by Rebecca Main
There is only one relief to the onslaught, and it pulses faintly against the inside of Irina’s wrist. A mixture of a dozen emotions, all of which attempt to bring her comfort. But the soulmark bond lies out of reach as well and acts only as a mild balm to her pain. A whimper hums in Irina’s throat.
“No more.”
++
Irina | Present
Over a month ago, thoughts of copper would have brought to mind a burnt and muddied orange color. But having met William, these thoughts have changed.
The color of copper is brilliant and striking. It leaves an impression and holds a startling warmth to its depths—at least, that is what I tell myself as I stare into my vanity mirror.
Copper eyes, warm and bright, stare fervently back at me.
Hybrid eyes.
I let my fingers pass gently over the length of my cheek, now perfectly alabaster and as stately as a China doll. And cold as ice….
My ebony hair, still wet from my recent shower, soaks through the back of my silk robe, but some of the long strands fall forward to frame my face.
I sigh, stopping halfway as I realize the pointlessness of the action—a habit of the living, which I am most certainly not anymore. Still, I swallow and finish the brandish release of air.
My newly minted eyes dart to the clock in the mirror's reflection. It is half past one in the morning. After being released from my constraints more than two hours ago by Jax and Nova, I had been full of questions. They gave up answers quickly enough.
How Jakob fed me his blood in a moment of despair to save me from true death.
How for the past three days and nights, Nova, Ruby, Sebastian, and Jakob have all spared their blood to encourage my transition.
How William Douglas has given them all the information they needed to do so.
A little less than an hour ago, I requested Ruby bring William to our apartment suite. As the only other hybrid in existence, I want the rest of my questions answered straight from the source.
Is my diet strictly liquid now?
What happens during the full moon?
Where is my wolf?
This question, above all others, draws tears quickly to my eyes. My wolf is gone. Gone. No longer does its voice guide or cajole inside my head. No longer can its fierce energy pierce the barrier between us and alight in my eyes. And yet… it isn’t.
Although the wolf is absent from my mind, it is not entirely gone. The wolf remains inside me still, in a way I cannot comprehend. Out of reach and yet everywhere all at once.
A knock sounds on my bedroom door. About time.
“Come in.”
In walks William, stony-faced and unimpressed at my stoic figure at the vanity.
“So, you really are alive,” he says, his copper eyes taking me in. I wait till our eyes meet to arch a brow. A roguish grin quickly changes his intimidating expression. “Well, alive might not be the right word.”
“I have questions,” I say plainly and watch as his grin slowly fades. William crosses his tattooed arms over his chest.
“I had a feeling you would. But first, let me ask you one of my own. How do you feel, lass?”
I ponder the question a moment and find my forehead wrinkling. My lips press into a thin line. “Different. Not dead, not exactly. But not alive either. All the heat of life is gone.” I swallow with a flush of uncertainty, my eyes fretting sideways for a scant moment. “Not altogether myself, but more….”
William grunts, but gives a sure nod back to me. “Adjusting won’t be easy, but you’ll certainly have it easier than me.”
“Is my transition not worthy of some grand trial?”
“The Dark Court would love nothing more than to put you through the ringer, lass. But with the way things are playing out now….”
If I still had a pulse, it would switch to a canter. But now… now the world around me slows, as if time itself no longer has a hold on him or me or this conversation. It is disconcerting.
William takes a step closer, hardly closing the distance between us but at the very least breaking the odd spell of time. My fingers clamp onto the bridge of my nose while I take a moment to close my eyes. Disconcerting, indeed.
“Just how are things playing out?” I ask.
“In your household’s favor,” William says, walking across the room toward the large standing mirror in its corner. He tugs ruthlessly at the navy cravat about his neck. “Count Delacroix is making the most of all the chaos. After Adrian’s ashes were found—which is an entirely different matter—a tribunal was immediately called for by the courtiers.”
“Like the one Jakob had?”
Our copper eyes meet in the mirror. “Aye, lass. This one will certainly go down in history as well. The Thorburn Household faces charges of treason, conspiracy, and murder—”
“The entire household?” I interrupt, unable to keep my disbelief at bay. William faces me, his sparkling eyes answering my question. I suck in a sharp breath. “And if they’re found guilty, what then?”
“Then it would stand to reason the next longest-standing household would be promoted, so to speak.” At William's prolonged silence, I gape in understanding.
“Not us, surely? The Habsburgs should be next in line.” I turn my furrowed brow away, staring at my bed as my thoughts whirl around the new information.
“Now why would you think the Vrana Household wouldn’t get first rights to the seat?”
My sharp gaze shoots back to William. “First, the seat isn’t open yet. There’s nothing to say the Thorburns won’t find a way to come out of this unscathed. Second, the Vranas were absent from court for over a century. We’ve been back barely two months—”
“Yes, yes,” William huffs. “That might all be well and true, but there’s far more to it than you realize.”
“Perhaps, if you didn’t interrupt, I could finish my reasoning.”
William lets out a bark of laughter. “Pot calling the kettle black, isn’t it?” A rush of blood scours my cheeks, but only briefly. “As I was saying before, the Thorburn Household will be on trial, as will the Mubark Household for more or less the same charges.”
“And the Roux Household?”
“Only Briar Roux will stand trial for her household.”
My stomach clenches. “I thought her twin was to blame.”
“Her twin is dead. Somebody from the household was going to have to take responsibility for her actions, might as well be her sister,” William says, observing my reaction. I sit motionlessly.
“When will the trials begin?”
“Soon.”
“And you believe after they're finished, the Vrana Household will be offered the Thorburn’s seat as part of the Royal Household collection? Assuming they’re found guilty.”
“I do. So does the majority of the court. It's the biggest comeback story of the century. Think about it, lass, all these atrocious crimes were committed against your household and blamed on Jakob. He came back and was able to ferret out the real perpetrators. Although he got his vengeance, the court wants to see those left standing punished. And let’s not forget, the only reason any of us are here in the first place is thanks to the Vranas. Most find it a fitting end.”
“I doubt the court would be so keen on the idea once they find out what’s become of me,” I say.
William shrugs. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Your soulmark won't let any harm come to you.”
The room fills with silence as I narrow my eyes upon the large man. “How and when did you come by that piece of information?”
“It slipped out around the time your family was begging for my help,” he replies nonchalantly.
A sudden and terrifying rush of protectiveness rushes through me. “Begging?”
A low growl sits at the back of my throat as my gums begin to ache, my new canines desperately wanting to sink into the other hybrid. William’s eyes roll heavenward.
&nbs
p; “I helped, didn’t I? You’re here. A little appreciation wouldn’t hurt. A thank you.” My lips stay firmly shut, and the giant man lets out a sigh. “Fine. What questions do you have for me, lass?”
“Where’s my wolf?”
To his credit, William stands taller at my hoarse query. My hands, cradled in my lap, grasp on to one another with unusual strength.
“It’s hard to say,” William begins, his brows fall heavier over his eyes. “But I do have a theory.”
My nails creep into my flesh the longer it takes William to answer, my patience abruptly at its end. “Well, what is it?”
He takes a cautious step forward. “The wolf isn’t gone, lass. You can feel it, can’t you? In your blood. In your bones. In your marrow. The wolf is in every part of you.”
“But I can’t hear it anymore,” I say tersely.
“Can’t you? Just because it doesn’t have a voice, that doesn’t mean it still doesn’t guide your instincts. That doesn’t mean you still don’t have the fire of the wolf boiling inside of you. This, lass, this is how it once was,” William explains passionately, voice growing dark and full of thunder and lightning. His copper eyes glimmer in the soft lighting of my bedroom, their fever igniting my own.
“What do you mean? How what once was?”
“Us. Lycans,” he says. “Before the curse. This is how we were meant to be with our wolves. As one. Not as pieces pulled apart and stuck back together by some mangled curse.”
“But—”
“We’re not bound to the moon, you and I. Not anymore. If you wanted, you could release your wolf here. Now.”
“That’s impossible,” I whisper, feeling my focus and control ebb. I swallow harshly and sit straighter.
“Is it?” William steps closer, his eyes like embers. “We died, Irina. The curse wasn’t meant to hold us in death.”
His words turn my fragile world on its head. If I were still alive, my breath would have caught in my throat, my heart beating like a drum in my ear. Instead, the world narrows around me. The singular focus of my attention, William, goes blurry around the edges.
“It can’t be true.”
But even as I say the words, there is some kind of shifting in my bones, the predator inside of me waiting to be called forth without hesitation. My mind rings silent, but I can feel it. Feel the anticipation tingling through my sinew at the inclination to change. Here. Now.
By the gods....
“The full moon isn’t far off now. You’ll see for yourself soon enough, all I ask, lass, is that you don’t tell anyone.” My brow crinkles in confusion, but William sits on bended knee before me in the blink of an eye. His large hands cup my own as he leans in.
“Why?” I ask.
“They already fear us. We’re stronger and faster than an ordinary lycan or vampyré. If they knew we could turn at will… that we weren’t bound to the lycan curse any longer… I can’t say for certain what they would do to us. But it wouldn’t be good.”
“But what about—”
“Nobody, Irina,” William says and squeezes my hand. “Not your household. Not your soulmark. Not your pack or any other. We’re outnumbered, and the majority of the supernatural world thinks we shouldn’t even exist. Please,” he adds, his voice a rumble.
I nod reluctantly. “For now, William. I won’t say anything.”
“Good.” He stands, releasing my hands and takes a few steps away. “What else did you wish to know?”
“Can I be in the sun?”
He shakes his head, and a stone drops in my stomach. “I wouldn’t be too upset about it,” he rumbles. “If I remember correctly, you recently helped reclaim your household’s lost set of amethyst rings.”
“What about the blood?”
“What about it?”
I make a sound of annoyance in the back of my throat. “Is that all I can have now?”
He grins and shakes his head. “No, lass. You can have your meat. Just make sure it bleeds when you get it. You’ll not want anything other than that. I haven’t.”
“That’s a relief I suppose,” I mutter. William drops his grin slowly.
“You’ll do just fine,” he says gently. “You’ve got your household. They’ll keep you in check.”
I arch an elegant brow. “And you? Will you not help me in my transition as well?” A noncommittal grunt is my only answer, and yet it feels as if a string of connection winds itself around us. “Wonderful. I’m sure you’ll prove to be a wealth of knowledge.”
William levels me with a wry grin, then makes his way toward the door, pausing just before it. “You’ll need to keep your anger in check. You’ll find yourself more easily… upset than before.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
His cheek gives a twitch, and his copper eyes fill with camaraderie—a packmate found once more. “Until next time.”
++
How my hunger consumes me.
The gnawing ache in my stomach. The permanent itch at the back of my throat. The need to claw and tear into something—anything—so long as blood pours down my throat.
Instead of giving in to my desperate craving, I cross my arms over my chest and send Sebastian my iciest glare. Unmoved, he stares complacently back as he blocks me from the infamous “blood bar.”
“Move,” I command.
He does not. “No.”
“I’m hungry.”
Sebastian glances to the door, hoping for backup to arrive. I steal to the right in a blur of movement, but he easily blocks me. Exasperation chases away his desire for reinforcements, with a small pout accompanying his drawn brows.
“The first decade or so is the worst,” he concedes.
“I’m hungry, and I haven’t eaten anything since completing my transition,” I say, my voice moving into something closer to a growl by the time I finish. “If you don’t get out of my way, I’m going to rip off your head.”
“Doubtful,” Sebastian says. “I would gladly give you a drink, sister, but last I spoke with Jakob, he had other intentions for your first time.”
I screw my eyes shut in frustration, letting out an unladylike snarl. The hunger drives all rational thought from my mind, and upon opening my eyes, a new course of action wills me a calculated step forward. I don’t need to dine so formally from crystal decanters… not when a creature filled with blood stands right in front of me.
My vision bleeds into black and white, the muscles in my body constricting and contracting as I ready to attack. Sebastian narrows his eyes.
“Fascinating,” he remarks with deliberate softness. “Your eyes change as well when the hunger takes you, even in the hybrid state.”
His words strike out at my curiosity, and if my appetite was more manageable, I might succumb to it and ask what color they turned… but it’s too late for that now.
I don’t register my movements. One second I am jetting forward, nails shifting swiftly to claws and mouth opening wide, and the next I am crashing heels over head into the black leather couch. It groans and sways backward on its legs with the impact, balancing precariously on the invisible line of dignity before dipping back down into its rightful place.
The world slips back into color as I rub the back of my head.
“Ow!”
Sebastian levels me with a bewildered and slightly humorous expression. “You attacked me, sister.”
I sit up in a huff, retying my robe and flipping my hair over my shoulder. Sebastian still remains as a gatekeeper in front of the blood bar. “I’m hungry,” I whine piteously.
“Jakob should be back soon.”
I slump back into the soft leather, a hand rising to my stomach and neck in hopes of easing the ache. “What color do they turn?”
“Pure silver.” A flash of shivers sprints down my back and arms.
“Really?”
A smile begins to tilt Sebastian’s lips upward as his head ducks down a bit shyly. “Yes—�
��
The door to the apartment suite opens, and Jakob enters. Immediately my hunger is replaced by another. The door closes softly behind him as his eyes sweep the room to find me. He looks worn. Tired. And yet, there is the unmistakable aura of victory surrounding him as he strides further into the room. His wintery blue and silver eyes never leave mine.
“You’re awake,” he says, letting his eyes draw up and down my body. The soulmark throbs, and the incessant hunger draws up anew.
“I’m starving,” I correct, staying seated. Black and white strip the technicolor room of its bright pigments abruptly, and I find myself blinking back my hunger. Jakob holds out a hand.
“Come with me.”
I rise and glide toward him, and then I put my hand in his.
++
His bedroom is not what I imagined. A palate of light gray with electric blue and gold accents make up his modern room. It is a far cry from my own, dressed in Turkish blue damask wallpaper and opulent furniture trimmed in gold. I can’t stop my eyes from drifting back to the king-size, modern canopy bed that dominates the room. The platform base is larger than the mattress and provides a small ledge for one to sit upon or take as an extra step to reach the bed.
It brings to mind the tropical canopy beds in Bali or Indonesia.
A bed fit for a king.
“I apologize for not being with you this evening when you awoke. There have been several matters to attend to—”
“I know,” I interrupt smoothly, giving in to temptation and sitting on the platform's edge. “I’ve been kept up to date on the goings-on of things while I was… indisposed.”
“Have you?”
I nod. Then I spot the private stash of decanters filled with blood nestled in the far corner of his room, along with several wine bottles. As the world around me fades to monochrome, I usher my eyes closed. The painful yearning in my gums does not abate.
“Yes. Now, if we can just get to the part where you offer me a drink.”
My eyes open to a world still void of color, but Jakob does move to the bar caddy. My gums throb.
“I apologize for the wait,” he says, his voice low and cordial, with a hint of smoke. “You must be starving.”
