Chapter Sixteen: Panic Attack

EILIS

I knew what my father wanted when he summoned me into his room. I wasn't surprised to see my sister. She sat next to him, her eyes taking me in with gentle surprise.

“You look relaxed for someone who just hunted his bride.” She said, I narrowed my eyes.

“And you didn't attend my wedding.” I replied.

She waved it off. “It was a ruckus anyway.”

My father coughed and we both stopped talking to face him.

“You can get back to your reunion later, and that's when I'm finished with my questioning.”

“Questioning?” I asked back, looking at my sister then at my father.

“Don't act like you're surprised.” Aria snorted, “you should know the old man would have questions as to why your ‘Human Bride’ is still alive.”

I flinched, holding back the wince, it felt like she'd reached across and slapped me.

“I'm listening.” I told my father.

“How is she still alive?” He began.

I shrugged. “By pure luck?”

“Don't give me that, I'm asking as your king.”

“Then this conversation should be happening in the throne room.” I threw back.

“hooold your high horses.” Aria raised her hand. “Ignore what he said, we're genuinely asking as a family that cares about you.”

“If that's what would make you talk.” He added.

My brows raised. “Ignore that also.” Aria said. “And please don't lie or leave anything out, you know he'll try to find out more and that wouldn't bode well for you.”

I sighed, she was right. My father could be relentless when he smelled a contradiction. "He..she reached the Old Weir," I said, keeping my voice as flat as possible. 

I focused on a loose thread on the rug rather than the King’s piercing stare. "I didn't expect her to make it past the first mile, She found the solid ground near the markers."

Aria leaned forward, her chin resting on her palm. "And how did she find those markers, Eilís? Even our scouts miss them in a blizzard. Did you lead her there?"

"I was in the shift, Aria. I was hunting her.” I gave her a pointed look.

My father slammed his hand onto the desk, the inkwell rattling. "Then explain the state of the bond, how come the Wolf isn't hounding you?" 

“The bond is strong," I lied, the words tasting like copper. "It overrode the bloodlust. Isn't that what the legends say is supposed to happen? That the true mate tames the beast?"

"Legends are for the peasants to whisper over their ale," my father growled. "I am looking at a Prince who looks more haunted by a girl than he does by his own transformation. You're protecting her."

"I'm protecting my wife," I snapped back, finally meeting his eyes. "Isn't that what an Alpha does? Or would you prefer I brought you her head on a platter just to prove I'm beyond control?"

Aria’s "gentle surprise" shifted into something more calculating. She got up and walked around the chair, her footsteps silent. "We don't want her head, Eilís. We just want to know how she survived the claiming and the hunt when countless others have failed.”

She stopped right behind me, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Does she know, brother? Does she know what you really are?"

"She knows enough," I said, my jaw tight.

I had to say less, I didn't want to put Raven under more scrutiny than he already has. So I stood my ground, though my insides felt like they were being hollowed out. 

I didn't wait for a dismissal. I needed to get out of that room before the scent of my own lie choked me. I pushed through the heavy doors, the cool air of the corridor hitting my face like a slap.

I walked fast, my boots thudding against the stone. My mind was a mess of overlapping voices—my father’s suspicions, and Aria’s needle-sharp observations.

Everything in this castle felt like a trap. Every set of eyes I passed seemed to be looking for a crack in my mask. I reached my training room and slammed the door, leaning my forehead against the cool wood.

RAVEN

The walk back to the room felt like a dream. As the door was pushed open and I stepped into it, I shivered at the cold feeling of the room but I didn't care. 

I just needed the dress off. My fingers fumbled with the sodden velvet, the fabric heavy with the mud of the Weir. 

Calani rushed over, her hands shaking as she helped me peel the ruined layers away.

“Oh, Raven,” she whispered, her voice cracking. She looked at the dark purple bruises where the binders had dug into my ribs during the chase. “I thought... when the sun came up and you weren't back...”

“I’m here,” I said, my voice sounding raw.

I shivered violently as the cold air hit my damp skin, It felt like the walls were leaning in. The stone was too thick, the ceiling too low. I tried to take a breath, but the air felt like it was made of wool, clogging my throat.

I could still feel the phantom weight of the wolf on my chest. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw those hollow, golden eyes. The one who had laughed at the Prince. The one who had pressed his thumb into my throat and told me he held the leash on my secret.

“Raven? Raven, look at me.” Calani’s voice sounded like it was coming from the bottom of a well.

My heart was a frantic bird trapped in a cage, slamming against my aching ribs. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. 

“The binders,” I choked out, clawing at the damp silk. “Calani, get them off. I can’t—I can’t breathe.”

“I’m trying, I’m trying!” She fumbled with the knots, her own panic mirroring mine.

I leaned forward, my forehead nearly touching my knees. My vision was tunneling, the edges of the room turning black. I wasn't in the castle anymore. I was back in the dirt, the smell of iron and wet fur filling my nose. “I’m the one holding the leash,” the Wolf had said.

I was a prisoner. I had escaped the mountain only to walk back into a cage made of bone and cruelty.

“It’s off. It’s off, Raven. Breathe.”

The sudden release of the binders made my chest ache with a fresh, sharp pain as air finally rushed into my lungs. I sucked it in, gasping, my hands clutching the arms of the chair until my knuckles turned white.

“Drink this.” Calani pressed a cup of tepid water to my lips.

I took a sip, the water sliding down my throat like ice. The room slowly stopped spinning, but the dread remained, a cold stone sitting in the pit of my stomach.