Take control ? —

But all I can feel at this moment is anger.

"Control is a fucking illusion!" I snap, as if I can tell the impulses to fuck off already. "There is no control! Only heartache."

At my declaration, the insidious commands stop.

They're so instantly gone that I'm a little surprised.

Even when I drag my claws through the apple's flesh, the commands don't come back.

My shoulders slump and my voice quiets. "There is only heartache and pain for dark creatures. And that is all there ever will be."

As if to punctuate my point, my stomach growls at that moment and I reconsider the now-mutilated apple.

Stabbing a piece with the foreclaw of my other hand, I pop it into my mouth.

I've never eaten a fresh apple straight from the tree before, only old bits of apples my jailer brought me, but this one is nowhere near as sweet as I thought it might be.

How fucking disappointing.

"Hamburgers and pizza are still my favorite," I mutter before I toss the partially eaten fruit over my shoulder and step away from the trees.

I pull up sharply when I make out Emil's form at the window of the cottage opposite me across the garden.

His eyes are wide and his lips are parted.

I can only stare back.

I'm not sure what I could have done to surprise him.

I'm certain apples are for eating, so it can't be because I've committed some sort of culinary crime, and, other than popping a chunk in my mouth, I've done nothing much more than mutter to myself like I'm losing my mind.

As soon as he catches me looking at him, his expression changes. His lips soften and so do his eyes. There's a little crease in his forehead and a slight tilt to his head. And then, mysteriously, a hint of a smile that makes me want to close the distance between us and ask him what he's thinking.

Not that he would tell me.

But. Damn . My body had finally cooled down and now that aching physical need burns within me again.

All it took was a look.

Damn him.

I grind my teeth together, sensing my sharp, black teeth descend.

"Control is an illusion," I say again, forcing myself to break his gaze and turn away from him, putting one foot in front of the other in the direction of my pack.

I am determined to find a spot next to Anarchy and force myself to fall asleep this time, but I've only taken a few steps when a flash of sudden movement from the cottage catches my attention again.

Emil now stands in the doorway, fully visible.

He must have conjured fresh clothing because he's dressed in undamaged white pants once more, although he's still shirtless.

I pause, this time standing well within the garden, my hand brushing the edge of a rosebush, the petals soft beneath my fingertips.

There's an intensity in his expression that I can't decipher.

He's… angry, maybe.

Very different from the surprised look he gave me only moments ago.

Oh, but it's so hard to tell…

He takes a pointed glance at the sparkling trees behind me before returning his focus to me.

What do you want from me?

It's the question he asked me .

Without taking his eyes off me, he takes a single step away from the doorway, slightly farther inside the hallway, still fully visible, and then?—

His right fist darts out and crashes through the wall at his side.

I jolt.

I can only stare as he throws himself through the wall with a roar that reaches me where I stand.

Wood splinters in all directions, some of the debris shooting through the doorway and more through the window, while I'm certain even more debris is spiraling within the cottage itself.

Emil himself has disappeared behind the outer wall, and now I can only hear him.

There's another crash, more sounds of breaking wood, followed by smashing glass.

What the fuck?

I don't understand what he's doing, but dark saints, the crashing and cracking sounds that are coming from inside the cottage tell me he's tearing the place up like there's no tomorrow.

My eyes are wide as I pause on my front foot, uncertainty raging through me.

I'm also aware of Riot running toward me and that my pack is stirring in the distance. But of course, the commotion is hard to ignore.

"Darkness!" Riot calls my name before he reaches me in a flash, veering toward the cottage, as if he'll run into it.

I catch his arm. "No, Riot. Stay out here." Then I spin to the rest of my pack, holding my hand up for them to stop. Don't come over.

"What the hell is the keeper doing in there?" Riot asks.

I can only shake my head. "Breaking things up, but I have no idea why."

At that, there's a sudden silence from within the cottage.

Riot and I both freeze, waiting and watching, and I'm ready for anything.