Chapter 51

Fifty-One

WESLEY

I paced the small space, catching glimpses of Finn’s dream, a lover turned, the blood curse tearing them apart. His heartbreak palpable, and yet I could tell that his affection for them was rooted in the wolf’s need for a pack. Finn, the original witchborn being, enjoyed the friendship of his pack, and consulting with Odion, but the relationship had stretched him in ways he didn’t understand.

Was he incapable of love? No, that wasn’t right. The affection and adoration had been there, just varied, as though the bond to the wolf had been greater than the bond to the human. He loved them, his memories of a dozen lovers wove themselves through our bond in memories. Each death causing a gouge in his soul that bled to this day.

As the years passed, he kept himself further and further apart from everyone. Creating packs, linking to them to keep them from changing others, adding the broken and taking their darkness as if it could stop their eventual madness, and burying his emotions in a handful of lovers that would eventually die, leaving him with another soul wound.

How many stories of a monster in the woods had been told around human encampments? Even I, as part fae, had heard more than my fair share. Perhaps they hadn’t been the Hunt as I’d thought.

I glared at the sanctuary watching for movement at the statue he’d become a part of for him to awaken. Was the other end darker than before?

The sky overhead had shifted to night, but the stars glowed bright above me, as if illuminating my space. My stomach growled, and berries grew at the base of the statue. The sensation of the wolf nearby made me want to snap at him.

“You couldn’t be kinder to him?” I sighed, realizing it had tried, though failed miserably as it had given him a mortal life free from most of this trauma. “I want to save him, too. Can we work together to fix this? He needs you and I need him.”

Finn rematerialized at the base of the other statue, falling to the ground in a heap and lying limp, though I could hear his heartbeat and see his chest rise and fall. He sucked in air, and the breeze wafted a hint of salt to my nose. My little king had a sensitive heart, no wonder he’d tucked it away in an iron box and split himself in half to keep from leaving it vulnerable.

“Finn?” I called.

“Have you lost people you love?” he asked softly.

“Yes.”

“Does it ever stop hurting?”

I let out a long breath. “Yes, and no? Sometimes you’ll be going about your day, life as usual, and everything is fine, and suddenly a memory triggers the heartbreak all over again. The more intense the love, the more agonizing the heartbreak is, even in memory.”

“Hmm,” Finn muttered, still lying at the base of the shadow. “Do you think it’s okay to rest a little?”

“I would prefer if I could hold you. How about you ask your wolf to let me out of this barrier and we can do this together?”

He sat up and turned my way, his face overridden with the blotched darkness. Dammit. Would there be anything left of him after this fucking trip down memory lane? He flinched, catching something on my face I couldn’t hide.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“Why?”

“’Cause I still feel powerless. Like the Finn I’ve always been, or at least that is most recent to me,” he said. His words formed a mist of vapor like the temperature had dropped. Cold blanketed the sanctuary, and I knew instantly it wasn’t his wolf causing it.

“Finn, honey, can you come this way please?” My gaze focused beyond him to the statues he’d already completed and the rising icy ooze that entombed them in crystals.

“My legs feel like overcooked noodles.”

Fuck.

Glowing eyes materialized in the darkest corner of the sanctuary. I thought for a half second it was Finn’s wolf, but as it stepped free from the shadows followed by a half dozen other beasts shaped more like Underhill’s lost monsters, I knew what I was looking at, the remainder of the Hunt.

They multiplied, waiting, gaze on Finn as the ice and darkness spread.

“Finn,” I called, heart racing. He swayed slightly, barely awake and I could hear his pulse slow as if on the verge of unconsciousness. “Finn, honey…”

A ghoulish smile crossed his lips. “That’s nice.”

“What’s nice? Can you get up, please?”

“You calling me honey.”

“Yeah? Okay, honey. Can you get up, please? Come here?”

“Barrier’s still up.” His gaze flicked down the path. The next statue open and somewhat illuminated. “Guess that’s the next quest point.” He fumbled to his feet, unsteady and obviously dizzy as he fell twice before limping forward.

I watched the glowing eyes with apprehension. They focused on Finn, but remained in the swell of shadows that had eaten through the first half of the sanctuary. “That’s it, honey. You can do it,” I said as he made his way to the newly opened statue.

He hesitated at the base of it, his face turned toward me, tears streaking his face. The darkness leeching over his skin turned them to trails of ice. “I don’t want to hurt anymore, Wesley,” he said, hands clenched to his chest.

I couldn’t stop the pain. And that was the worst part. Even if we somehow ran away from all this, these dark memories were part of what made him, and broke him. Facing them and finding his footing would either destroy him or save him. I prayed for the latter.

The swell of shadows reached the light of this new statue and couldn’t continue. I sucked in a hard breath. It was going to be a race, wasn’t it? Could Finn complete the memories without losing himself to madness before Winter’s curse ate through the core of his memories?

I forced myself to meet his eyes and smile while tears rolled down my cheeks. Fuck, I never cried anymore. “I believe in you.”

“You’ll get back to Summer if I can’t do it, right?”

“You can.”

“Wesley…”

“I believe in you,” I repeated. “You lived through this before. It’s all in the past. You have already conquered this mountain.”

“At what cost?”

And that was the hardest question to answer. What would be left of Finn, the sweet boy who had adored his mother, hoped for strength to heal his father, and spent his life looking for a family, only to have them always leave him, either through death, or the path of fate.

“Fuck,” I cursed. That was it, always fate fucking with people. “Remember the prize, honey.” I wasn’t much of one, but if it kept him moving, I wouldn’t hesitate to use it. “I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

He stared at me, his heart in his eyes. “Everyone leaves.”

“Not me,” I said. “Remember fate chose me for you.”

“But you can still walk away. You said so.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I said and pointed at the barrier.

“Summer could get you out. He did before.”

I wasn’t sure I agreed as Seb had been really afraid of how Winter latched onto Liam and through Liam the wolves. His duty would be to protect his realm, and I was okay with that.

“I’m waiting right here.” I sat down near the barrier, facing him, relaxed, but ready should the shadows break free. Would Finn still want me if he knew what I could become?

“The princess to rescue?” Finn asked, humor in his tone.

“Sure. Think of me as a princess. I want a castle, and jewels, and a large designer clothing collection.”

He laughed and it sounded more like a cackle than anything human. The dark half of himself rising through. Strangely I found it oddly comforting. As if the pretty young man with a heart on his sleeve could never really love me, but maybe the dark monster inside him could.

“Anything you want,” he agreed and reached for the statue.

“I’ll be waiting,” I said as the next vision slid over him. The rising well of inky slime waited too, reminding me of my vision. The world devoured by icy slime.