LOGINZephyraTwo days have passed since Theron left, and it feels like my entire world has ground to a halt.I can’t shake the nagging feeling that something is still terribly wrong.My fingers keep drifting to the bruises around my neck where Zhodin grabbed me. They don’t hurt anymore. If anything, they feel strangely warm against my cold fingertips.I keep trying to convince myself it's just a sign of healing, even though deep down, I feel the exact opposite.Khaisha has been doing everything she can to keep me occupied. We’ve stayed in her quarters since I first sensed Theron was in danger, and right now we’re packing separate baskets with food and essentials for the families affected by Stoneheart’s latest attack.The servants could easily handle this, but I practically begged to help. I needed to keep my hands busy before my own thoughts drove me insane.“Still thinking about him?” Khaisha asks, wrapping a warm loaf of bread in a clean towel to trap the heat. Exhaustion lines her eyes
"I'm sorry," I whisper as I find the small silver clasp of the bracelet. "I'm so sorry, Jareth." The lock clicks open. Deep in my soul, I feel the suppression spell dissolve. My real scent fills the small space, and my nose instantly picks up the faint smell of cloves coming from my skin. I’m not a werewolf, or a lycan but witches like me are still able to detect scents, albeit not as well as shifters. Nothing happens. Jareth remains perfectly still on the ground.A shaky, miserable breath escapes me as fresh tears blur my eyes. “So that’s it? I was wrong? It’s not enough?”Then, his gasp breaks the quiet. Jareth’s nose twitches as my scent reaches him, and his head falls back against the floor.His nostrils flare, drinking in the air with desperate hunger. His wolf whimpers inside him, and his pain becomes mine, twisting deep into my own heart. Even trapped in his unconscious state, his beast knows."Okay," I murmur, my hands flying to his hair to brush them away from his forehead
Anya"Come on," I press both of my hands onto Jareth’s chest. “Work with me, please.”I close my eyes, pulling every single ounce of focus I have left into my core. Feeling the heat of the restoration spell humming against my skin, I push it forward, forcing the magic into his body.I’ve been doing this since the night they dragged us down here. Healing has never been my strong suit. I know a lot about reversing spells, but this poison isn’t magical, I can’t do anything to stop it.But I also can’t give up on him. I have to try. The light coming from under my palms sparks and instantly dies.A sob breaks from my throat. I slam my hands back down on his collarbone and chant the words again. My voice echoes off the moonlit walls of the prison, sounding wet from all my crying.Jareth lets out a painful whimper, his body shifting restlessly on the dirt floor. He shifts back into his human form, and I know it’s because his Lycan is too weak to remain shifted.He isn’t regenerating. If he c
I watch his face. I see the exhaustion there, the bone deep weariness of someone who has buried far too many of his own.“I’m not here for your people,” I say quietly. “I know it’s hard to believe, but I’m here for my mate. Zhodin wants her. I want him dead.”He doesn’t answer right away. His eyes go distant, probably mind-linking with one of his people while he decides whether I’m lying.I decide to ask my own questions. “How many of you are left?”He doesn’t answer.I try again. “Why are you hiding out here in the mountains?”“Because kingdoms have hunted us for generations. Something I’m sure your kind knows well, since you helped sponsor it.”“Sponsor it?” I sit up straighter. “What the hell are you talking about? Eboncrest never sponsored anything like that.”“You sure?” He folds his arms. “Aside from Zhodin painting us as monsters and making sure our numbers keep shrinking, word is that Eboncrest has been helping finish the job. Sending special assassins to sniff us out? Come on
TheronHow long have I been here? A day? Two?Fuck, I can’t even think straight with these bindings constantly burning my wrists, eating into my skin and making me bleed. I’ve already lost too much blood, and it’s bad because I’m not healing properly.I need to get out of here. Find Anya and Jareth, then get us all out of here.Every time I test the strength of these binds, they tighten even more.Grimm scoffs. ‘Maybe it’s because you’re just a weak son of a—’‘Shut up!’ I yell back at him. ‘You’re supposed to heal us, but you’re as good as dead right now. Until you’re done acting like a newborn pup and get strong enough to break us out, I suggest you don’t push my buttons.’‘Or what? You’ll punch me?’ he snorts.My shoulder still throbs from when I forced it back into place earlier.Someone came in a while ago—a boy in his teens—to drop off some water. That cup is still sitting on the table in front of me. One look at the ring on my finger, and he was either too scared or too angry t
The others who came with us are dead. At least three were shot in the head by those arrows. I can't tell where the rest of our warriors are. These red furred Lycans jumped us the exact moment we were weakened by the trap.I look down again, watching them swing their knives as they walk in circles around Anya. I want to scream at her to just get down on her knees. They don’t look like they want to kill her right now, but they will hurt her if she doesn’t submit.‘Who are they?’ Grimm asks.Their clothes are practical, handmade from animal hides. It looks like they completely lost touch with the modern world, or they just refuse to use any new technology. Bright crimson moon symbols are stitched onto their clothes, and the way they grip their curved blades and bows makes it clear they live every day expecting a raid."Step back!" Anya screams. She throws her body over Jareth’s unmoving chest, using herself as a shield. "Don't touch him!"Two men in uniform step forward, completely igno







