Crown of Fangs: A WhyChoose Romance (Throne of Wolves Book 3)

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Crown of Fangs: A WhyChoose Romance (Throne of Wolves Book 3) Page 5

by River Ramsey


  “Why?” he asks, frowning.

  “Because sometimes, even when they mean well, grownups do awful things,” I answer, holding back the tears. “And I’m going to do everything I can to stop it, but it… it might not be enough, and I don’t want you to be there, okay? Do you understand?”

  He hesitates, but he finally nods. “Okay, Dani.”

  “Promise me,” I say, squeezing his hand. “Promise me that you’re going to stay in your room and play with your toys until I get back, okay?”

  “I promise,” he says, leaning in to hug me. I hug him back and my heart feels a little lighter.

  Maybe Mace doesn’t view his own life as worth saving, but I have to try, if only for Aspen. He’s already been disappointed by the adults in his life so many times, and I can’t live with myself knowing I didn’t even try to prevent another.

  Twelve

  It doesn’t take long for the crowd to gather. I know they won’t let me speak to Mace, but I try anyway. He seems as calm and disaffected as ever, sitting far below the high-rise box seats the royal family occupies.

  “Are you alright?” Albien asks, walking over to me.

  “As well as I can be under the circumstances,” I murmur. “I saw Aspen before we came here.”

  “He doesn't know, does he?”

  “No, but I’m going to have to tell him the truth eventually. Just trying to figure out which version of it he’s ready for.”

  Sorrow fills Albien’s gaze. Even though I know he’s as set against Mace as the others, he at least feels empathy for what it’s putting the rest of us through.

  “I wish there was something I could do, Danica, I truly do. But the Pentarch…”

  “I know,” I say, taking his hand. “You tried everything, and I appreciate it.”

  He gives me a faint smile as Jenna comes over, nodding to us both. “Your Majesties, the executioner has announced that it’s about to begin.”

  “Wouldn’t want to keep death waiting,” I mutter bitterly.

  Jenna gives me a sympathetic look and leads Albien over to his chair.

  I can’t bring myself to sit down, leaning over the railing instead. I don’t want a bird’s eye view, but not being here feels so much worse.

  The crowd begins to cheer as the executioner takes his position in front of the podium, like he’s a rockstar and they’re all gathered to see their favorite band in concert, not the end of a man’s life. My stomach churns and I can’t bring myself to look at their faces.

  All my life, the Eternus wolves seemed so civilized. So genteel with all their fancy buildings and societies and schools. Now, I know the truth. We’re all the same underneath. All monsters in one way or another. It’s just a matter of choosing the side you can live with.

  Why did I ever think I could actually make a difference? Princess or lowly pack omega, it doesn’t matter. There are some things in this world that are set in stone and the bloodlust is one of them. Whether it’s out in the open on the battlefield or hidden behind the veil of civility and elegant gatherings, it’s all the same.

  We’re all the same.

  My heart aches deeply as I see Mace climb those stairs. It’s more than emotional pain. There’s something I’ve never felt before, like a cord winding its way around my heart, choking out my breath and making each beat pure torture.

  I grip the railing and watch as he’s led over to the block. The executioner has his blade in his hand and I know from experience that he never misses. My stomach churns and the whole world seems to shift around me as Mace kneels down. Even from a distance, I can tell there’s nothing in his eyes. No fear, no hope, no despair.

  He’s ready to meet his fate. As if he always knew it would come to this moment.

  The executioner raises his axe over his head and a piercing pain shoots through my chest. A bloodcurdling scream fills the air and it takes me a moment to realize it’s me.

  I collapse to my knees and my first thought as Rowan and the others rush toward me is that I’m sure they think this is part of some elaborate scheme. Like my plan all along was to imitate the worst pain in my life just to buy Mace a few minutes he doesn’t want.

  The truth is, I’m too blinded by the pain to see straight, let alone plan anything elaborate.

  “Danica!” Rowan cries, taking me into his strong arms. I can barely move, frozen like my body itself has become a prison of ice and stone.

  It’s all I can do to get the words out and even that makes the pain in my chest worse. “I can’t… I can’t breathe.”

  “Yes, you can,” James coaches, stroking my face. “Just slow. Deep breaths, through your nose.”

  I want to tell him it’s impossible, but my body seems to follow his instructions despite my disbelief. I manage to get some oxygen into my lungs, but it does nothing to ease the pain.

  It’s not as excruciating as it was a moment ago, but it’s still agonizing. My horror is quickly diverted to another subject when I feel the splash of warm blood trickling down the insides of my thighs.

  “The babies,” I choke. I know the moment James catches the scent of the blood, because his eyes go wild and he staggers back. He’s in control, but the unexpected still throws him. I would probably be embarrassed if I wasn’t so fucking scared.

  I can’t see what’s happening below, but I can only assume from the steady, frantic murmurs of the crowd that they haven’t had a murder to gawk at yet. Just the spectacle happening above them.

  “We’ve gotta get her to the infirmary,” says Rowan.

  “No,” James says quickly. “No… don’t move her.”

  His sense might be instinct or medical knowledge, but either way, it feels like the right one. Even being in Rowan’s arms takes energy I don’t have. Every movement, every breath, is painful. I can’t imagine him taking a step.

  “Get the doctor,” James calls. Jenna rushes out the door and I realize I’m holding James’ hand when the pressure of squeezing it starts to hurt. I can only imagine how it feels for him.

  “Deep breaths, baby,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

  I want to scream at him not to leave, but when Jenna returns with a panicked look on her face, I realize why. “What do you mean you can’t find him?” James snaps.

  “The nurse said he’s on an emergency call, but I can’t get ahold of him.”

  “Well, find him,” James snarls. It’s not like him to raise his voice, but he’s panicking and I’m sure the blood has him on edge. It’s flowing and I feel weaker than I ever have.

  “You!” Rowan bellows down over the balcony. “He’s a doctor. Bring him up here.”

  It takes me a second to process the fact that he means Mace. My heart leaps, despite the pressure on it. He’s still alive.

  And there’s a damn good chance he’s going to outlive me. The terror has me detached and I feel the strangest sense of laughter bubbling in my throat. Then, I realize I am laughing and the others are looking at me worriedly.

  I’m actually starting to feel so lightheaded that I think I’m going numb to the terror. Or maybe it’s just the fact that I feel like I’m floating above my body. Even the pain is far away now.

  There’s murmuring but it sounds slow and low and blurry. It makes me want to laugh, too, but my throat is too tight for anything. The sky is growing hazy but a familiar face obscures it. Cold blue eyes, filled with fear for the first time I can remember.

  Mace. He’s asking me something, but I can’t make it out. It sounds like he’s underwater. Or maybe I am.

  Floating…

  Drifting…

  Sinking…

  His hand presses against my cheek and all at once, the pain vanishes. In its place is the strangest, heaviest feeling. Like I’m made of lead and I’m sinking down, down, down to the bottom of the ocean.

  I wonder how deep it goes.

  Thirteen

  “Danica. Danica.”

  Mace’s voice echoes through the darkness.
I don’t know where I am, or how I got here. Remembering who I am is taking more of my energy than it should. When I stand, I’m not in any pain, but something doesn’t feel right. Like my body isn’t fully solid, and I’m half-floating nowhere in particular.

  “Where are you?” Where am I is probably the more pertinent question.

  “Follow the sound of my voice,” he urges.

  I can barely tell where it’s coming from at first, but if I close my eyes to listen, it’s a little better. “The babies… are they—?”

  “They’re alright, for the moment, but that’s going to depend on you,” he says.

  “I don’t understand. How are you here? Where are we?”

  “We’re in your mind,” he answers.

  I stop walking and feel the dread sinking in again. This must be a dream. It has to be. That, or he’s screwing with me. “What?”

  “I don’t have much time to explain, but we’re... connected. Apparently,” he mutters.

  “Connected? How do you mean?”

  “Danica, this is important. You need to follow my voice and don’t stop or look back, no matter what you do.”

  The command makes me immediately want to do just that but I managed to keep my focus up ahead. Not that I can see anything.

  “Trust me,” he says in a low voice that should make me do anything but. There’s something about it that soothes me, despite knowing better. Despite knowing that I can’t trust him.

  That used to be so easy to grasp. So obvious. Now…

  I keep walking and his voice draws closer. “That’s it. Keep going. You’re almost there.”

  When I finally see the outline of him, I want to run, but it feels like each step takes all I have. When I reach him, I fall into his arms like my body didn’t have anything left at all. He holds me, and when I look up into his eyes, they’re full of concern and urgency.

  “We have to get you back,” he murmurs.

  “Where?”

  “Awake.”

  Should be obvious, but there’s something about this place that feels off. I’ve never gone to a place like this in my dreams. Not even the bad ones.

  “How?” I ask, realizing that opening my eyes, something that should be simple, feels like an impossible goal to accomplish. I make the mistake of looking back where I came from and see a billowing black void rushing toward us.

  “What the hell is that?”

  “I said don’t look back,” he growls.

  My head snaps back and I stare at him, realizing it’s not just concern in his gaze. It’s fear.

  “Wake up, Danica. Hurry.”

  “I don’t know how!”

  “Yes, you do,” he says, holding my gaze. His eyes are hypnotic and soothing, but my heart still races. “When you were running in the woods from those vampires, your power came to the surface. You have to call it back. It’ll bring you home.”

  “I had no control over that!”

  “Yes, you did,” he insists, his grip on my arms tightening. “Go back to that place, Dani. Feel what you felt then.”

  I wonder just how long it’s been since he’s called me Dani. What a strange thought to have at a time like this.

  Then again, for all I know, this could be just another hallucination. I take a deep breath and try my hardest to ignore the roaring void in hot pursuit of us. Something shifts inside of me and I feel myself overwhelmed by the strange sense that I’m not alone. Unlike the leaves that devoured the vampires, it’s light that envelops us, soft and glowing.

  All the tension leaves my body and the darkness grows silent. I collapse and feel myself fall into a firm embrace as my eyes fly open.

  I’m still on the floor of the box seat above the arena, and Mace is standing over me, along with Rowan and James. I gasp, clinging to Mace’s chest. His strong arms are still holding me securely and his fingers in my hair team up with his ethereally intoxicating scent to lull me into a sense of calm.

  The pain is gone, and so is the awful lightheadedness, but when I look up at him for answers, his solemn expression tells me he’s just as confused as I am.

  “What happened?” I choke.

  Mace doesn’t answer. Instead, James speaks up, his voice slow and rough with both resignation and relief. “Mace saved your life.”

  Before I can speak, Albien steps up, looking over at the executioner who obviously followed Mace in the chaos. “Then by royal code, I’m permitted to offer him a pardon,” he says proudly, even though I can tell he’s close to hyperventilating.

  My eyes meet his and I mouth, “Thank you,” even though I feel like I’m going to pass out again.

  Another few seconds and I do. I’m not sure what the hell just happened, but I think I at least bought some more time to figure it all out.

  Fourteen

  When I wake up, I feel the comfort of a soft mattress and clean sheets around me, but the bed doesn’t have the reassuring scent of my lovers to tell me I’m in my own room. Opening my eyes feels like a chore, but when I finally manage, everything is white. The ceiling, the walls, the overhead fluorescent tube.

  I must be in the hospital wing of the castle. When I finally manage to lift my head, I see Rowan sitting across the room, propped up in a chair even though he’s asleep. I can’t help but smile, wondering how long he’s been there. I gasp when the memory of how I got here set in and my hand rests on my stomach.

  Rowan’s eyes fly open and he rushes over to me. “Hey,” he says in a soothing voice, stroking my hair. “It’s alright. You’re okay.”

  “The babies?” I choke.

  “They’re stable, for now. You had a lot of bleeding, but they got it under control,” he assures me.

  I sink back against the mattress, relieved and drained. There are so many questions dancing around in my head, so many answers I need to know how I feel. “Where’s Mace? Is he—?”

  “Pardoned,” Rowan answers flatly. It’s clear he doesn’t approve of this new development, but I can’t hide my relief. “As for what we’re going to do with him long-term, I’m not sure, but for the moment, we need him.”

  “Why?” I ask, unable to make sense of it. “I remember he came to me in my dream, but… was that real?”

  “Afraid so. It would be better if James explained it,” he says, rubbing the back of his head. “He’s explained it to me a few times already and I still don’t really get it.”

  “Alright,” I murmur. “Where is he?”

  “He’s out dealing with… something, but he’ll be back any time. You should try to get some more sleep.”

  I want to argue, but my eyelids seem to have other ideas. Before long, I drift off with Rowan stroking my hair, a soothing gesture that erases all the anxiety and uncertainty keeping me awake.

  When I next open my eyes, it’s to the sound of low voices murmuring. Not Rowan and James, but…

  “Christopher?”

  I sit up slowly, convinced the blurry image of him is my overactive imagination. When it settles and he looks solid enough, my heart leaps.

  “Hey,” he says softly, coming over to the bed, like he’s afraid to approach me. He reaches out but stops short of touching me. “How are you feeling?”

  “Confused,” I admit, looking between him and James. “What happened?”

  “We almost lost you,” James says, not looking me in the eye. “All of you.”

  I swallow hard. “That close, huh?”

  “If it wasn’t for Mace…” Christopher trails off and James clears his throat. I can tell this is already one of those tense subjects.

  “What did he do exactly?” I ask.

  “He used your bond to enter your mind and pull you out. You were... trapped, in a sense.”

  “Trapped?” I frown. “Where?”

  “In your subconscious. A prison created from magic,” Christopher answers darkly. “I’ve been researching it, trying to come up with a solution before it became a problem, but it looks like I wasn’t fast enough.”

  So th
at’s why he’s been gone. It probably shouldn’t make me feel better, but it does. “Wait… you’re saying it’s not because the babies are hybrids?”

  “It is,” James says, glancing at Christopher. “But the vampire-wolf hybrid isn’t the one causing this.”

  My eyes widen as I take in the meaning of his words and look back at Christopher. “The mage?”

  “Seems that way,” he answers, guarded as ever. “Unfortunately for you, the little tyke is more of a mage than either of us.”

  “What do you mean?” My heart beats faster. “You’re not saying the baby did this on purpose.”

  “No. Of course not,” says James. “But his energy is powerful, and it already has a mind of its own. It’s lashing out against the vampire energy of the other twin.”

  “How is that even possible? I can barely control my own abilities,” I protest.

  “Part of the research I’ve been doing has been related to your father,” says Christopher. “He was a very powerful mage. I believe you being part wolf suppressed your gifts, but between your natural gifts and my borrowed magic…”

  “How does Mace factor in?” I ask, feeling my head spinning.

  James and Christopher exchange a look. “You’re connected,” says Christopher. “We don’t fully understand how yet, but when he as about to be executed, your latent powers created some sort of empathic link. The baby’s energy must have sensed the threat to all of you and started lashing out.”

  It takes me a second to process what he’s saying. The world of magic is still so foreign to me, and it terrifies me to know my child is this powerful. It’s not just fear for my babies, but fear of what this world will do to them if it knows what they are. I press my hand to my stomach, reassured by the feeling of the faint fluttering movements. “How do we make sure it doesn’t happen again?”

  “For now, it means Mace is off limits to the Pentarch, at the very least.”

  “Do they know about the magic?” I ask fearfully.

  “No. As far as they know, Albien merely pardoned him for saving your life,” James answers. “Our goal is just to keep them in the dark until the babies are born.”

 

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