Page 69 of The Howling
“And what if she rejects you because youdidn’ttrust her enough to tell her?” Ellie scolds.
My mother puts a hand on her shoulder, her translucent features hard.
“I don’t want my only son rejected, but it was never a risk. You have hearts which are fated to be together,” she says. “Thechoice, Reavely, is whether you want to be bound to a female who knows you don’t trust her, respect her, or value her or one which does.”
The horror rushes into my heart. What have I done? I went by how I feel, not how my mate should be feeling. My desire to protect her came out in all the wrong ways.
Wynter did not need protecting from what I did but from me.
Above me, one of the great windows caves in with a barrage of magic. I leap for Linton, grabbing him by the throat and squeezing.
“This is not my doing,” he says, his eyes redder than ever. “This is the storm you set in motion.”
“And whose side are you on?” I snarl as I toss him aside.
I have to get to Wynter. The castle will survive whatever is thrown at it, it always does, but I need my mate. I have to tell her how wrong I was.
She has to know everything.
A second window comes in as I race for the stairs, attempting to catch her scent somewhere on the breeze, to be able to track her down, to fall at her feet and beg her forgiveness.
Nothing can keep me from her.
“Take the Barghest!” I hear the snarling voice behind me, one which is familiar. “Use the wolfsbane before he shifts.”
I’m already in my were form, but at these words, I shift to my hound form. Or at least I try because above me is the most enormous, cloud and as my body changes, it descends, filling my lungs and pulling at my consciousness.
I will not let it take me. I will get to Wynter.
“That’s it, Reavely,” the voice croons. “Once you belong to me, you’ll never have to worry about the Reaper again.”
And the face I see sends a spear of ice into my heart.
“Lord Soulis.” The name drips from my lips with the drool I cannot stop.
Lord Soulis, the one Faerie I should have been watching when all I wanted to do was deal with Lord Guyzance. I see it all now, even with the wolfsbane in my system.
I have been played and my desire to break my curse has been my undoing. I failed to look to where the danger really lay.
With Lord Soulis and all who serve him.
“Sleep well, Reavely. We’ll talk when you have your senses and I have your mate.”
WYNTER
I’m not running. I’m definitely not running. I’m never running again, even from Reavely, even from a life which seems so cruelly offered then taken away.
And what’s worse is I hate myself for wanting somethingformyself. It’s like I’ve used up all my luck and now all that’s left is bad.
But still, when Reavely is distracted and I can’t stare at the fire anymore, I make my way up to the battlements. Maybe the air will clear my head, make things look somehow better.
Maybe I’ll be able to think of how it’s even possible to clear up this mess I’ve put myself in. All which keeps howling at me is that Ishould have asked more questions. But I didn’t because I wanted things to be easy.
Nothing about the Yeavering is easy. Not one single solitary thing and even more so for a non-magical being like me. At least the witches and warlocks who inhabit this place, the offspring of Faerie and humans—they have something, some magic, the ability to manipulate spells and defend themselves.
It’s no wonder humans don’t last long here.
I open the small wooden door at the top of the spiral staircase, and the wind whips past me. I lamber out into the morning air, and the coolness sends prickles over my skin. I’m not sure if I’m feeling better because of it, but I am at least thinking a little of something else.
