Chapter 7 - The Prisoner and the Forbidden choice

Selene's POV

The fragrance struck me as soon as I entered my room. But the room was empty. The curtains were still. The fireplace had burned low. The bed was untouched.

"Adrian?" I called once more, more loudly.

No answer. The heart within my chest was beating a little. Alive. Present. But not here. My heart began to race. I went very fast through the room, and looked at the balcony. Nothing. Only the courtyard below and guards walking their usual paths.

I proceeded to the bathing room. Empty. He hadn't returned. I was in the middle of the room, and I was trying to think, breathing slowly. Perhaps he had been to the trade wing. Perhaps he was holding trysts with merchants. Maybe--

Another pulse from the bond.

Stronger.

Pain.

My stomach tightened.

Had he been hurt I should have felt more. Wouldn't I? Or was the bond still too new? I went out of my rooms again, and disregarded the curious expression of the guards outside.

“Give me the trade books of to-day in the morning,” I said. "Immediately."

He bowed and hurried off.

I didn't wait. I went to the southern wing where there were visiting merchants. The halls were busy. Servants whispering. There was a movement of soldiers in narrower patrol lines. The word of the taken werewolf had travelled quick.

I went up to the guest wing desk.

"Adrian Silverblade," I said. “What departure must he have been allotted this morning?”

The clerk checked the ledger.

Her brow furrowed. “No departure of that name to-day, miss selene.”

My pulse skipped.

"Check again."

She did.

Then shook her head slowly. "No registered entry."

I stepped back.

He told me he had business.

So where was he? I passed through the corridors and looked into rooms. Empty tables. Cold tea. No sign of him. Something within me began to move with every failure I made in searching him.

Who was Adrian?

The question was asked at first in a low key.

Then louder.

He had arrived suddenly. Impressive trade contracts. No family. I could not confirm any past other than the documents that had to be brought to court.

My chest tightened.

No.

That was impossible.

I shook my head firmly.

Adrian was my mate.

I had felt the bond ignite. Felt the magic accept him. That wasn't deception. That wasn't manipulation.

That was ancient law.

Still, doubt crept in.

Why had he appeared in my life so abruptly?

Why were all great things apparently revolving around him?

I stopped walking.

No.

I would not allow the insinuations of Thorne to poison my brain.

I trusted my instincts. And my instincts gave me another thing. The wolf they captured. He had looked terrified. Desperate. And Morgana would dusk execute him. And there would be nothing to find out in council chambers.

It would be found in chains.

I turned about and moved down to the lower parts of the palace. The dungeons were more chilly than the halls above. Damp stone. Flickering torches. The air was reeking of rust and magic repression.

At the entrance there were two guards.

I would like to ask the prisoner, I said.

They exchanged a glance.

“Lady Morgana had not authorized--“

“I do not care,“ I interrupted.  "Stand aside."

They hesitated.

I raised my hand and gave a tiny spark of power a crackle between the fingers.

They stepped aside, eyes wide open but brain blank.

I was alone down the narrow staircase. At the far end was the wolf chained to the wall. Silver shackles were on his ankles and wrists. His breathing was rough. The floor below him was stained with blood.

Footsteps of mine brought his head up.

His eyes were brought into focus.

You," he growled.

I stopped a few feet away.

The repression symbols in the walls rung softly. Everyone outside this corridor had to freeze for some time . I shut my eyes a little and said the incantation.

The world shifted.

There was still more silence than ever. The torches stopped midway. Footsteps above halted. Time held its breath. Everything froze, except the wolf. The wolf blinked, confused.

"What did you do?" he asked hoarsely.

“A temporary pause,” I said. "We have limited time."

He instinctively tugged at his chains.

"You came to finish it early?"

“Had I wished you dead I would not have frozen half the dungeon to talk, neither would I have excepted you from its effect.”

He studied me carefully.

I stepped closer.

He bared his teeth.

"Stay back."

“I do not come here to hurt you,” I said sternly.

His eyes would momentarily fall on my hands in an effort to find weapons. I had none. He was badly injured. Deep cuts along his ribs. Contact of silver on his shoulder has caused a burn. One eye swelling shut.

"You're losing blood," I said.

He didn't respond.

I got on my knees gradually, making sure that my movements were slow, so that he would not perceive a threat in it.

"Why were you in our territory?" I asked quietly.

Silence.

"You know the border laws. Crossing means execution."

Still nothing.

I put out my hand and touched one of the silver burns almost, but not quite.

He flinched.

"I can ease that," I said.

He looked at me, with a suspicion in his eyes.

"Why?" he demanded.

Since unjustified death is of no use to anyone.

He let out a rough breath.

"You're a witch."

"Yes."

"And you expect me to trust you?"

"No," I answered honestly. I want you to make up your mind whether it is worthwhile to die here in order to serve your pack.

That made him pause. I did not wait till I was thoroughly authorized. I put my palm gently against the unburned flesh close to his ribs and allowed magic to heal.

It wasn't bright or dramatic. Just steady warmth.

He stiffened at first. Then his breathing shifted. The wound started to heal gradually in my hands. He watched me the entire time.

You might be lying, he said to himself.

"About healing you?"

"About everything."

"That's fair," I said simply.

I focused on the silver burn, and neutralized the residue of poison, then knitted the mutilated flesh. His shoulders were slightly tensing up.

"Why were you there?" I asked again.

He clenched his jaw.

No answer.

"Was it random?" I pressed. "Or ordered?"

His eyes shook briefly to mine.

Interesting.

Why should you think of attacking without reason? I said. And we do not put patrols on without reply. Something is escalating."

Silence again.

But not empty silence.

Thinking silence.

I closed the last of the external wounds he had, and withdrew my hand.

“You heard her, you’re  going to be executed very soon,” I said calmly. “Your body was on display at the border.”

His jaw tightened. “Wolves would wipe you clean if that happens.”

"I can prevent that."

He gazed on me as though I were insane.

"How?" he asked.

"I can get you out."

He gave a harsh laugh. "Through walls?"

It is under this palace that there are old tunnels. Lost paths of the former war. They connect near the border."

His skepticism was obvious.

"You'd betray your own for me?"

"I'm preventing a war," I replied.

He observed me longingly.

“You are not what I had expected,” he admitted to himself.

"Likewise."

Time was running, if someone’s subconscious mind felt it was under a spell, they could crack it. I arose and unchained them with a low unlocking spell. The silver fell away. He shuddered that blood came back.

"Follow me," I said.

We hurried along the lower passages. I drove him through a secret passage-way behind a storage wall, down some very narrow stone steps not much in demand. The tunnel was dusty and old magic-smelling. He stayed close behind me.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked again.

It is because somebody wants this war, I said. "And I want to know who."

We came to the bottom of the tunnel and it opened up close to the border cliffs. The air outside was thick. The visible boundary was covered with witches. There were glimpses of black magic barriers in the distance.

I stopped.

"I can't go further," I said.

He nodded.

"I'll create a distraction. You run to the north when you get over the ridge.

"And you?" he asked.

"I'll manage."

He studied me once more.

"You're taking a risk."

"So are you."

I jumped forward and raised my hands and directed power towards the western watchtower.

A sudden rush of restraint caused a burst of energy to shoot up against one of the signal braziers, and set it on fire. Flames flared high. Guards shouted.

Motion changed at once into the disturbance.

"Go," I said sharply.

He didn't hesitate.

He ran.

Fast.

In a few seconds he was out of the lower ridge and out of sight into the woods above the border line. I exhaled slowly. It worked.

Relief flooded through me--

A hand was fastened around my shoulder.

Warm.

Familiar.

My heart stopped.

"Selene?" a voice said behind me.