SEBASTIAN
Sebastian wanted nothing more than to shred the black wolf's jugular and feel hot, salty blood spurt into the back of his throat. He almost lost all control when Red finally turned away from the dark-haired giant, who dropped the lovestruck act in favour of a broad smirk in the blink of an eye. It wasn't Red's back that Hunter's eyes trained on as she walked away, and the insult incensed him to the point of seeing crimson. She was so much more than that --
The black wolf yelped as Sebastian's teeth ground tighter in reflex, drawing a sharp look from Red.
"I think Bradon's learned his lesson," she said with a little sniff, pawing at her tear-streaked cheeks with one hand. The other clutched her new leather pouch, pulling the drawstring tight enough to cut into the back of her neck.
For a brief, blinding instant, all Sebastian felt was rage. It used to be his arrowhead that she turned to for comfort, but he hadn't seen her wear it since she first stepped into Gretchen's cottage. He couldn't really blame her, as it had almost gotten her killed, but to see it replaced...
The leather pouch was too vivid a reminder of how he'd failed her, how her heart condition had gone unnoticed in all the time they'd spent travelling together. How many days had he kept the secret of the lycans on their trail by omission? How many days had he denied her the opportunity to access the life-saving medicine Hunter possessed, even if the bastard only carried it for his own gain? Red could have died because of his weakness, his pathetic insecurity and fear that he'd ruin whatever lay between them by opening his Goddess-damned mouth. The thought of losing her --
His thoughts stopped in their tracks, anger unravelling into despair when he realised his jealousy was unfounded. Red wasn't his to lose; Hunter had made that perfectly clear when he took her in his arms, seizing in an instant what Sebastian had barely even dared to hope for in all their time together. And while the smug, grey-eyed bastard had plunged the knife into Sebastian's chest with that kiss, it was Red's answering words that had gutted him.
I feel it too.
"Sebastian?" Red's voice filtered through the daze of his thoughts, her pale face swimming into his vision. "You can let go now."
The black wolf was twitching spasmodically beneath him. Sebastian realised with a start that he'd cut off its airflow. Slowly, reluctantly, he eased his death grip and let the broken creature slump to the ground. It was difficult to ignore his instincts after relying on them for so long, but the concern in Red's eyes grounded him. Even now, after all he'd learned, he didn't want to disappointment her.
"Are you okay?" she asked, scanning his body for cuts and scrapes.
Sebastian was suddenly glad he couldn't answer. He had no idea what he would have said if he was human. He bowed his head in silent offering, refusing to meet her gaze.
Once Red was satisfied that the blood matting his fur belonged to his opponent, she climbed astride his back with the brisk grace afforded by practice. Her warmth and weight was a bittersweet reassurance as they set off into the woods, back the way they had come. Sebastian resolved to use the journey to compose himself, so that he could discuss his concerns about the Blood Moon Pack with her frankly, without bias or emotion clouding his judgement. Only then would she be able to make an impartial decision, without feeling pressured by what he wanted -- and could ultimately never have.
Because a silver thread still bound Red's soul to Hunter's, despite the latter's efforts to cut all ties between them. And somehow, in the short time from now until they reunited with the others, Sebastian had to come to terms with the fact that Red was destined for another man.
In that moment, he loathed Nya more than ever.
RED
The Wraith lifted his snout from Rana's trail, wending through the crowded trees with the swift and near-silent grace of the wind. I flattened against his back as he picked up the pace, anchoring myself in place with fistfuls of the coarse, wiry guard hairs that comprised Sebastian's ruff. His undercoat was surprisingly soft, however, as I buried my face in his fur and let it soak up the last remnants of my tears. To say goodbye to this soothing, woodsy scent that was uniquely Sebastian, with a hint of sage and summer nights...
The silver thread pulled tighter, choking off the thought.
"Over here!" a woman cried.
Rana's voice was a brief slip of sun peeking through the storm clouds gathering at the edges of my thoughts. When she hadn't returned with Gretchen's help, I'd automatically feared the worst; there were more dangerous things than lycans in these enchanted gardens, and flying wasn't an option with the trees pressed so closely together. The gossamer webbing in the canopy hadn't escaped my attention either, as we tracked the wyvern beyond the dilapidated iron cottage and deep into the woods. Even if Rana did manage to climb a tree in an attempt to take wing, the webs would make for a sticky escape.
That shaft of light vanished when we passed through the last ranks of the trees into an open space, the world darkening by several shades. It felt more like stepping into a room than a clearing thanks to the interlocking branches overhead, which formed a vaulting roof of branches and leaves so tightly knitted that I couldn't see a single speck of the sky. Gretchen was standing in the middle of it all, shoulders stiff and lips tightly pressed as she leaned over a gnarled tree-stump that was large enough to seat ten people. Rana hovered at her side, equally anxious, though it seemed the wyvern manifested her worries through fidgeting instead of the gradual constricting of all of her muscles.
It wasn't until I swung my leg over the Wraith's side and dismounted that I understood the source of their concern. Laid out on the ringed surface of the tree stump was the Kirin foal, unconscious but still breathing. Eddy's mane was dull and plastered to the back of her neck, not a lick of magick in sight. Golden blood pooled in four claw marks raking down her flank.
"What happened?" I asked, rushing to the foal's side. When I reached out to stroke her snout, my fingers brushed the fine threads of fresh shoots, growing out of the tree stump and curling into the little foal's flesh. They pulsed with a faint, green light that was gradually absorbed by Eddy's skin.
Gretchen lay a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "She is merely sleeping, though I am working to determine what manner of tranquilliser is in her system, so that I can safely counteract it. It is quite fortunate that we were able to bring her here so quickly; my connection with the Earth Mother is strongest here. With Her aid, Eddy's recovery should be swift."
Gretchen patted the tree stump for emphasis, and I had to admit it did look like a pedestal for speaking, the trees like a crowd gathering to witness.
"How did this come to be?" I asked.
Gretchen sighed. "The foal must have followed me here and gotten lost along the way. I was communing with the Earth Mother when I heard a cry of pain; after following the sound, I found the foal collapsed on the ground, a Blood Moon poacher in the process of trying her up. It was a grisly battle, as the poacher was resistant to my magick and his claws were lined with some kind of paralytic toxin, but with Rana's help I was able to bring him down."
"More like up," Rana said, with a mystifying smirk.
I realised with a frown that one of the wyvern's arms was hanging limp. It, too, bore a row of bloody claw marks. "Are you alright?" I asked.
Rana shrugged with her good shoulder. "I'm regaining feeling slowly but surely. I can twitch my fingers now, see?"
'Twitch' was perhaps too generous a word for the motion she showed me, but I smiled blandly nonetheless. The wyvern knew her body best; I would defer to her judgement on the matter.
Gretchen also offered Rana a smile, though it was several degrees warmer than mine. "I'll patch you up after the foal. Thank you for your help, by the way," she said, lids lowering as she appraised the easy grace and effortless strength with which Rana paced about the clearing. I blinked at the sudden drop in her voice, like she was speaking over a candlelit dinner as opposed to the unconscious body of the Kirin foal. "I couldn't have done it without you."
"Any time," Rana said, waving off the praise -- even as her cheeks flushed to hear it. "So long as it isn't inconvenient timing, of course."
I snorted at that, drawing their attention once more.
"What of the silver light in the sky?" Rana asked abruptly, sobering as she turned to face me. "Did you have to fight as well? I am sorry I could not return with reinforcements."
Just like that, my thoughts returned to the conundrum I'd been trying so hard to escape. "Sebastian did," I admitted, glancing over my shoulder at the boy who held true to his wolf's skin. "Though I don't think he was hurt."
For some reason, the words didn't ring true. I didn't have time to fixate on why, however, as a more pressing dilemma demanded my full attention: the silver thread.
I had been swept up in that reunion like a child in the rapids of a raging river. Instinct had screamed that fighting the current was folly, so I'd done my best to keep my head above water as it swept me away, angling for the shore even as I somehow landed in Hunter's arms. That kiss had nearly drowned me; the musky scent and taste of him stuffing itself up my nose and down my throat, leaving me gasping for air when it was done. Hunter's was a cold, violent passion, and I wasn't entirely sure that I had liked it, despite having dreamed of it for nearly ten whole years of my life.
Even more unsettling than that realisation, however, was the fraying remnant of the soul-bond that manifested with our kiss. I wondered how long it had lain in hiding, that last, binding thread of our destined love. Hunter had proposed that it was Nya's doing, that the Night Goddess was giving us a second chance at the life we both deserved, but I suspected it was something far simpler than that. Hunter had bent all of his will to the task of cleaving the ties that bound us; had even called upon the Grace at his disposal, gifted to him by Nya herself. I doubted the Goddess would have allowed that sundering to occur in the first place if she had truly valued our partnership.
No, the explanation for that last, lingering thread was obvious: I hadn't been willing to let it go. Not in its entirety; not without a fight. I'd pinned all my hopes for a better future on Hunter's love, assuming that I could only be delivered through his power; that my role in life was to support him, to temper his strength with empathy, to lift him to ever greater heights -- never myself, I realised bitterly, cursing the naïve fool I had been. How thoroughly I'd been convinced that there was no greater honour!
I wondered now if some small, pathetic part of myself had ventured into the Wylds simply to test my strength, to prove myself worthy of the arrogant man who'd spurned me. Intentions aside, it seemed that I had; the way Hunter looked at me had drastically changed, from pity and revulsion to a hunter's lust for prey. A shiver ran down my spine at the thought.
"Red?" someone asked, pulling me out of my reverie. "I asked you who it was."
I blinked, realising that Rana was frowning at me. In fact, everyone was frowning at me, even the Wraith from his self-imposed exile at the edge of the clearing. His blood-red eyes were narrowed on my chest, and I realised with a start that I was clutching the leather pouch hanging from my neck. The dried herbs within were crumbling from the strength of my grip, so I made a concentrated effort to relax it.
"I told you all that I left the Blood Moon Pack," I said, squaring my shoulders and meeting all of their curious and concerned gazes. "But I wasn't entirely honest about why. I was... ashamed. I thought that if you knew the real reason why I left, you would look at me differently; that you would see me for who I truly was and pity me for it. But I see now that I was being selfish. My lie has landed all of you in trouble this day, and for that I am sorry."
Rana clapped her hands together. "Oh, let me guess! You murdered someone?"
Her excitement took me aback. "No, but --"
"Wait, don't tell me yet! You had an affair with someone else's husband," she guessed, waggling her eyebrows.
"Goddess, no!" I exclaimed, raising a hand and taking a step back, as if to defend myself from the accusation. "I --"
"-- accidentally burned down an important building, and ran fearing persecution?" she asked, already waving off my hypothetical crime. "Don't worry, we've all been there. I remember when --"
"Rana, please," I groaned, turning my face up to the heavens. I didn't know which deity I looked to anymore, but I would have accepted help from any of them at this point. "It's nothing so grand or exciting or morally questionable. It is simply pathetic."
Her midnight eyes softened at my earnest tone. "I'm sorry. I'm listening."
And she was; they all were, patiently watching and waiting for me to explain myself. I turned aside my hesitation, channeling that nervous energy into courage. It was time to admit my deepest failing: that I was truly unlovable. Not even Hunter's sudden change of heart had shifted my resolve on that fact; I'd seen the way he looked at me, fixating on the shell of my body without a thought for the mind that worked beneath. It was the longest he'd ever looked at me in my life, and it was the furthest he'd ever been from seeing the truth of who I was. If my Goddess-destined mate couldn't even bring himself to want to know me...
I could hardly bear to look at my companions. The wolf, the witch and the wyvern -- all of them burned bright as stars in my tear-stained vision, and I was unworthy of each and every one. I couldn't bear the thought of them needlessly risking their bright and sparkling lives, especially in the attempt to preserve mine. That was why I teetered on the brink of a decision that could change the very course of my life; my happiness in exchange for a position of power in the Blood Moon Pack, through which I could effect change from the inside out.
I wanted desperately to run, to leave Hunter far behind and never look back, but I couldn't deny the logic of his plan. Did I not stand a better chance of ending the kidnappings by joining him? Would that not be safer, more efficient, than Rana's desperate quest to find a long-lost messenger and gain Rya's Blessing? If I went with Hunter, none of them need put themselves in harm's way. The medicinal herbs crunched beneath my tightening fingers.
It was time. They deserved to know the truth, and the option I had been presented with as a result. That was the pain of inviting others into my life; I was no longer the only person impacted by my actions.
"It was the night of my eighteenth birthday," I began, letting my vision blur and my mind drift with the memory. "The ashwood gates parted just a crack as the hunting party returned..."