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Chapter 18 — Infusions
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2025-12-25 20:00:14The chore board might as well be a wanted poster.
My name sits there in neat capital ink like someone took a deep breath and decided to see how far they could push me.ABIGAIL BARNS — KITCHEN ASSISTANCE (INFUSIONS) Infusions. Drinks. A word that should be harmless and instead makes my throat remember years of burning. Tessa reads it over my shoulder and goes pale so fast I think she might actually faint this time. “Oh no,” she whispers. “No, no, no.” Briar’s voice goes quiet in the way it does right before something breaks. “Absolutely not.” An attendant stands a few steps away, watching the board like she’s guarding treasure. She claps sharply. “Assigned wolves report immediately.” I stare at the word infusions until the letters blur, then force myself to blink and breathe. My wolf shifts heavy under my ribs, not a voice but a pressure, displease
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The Lullaby of Wolfbane Chapter 34 — A Princess Has Teeth
Adrian leaving my side feels like someone trying to peel my skin off.Not in a dramatic, poetic way, literally. The bond is quieter now that the heat is fading, but it still exists like a second nervous system. When he shifts even a step away, my wolf lifts her head and bristles, confused, as if distance is an insult.Adrian sits on the edge of the bed, pulling his shirt on with the same controlled precision he does everything else with. His mark is visible at his throat, mine and every time I see it, something warm and possessive flickers under my ribs.I’m wrapped in a sheet and stubbornness, sore in the most comprehensive way possible. He glances back at me. “You need to eat.”“I need you to stop moving,” I counter.His mouth tightens. It’s not a smile, but it’s close enough that I notice. “I have to.”The words land like a door locking. I push myself upright slowly, wincing. Adrian’s eyes flick to my face, sharp and assessing
The Lullaby of Wolfbane Chapter 33 — What He Already Knew
The heat doesn’t vanish like a snapped thread. It unknots slowly.When I wake this time, the frantic pull is quieter, still there, still humming under my skin, but no longer screaming. What is loud is everything else. My body aches in the deep, satisfied way that makes it clear the last day and a half wasn’t a dream. My thighs protest when I shift. My hips feel bruised. My throat is tender where Adrian marked me, and my mark on him throbs faintly when I swallow, like my wolf is still smug about it. I lie there for a moment and breathe. Then I turn my head. Adrian is asleep on his side, facing me, one arm curved in a loose, unconscious guard around my space like even his rest protects. He looks… peaceful. Not guarded. Not carved out of duty. Just a man sleeping. It hits me so hard my chest tightens. I shouldn’t have to wake him. I hate that my body still needs him so badly that the thought of distance makes my skin itch. I shift c
The Lullaby of Wolfbane Chapter 32 — Endless Waves
Melody was right about one thing in the most infuriating way possible: Heat doesn’t end because you finally give in. It just… changes shape.After we marked each other, the burning stopped feeling like I was being chased by something blind and hungry. It became focused, anchored, like my body finally knew exactly what it wanted and where to go for it. Which would’ve been comforting, except the answer was him. And heat doesn’t politely take breaks just because you’re exhausted. It could lasts anywhere from a day to fourty eight hours, Melody said. Long enough to turn time into a blur of water cups, cooling cloths, sleep snatched in short stretches, and my wolf purring every time Adrian’s skin touched mine. Long enough to make “privacy” a joke. Long enough to make me realize just how much restraint Adrian has been using, how much he’s been holding back, even after we chose each other. I don’t know
The Lullaby of Wolfbane Chapter 31 — Say It Again
The heat doesn’t creep in anymore. It hunts.It rises in a hard, fast rush that turns my skin too tight and my thoughts too slippery, until the only thing that feels real is Adrian’s bare chest under my palms and the steady thud of his heart like an anchor hammered into my ribs. I’m straddling his lap, trembling with the effort of staying upright and staying sane, and he’s holding me by the hips like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he loosens his grip.He looks less like a prince now and more like a man barely keeping a wolf behind his eyes.His gaze drags over my throat, my pulse, my mouth, then snaps back to my eyes like it physically costs him to look anywhere else.His voice comes out rough. “Abby.”I swallow, throat dry. “What?”He doesn’t answer right away. His nostrils flare as he breathes me in, and the sound he makes is low and involuntary, like his control just slipped a tooth.Then he says, very clearly, “Tell m
The Lullaby of Wolfbane Chapter 30 — Teeth and Restraint
The room should feel safe. It smells like him, pine, smoke, clean steel and the door is shut and the guards are outside and Melody is gone to do whatever doctors do after they drop a life altering bomb and say good luck like it’s a normal prescription.But safety doesn’t stop the burning. It just means no one can see how badly I’m losing my mind. I’m still half on Adrian’s lap, half on the bed, knees tucked against his hips. He’s propped against the headboard like a man trying to convince his own body that this is fine.It isn’t fine. Not for me. Not for him.Because the heat isn’t just heat, it’s a pull. A demand. A voice in my blood saying touch him, touch him, closer, closer, claim, claim.And the worst part is, it works. Every time my skin meets his, the fire backs off like it’s afraid of him.My cheek presses to the side of his throat and I breathe him in, shameless. I can feel his pulse under my lips. I can hear it. I can count it.
The Lullaby of Wolfbane Chapter 29 — The Night I Burn
The world becomes a tunnel. Stone corridor. Torchlight. Voices that don’t matter. The pounding of Adrian’s footsteps like a drumbeat I can’t escape.And the burning, gods, the burning. It starts in my skin, then sinks into my blood like something alive has been poured into my veins. Every nerve feels lit. Every breath feels too thin. My clothes feel like sandpaper. The air itself feels wrong because it isn’t him.Adrian holds me tighter as he moves, one arm under my knees, the other locked around my back and shoulders, keeping me pressed to his chest like he’s decided my body is his responsibility and the entire capital can argue with a wall.His scent is everywhere, pine and smoke and steel, so strong it becomes my whole oxygen supply. I bury my face in his throat without thinking. The second my cheek meets his skin, relief crashes through me so hard I almost sob.Not relief like “better.”Relief like “I can breathe.”A shudder
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