Beyond the Curtain

20 | rule 58

RULE 58: YOU WILL LIVE WHERE MISS NYMPHADORA SEES FIT.

✷  C  H  A  P  T  E  R     T  W  E  N  T  Y  ✷

Waist deep in snow, I didn't quite want to admit that Rowan had been right, yet again. It would have been in my best interest to get a full night's rest, but my mind had been unyielding, conjuring images of myself freezing to death in my wolf form—probably the worst way for my life to come to an end.

It had been over two weeks since my last circus performance, and if it were up to me, that would be the last time I ever shifted into my wolf. Of course, with Rowan's persistence, he wouldn't allow me to shrug off the wolf side of my DNA. While I knew I agreed to get a better understanding of what it meant to be a werewolf, I did not know what I was truly getting myself into.

Struggling to propel my legs forward in the heap of snow, I gritted my teeth and cursed Rowan. No coats—on either Rowan or me—could be found. He stated that, as a werewolf, our bodies should be able to naturally provide enough warmth. That might be true for him, a man who had clearly come to terms and embraced his wolf counterpart. I, on the other hand, would certainly not be so lucky.

I had spent the better half of my life suppressing my wolf. I couldn't begin to comprehend what it felt like to embrace that side of myself, and maybe that would lead to my demise as I slowly withered away into an icicle.

It would, in a way, be poetic to die in such a way since I had almost died in the snow over twenty years ago. Maybe I had not been meant to escape the sweet embrace of death as I had in the first place many years ago.

"Olive, you need to pick your feet up with each step, or else you're going to fall," Rowan suggested, several feet ahead of me.

Grumbling incoherently, I picked up my feet and made a face at Rowan's back. This was all so natural to him, and for me, it was the exact opposite. I couldn't help but both envy and hate him for it.

Shaking my head, I placed my hand over my pocket, feeling for the phone Sage had given me before Rowan and I left. No one was surprised, during this morning's breakfast, when Rowan announced to everyone I had grown familiar with in Nightfall, that we were cutting our trip short. Apparently—according to Heath—I should have seen this from a mile away. Rowan was an Alpha, after all.

Before we departed, Sage pulled me aside and assured me she would be there for me if I ever needed anything.

"I appreciate it, Sage, more than you could know," I had said, grateful for all Sage had already done for me.

"I wish someone had been there for me in the way I needed," Sage had explained. "Not to say that I didn't have anyone, but I didn't have anyone who really understood what I was going through. I don't want the same thing to happen to you, Olive."

"Sage, really, you've already done so much," I smiled, knowing I would never be able to repay her for what she had done for me.

"I'm glad," she beamed. "I hope the clothes I left in your room last night fit. I don't think we'll have enough time to swap them out if they don't, but before you go, I want to give you one other thing."

"Sage," I warned, toying with the hem of my shirt. "Like I said, you've already done so much, I don't think I could possibly accept anything else."

"I insist." Her smile was unrelenting as she fished something out of her pocket. Her fingers were enclosed around whatever she had found, my curiosity rising. I couldn't tell what it was.