21. Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

Celeste's back hit the wall of his living room with a thud, a cry of surprise shrieking through the air. Ava's territorial snarl had been the only warning before she launched herself at the other woman with deadly intention.

Remmus intercepted her.

Velvet fur, massive claws and overwhelming predatory rage slammed into him. At the last moment, he reflexively threw his arm up to cover his neck; the wolf pacified when her teeth sunk into the fleshy part of his forearm. A burning sensation erupted where her teeth scored into him, but it was meaningless while danger still lurked. Nothing would calm her escalating territoriality until Celeste no longer posed a threat.

"Leave, Celeste."

"And abandon you with a crazed wolf?" A flicker of fear threaded through Celeste's shrill voice, punctuated by frenzied breaths.

"Go."

Leaving no room for defiance, Remmus shoved at her motionless figure with an air shield, hoping the impact would prompt her into motion. A scoff of incredulity echoed, but light footsteps announced her departure.

The door slammed behind her.

Once the other woman had left the premises, the wolf still attached to his arm finally stopped snarling. With a physical jolt, her eyes cleared of the all-encompassing rage. Then, the predator saw who she'd latched onto.

Whining, she tucked tail before gingerly extracting her teeth from his forearm. Each whistle-like whimper hit him hard in the heart, and when a soft pink tongue lapped gently at his punctured flesh, Remmus caved.

He pulled her against him with his uninjured arm. "I should've warned you."

Failure.

Before his fist tightened, Remmus intercepted the impulse, successfully compartmentalizing it until later. Ava tucked her snout into the nook below his shoulder, whining softly. Then, in a split-second shift, her human arms were wrapped around him.

Her cheek rested on his. "I'm so sorry, Remmus."

"We're going back to the den."

He stood with her in his arms, hating the fact that he'd brought her to this. Cupping a hand over the back of her nape, Remmus tilted his head against hers, his lips brushing over her hair.

They teleported seconds later, but instead of landing steadily, he pitched forward, slightly off balance. A spike of pain accompanied the act, but he wrapped his arm around Ava, masking the action as one of possession.

Failure.

Another tendril of violence lanced through already compromised synapses, and Remmus shook his head to clear away the fog that'd latched onto him. The earth spun, and a droplet of blood trailed from his nose.

Growling, he brushed his arm against it.

Remmus realized in that moment that he could no longer blame the silver. Not when it affected his balance and his teleportation. Such a small amount of poison wouldn't wreak this much havoc in his system. Over time, silver gradually dissipated in their blood streams, and this affliction hadn't slowed down or stopped. In fact, it seemed to be gaining momentum.

The coercion was consuming him.

"I'm sorry, Remmus," Ava whispered. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"I'm not going to forgive you for something that wasn't your fault. Celeste was a wildcard I should've foreseen and didn't; your wolf is possessive. I can't blame you for that. I won't."

Two hands gripped his shirt roughly, yanking him toward her so that their eyes met. "I can't stand the fact that I hurt you. You're bleeding."

It wasn't the first time someone he cared for had hurt him, and it wouldn't be the last. Only a year ago, Kaien had beaten him to a bloody pulp when he'd found his future mate testing a theory. Incidentally, Blair's theory had centered on her reaction to Remmus' kiss, but it'd still stung when Kaien had nearly smashed his face in once he found them in an embrace.

Remmus was accustomed to the feeling of betrayal by friends or family. In fact, he was only surprised Ava was so broken up about it. His parents had taken great joy in reminding him of his place, and he'd accepted it as a fact of life before he'd even made it past the first decade of life. The fact that Ava was apologizing for it—when it was clearly not her fault—made her the odd one out.

But as she stood there, tears misting with the pain of what she'd done, there was no way he couldn't say the words. "I could never be mad at you for that, Ava. Of course you're forgiven."

Forgiveness.

The debilitating need for penance slammed into his mind. Threads of coercion began to tighten around his throat, clawing at his free will as he fought against their reach.

Jerking away from her, Remmus pivoted on his heel and closed his eyes while he murmured some tragic excuse for leaving. His legs barely held as he sprinted back to his personal quarters in the den, unable to heed her calls to stop. Palm slapping the door open, Remmus kicked it shut behind him and lunged for where the dagger was concealed in his bag.

Trembling hands fisted around the blade, the bite of the metal sinking into his palm before he could stop himself. As he closed his eyes, he dragged the sharp end over the inked flesh of his left arm again and again. Blood beaded against the intricately detailed canvas of his skin, the grey-blue ink broken once more.

Numb to it after all these years, he sighed in relief as the strokes against his opposite arm brought respite from the urges that laced his mind like arsenic. With each red line he scored, a thread of coercion loosened its chokehold, but the invading darkness seemed only to grow in his mind.

Even after all these years, his mother's voice never left him. You'll take it from your flesh when you fail.

When his arm no longer had the real estate to appease the remainder of his penance, he stripped out of his shirt. Digging deeper, Remmus scored grooves into the snake on his side, cutting off the head of the serpent over and over in a blind effort to remove her influence.

It never worked.

His mother, dead all these years, still managed to make him suffer. After his due was paid, blood coated his skin in a macabre painting. Remmus breathed freely once more, but his mind felt heavier than ever.