"Council, do you really not remember her?" Griffin speaks up, interrupting the banter of the others. "It was only a few years ago that you considered her as a Candidate."
All movement stops in the room, even time seeming to halt.
"Surely... you don't mean that she is the one that died under your care," Gizelda boomed.
"Yes, I was assigned to her. I was there when she died in a car crash. However, I was also there when she came back to life, with eyes of bright green, crying about a dark creature that turned her father's eyes red."
I am frozen to the spot. This is a pretty fanciful tale, though a shamefully convincing one, that he is spinning.
Cyrus pounds his hands on the table as he rises to his feet in indignation. "You can't possibly tell us this now when over ten years ago you told us she was dead. You are lying to us."
"I am not lying! As your oldest and faithful son, I am not lying to you. What I speak is utter truth. Ella is the only living Candidate for the prophecy, and if you terminate her and the pack, we will all be condemned as fools for the rest of eternity."
Shock ripples through me as I realize he was the son that wasn't suitable to be the successor to the throne. All because he's a crossbreed.
"WHY did you lie to us, Griffin?" Ulysses thunders.
"Well, at the time, I thought that she deserved a life without us watching her every move. I observed that she had suffered great trauma at the hands of the Shifters, and you know that the Candidacy is affected by the Candidate's mental health. I thought our presence as well as the trauma of losing her parents would affect her for the worse. What if she caught me morphing one day? We couldn't hide from her forever. By that time I had already had some close calls. However, the most important reason why I had the courage to leave her at the orphanage and travel back to Headquarters was that I believed if she was truly the Candidate, she would somehow find her way back to us. And I was right."
"Son, I did not raise you to so blatantly lie like this," Cyrus says angrily.
"I am not lying," Griffin responds, just as frustrated.
"Griffin, either you are lying to us now, or you lied to us then. Either way that is a disgraceful act that we do not condone. However, if you are lying now, the consequences will be far worse. I must have your absolute assurance that you believe this to be true," Markus says calmly.
"I am not lying," Griffin states with such conviction that I would have believed him if he said that the world was made of marshmallows and lollipops.
"We will take your words into account," Gizelda responds, looking down at her paper. "However, we will need proof before we can be certain that Ella is a Candidate."
"Griffin, is one of the marks on Ella yours?" Ferrars asked him. Griffin's cool demeanor all but evaporates in seconds.
"Yes, I left a mark on her right before we parted ways," he replies slowly. Gizelda raises her eyebrows.
I cast a glance over at Nico to see how he is taking this. He is literally shaking with anger, and the others are looking at him with curiosity. Asher catches my eye and shrugs.
"Which all but elevates our need to gather more evidence in order to accept this as truth," Gizelda says, "We still have not seen any of Ella's abilities as of yet-"
Suddenly everyone's nose perks up. I watch in confusion as several of the guards begin to morph. Griffin grabs my arm. "Stay by me," he whispers, "I'll protect you."
"No, I'll protect you," Nico shows up by my side. "Get lost, crossbreed," he scathingly insults Griffin.
"Be nice," I elbow him in the side, "he may have gotten us out of being killed." No matter how much I am entertained by his jealousy, I feel like Griffin will be hurt if I don't say anything.
Both of them squeeze my arm. "Would either of you tell me what is going on?"
"No other way to describe it except that it smells like puke mixed in with blood and terror in here," Griffin wrinkles his nose, "yeah, pretty sure it’s a Shifter attack."
"I didn't know terror had a smell." If I wrinkle my nose enough, I can smell the hint of pure nastiness.
"Well it does. And it’s getting closer," he replies, "seems like an insane number of them too."
“How did they get in?” Markus exclaims, “we have impenetrable walls around the Headquarters!” Of course, no one answers.
All of the werewolves are looking around anxiously. "Call a Spier!" Gizelda orders. Within seconds, three or four march in. All of them look like normal human beings, none particularly pretty or ugly.
Then the fear sets in.
Claws of icy coldness dig into my chest, chilling me to the bone. I can barely think as the fear chokes me, squeezing all the life out of my body. Griffin and Nico's presence don't help at all... all I can feel is the sorrow, hurt and pain.
Then everything is black. To me, everything is dark and gloomy. I see glimpses of the empty forests, the lonesome castles, the large oceans, and everything begins to make sense. No wonder the world is empty.
They are all coming here.
The lights flash again as I see them—big and small, skinny and large—coming by the thousands into the room. I can't breathe as they crowd the floor and walls, stuffing the room with their dark energy.
"I should have known this was going to happen," I whisper softly.
"How, Ella, how?" Nico asks, rubbing my hand. I saw the signs. I have no excuse. And now we are all going to die here. "How many are there, Ella?"
"Too many to count," I choke, "they are everywhere... their red eyes are all staring at me." I feel dizzy, and almost faint into Nico's arms. I cannot take their red eyes.
Gizelda looks at me, and I can feel her desperate gaze. The Shifters are vanishing into trees and fountains, making the water turn to lava and the leaves into burning coal.
The Spiers step forward and begin murmuring strange chants. To my amazed eyes, enormous spears are formed, which they then throw with incredible accuracy through dozens of Shifters. As the spear stab each one they disappear, simply ceasing to exist. However, so many more are taking their place that they seem impossible to fight all at once.
"Ella, move!" Griffin pushes me out of the way as a mass of burning, tangled vines fall where I used to stand. For some reason, the raining vines and leaves remind me of the hail that beat upon me on the day I tried to commit suicide. How can the werewolves fight against something like this? They can only kill the host of the Shifter, and if the Shifter chooses not to take a host until it is in a position that makes it impossible to kill, then there is no way to defeat them.
Maybe I have looking at this from the wrong angle this entire time. I have always thought, kill the Shifters. Create a spear, so you can kill the Shifters. It is all I have been told by the werewolves, and maybe for them there really is no other way. But I am different. An oddity. I mean, look at my crazy ability to basically extract the Shifter from the host.
I guess the real dilemma I should consider is that if I am able to heal the possessed, how would I heal the possessor from itself?
My whole line of thought snaps as I suddenly just get it. Understanding flows through my entire being... from where, I have no clue. Without a word I break away from Griffin and Nico, both of them yelling after me in alarm.
I travel up to the platform, where the High Ones are standing. "Please," I say once, and all five of them step off the platform. I am amazed at the power and authority laced within my voice.
I climb onto the chair, and from there onto the table. It is from this vantage point that I can see them all, thousands surrounding me. I can feel their emotions of fear and hurt, of confusion and terror. It threatens to swallow me whole, for it resembles the same pain that I have been shouldering all my life.
I am not like them. I do not only consist of pain and hurt, or even the desire for revenge. I am more.
I am different.
I start to open myself to the lost souls, projecting emotions of joy and hope upon them. I can see them shrink back in retaliation... just like I wo
uld in their position. I start to see myself in every one of them. How can I possibly heal these broken souls when I am not fully mended myself?
I start to think of the warmth within my heart, letting memories overwhelm me. Faces start to appear before me... my mother, father... and a familiar werewolf with bright blue hair. A bright emotion starts to leave me, an emotion that overpowers everything else. I smile in excitement. This is what the Shifters need. Love.
My emotions form wisps of air, which all come together to form a shape. Even I don't know what it looks like because of its enormity. But I can feel it. I can sense the warmness surrounding me, filling the room with energy and light.
The Shifters stare it the shape, their red eyes boring into the light with its darkness. After a second, they all begin to enter the shape, boarding it as if they were all in line to enter a cruise and embark on a magical journey.
Amazement still overwhelms me as every last one of the Shifters enter the shape. I can feel it tugging at me, and I let go hesitantly. The shape sails away, and as it does I can see that it truly does resemble a boat, flying through the sky as if it is the ocean. It takes a few seconds after the boat disappears for me to realize what I had done.
I stumble off the table, completely drained. As I fall, I murmur, "I sent them, I sent them..."
Out of the darkness, I hear someone ask, "where did you send them?"
I answer with a weak smile on my face. "I sent them home."
What. The. Crap.
My eyes open slowly, painfully, as if the movement itself hurts me. But it is the reality of life that I really wish to avoid.
The first thing I catch sight of after a moment of dizziness is a man with dark black hair. He is gazing at me warmly, smiling as I start to cough and sit up. "There there," he pats my hand softly, "not too fast."
"Who are you?" I ask him in the middle of my coughs.
He just looks at me, putting a large hand underneath my head. Gently he presses a switch, and the bed tilts into a sitting position. "I am Legarius," he answers me while reaching for a small cup of water. "Are you thirsty?"
My mind flashes back to the first night that I met Nico, who had murmured the same words. Pain and loss strike as I search through the meager memories, trying to salvage the remnants of beauty that are left.
"Where's Nico?" I ask him urgently, my heartbeat skyrocketing. Horror races through me at the recollection of the Council's words the day before. What if the entire pack is dead right now? What will I do with my shameful self?
"He is perfectly fine right now," Legarius replies as I grab his arm with a ferocity that surprises even me. "Who you should be worried about right now is yourself. Do you feel better?"
Do I? I hesitantly release Legarius's wrist and reach towards my own head. A terrible pain sweeps through me, and I groan. "It's like a migraine," I mutter, ripping my hand away. I don't need to be sick right now. I need to be helping my friends.
"It's okay though," I try to protest as Legarius reaches for a bottle of pills. "I really just need to see my pack. Please."
"Take this, and you can go see them as soon as you wake up," he assures me, holding the small yellow pill before my eyes. I look at it warily, as if it is an enemy.
"You promise?" I ask him as I take the pill and hold it in my hand. He nods, and I lift it to my lips slowly. Trying not to think about it, I hasten to throw it in my mouth, trying to swallow as quickly as possible. It barely hits my stomach before I start to notice the effects.
"Easy, princess," he laughs as I begin to see red, thrashing around like a bull in a china shop. Everything becomes dizzy again, and I moan.
"What kind of pill is this?" I berate him angrily. It is like fire in my insides, intensifying my migraine extremely. I soon find it hard to move, like I am frozen in place. He just continues to laugh as the sleepiness takes over, my eyelids slipping. I am barely conscious within seconds. I slip off into dreamland, vowing to kill Legarius as I go.
* * *
"She asked for me. Let me have a minute with her alone," a low voice argues.
"I don't know if we can let you do that. The Council never said anything about her meeting with her pack. You will have to have a consultation with them first. Just because she is off the hook doesn't mean you are."
"You heard it as plain and clear as I did. The Council gave her the power to do whatever she wants, except when she is ordered by one them. If she wants to meet with me, she can."
"I don't like this."
"You don't have to."
My eyes slip open for the second time, directed towards the source of the bickering. In the corner of my vision I spot Griffin and Nico by the door of the hospital-like room I inhabit. They don't seem to notice me at all, arguing back and forth bitterly. Legarius is nowhere to be seen, luckily for him.
As I touch my head, I notice that the headache is gone entirely. That awful pill actually worked.
"She's awake." Nico turns towards me, and I nearly faint at the sight. I didn't realize how much I have missed him. Griffin just looks at me angrily.
"You want to meet with him?" He asks, casting a glance with Nico. "Surely you were just speaking out of delirium."
I sit up again, trying to figure out how to deal with this situation. Yes, I want to meet with Nico. However, I don't want to make Griffin too mad. He saved my life, after all.
"I feel really tired," I lament, lying through my teeth, "but this hospital bed is so hard and uncomfortable."
"I'll take you to your room," Nico says gently, coming over to my side. Griffin glares at him. "Don't you have a meeting to go to?" Nico asks laughingly as Griffin increasingly acts like a dog ready to bite off someone's head.
"Yes, I do, actually. But I'm not leaving until I know Ella is going to be safe while I'm gone."
I reach to touch Griffin's arm. "I'll be safe. Trust me."
Still looking annoyed, he backs away, knowing he can't do much else. He can't bring me with him, after all.
"Don't hurt her," he snaps to Nico and retreats through the open doorway. A little laugh escapes me as he angrily walks away.
Nico walks up to me, scooping me into his arms. The warmth of his chest envelopes me, and I drink in the wonderful scent he possesses. Without a word passing between us, he carries me through the empty hallways.
When we finally reach the room I have stayed in, he crosses over to my bed and lays me down. He expectantly looks at me, and I look back, puzzled.
"Aren't you going to go to sleep?" He asks me impatiently, and I laugh.
"I only said that to get Griffin to stop nagging," I grin widely. Nico groans, staring at me furiously.
"Ella, you make this so hard on me." His voice sounds strained as he looks away. "Just go to sleep like you said you would."
A few seconds of silence pass while I try to figure out what's wrong with him. He looks as if he is trying to restrain himself. Trying to force himself to be cold to me. His beautiful face is bent in concentration, then reducing to a stoic expression. Alarm enters my body.
He turns to go, and subconsciously I reach to grab his hand. "Please... please don't leave," I beg him.
He freezes, shivers running through both of our bodies. "Ella!" He nearly shouts in agitation, then rips away from me and almost runs to the door. He shuts it hastily, clicking the lock as well. Nervousness erupts within me as I survey his handsome form. I have never seen him look or act like this before.
He crosses back over to me, scanning my face, my body. I begin to feel even more nervous and self-conscious as I realize that not only am I clothed in a flimsy, see-through hospital gown over a tank top and shorts, but that we are totally alone. I am suddenly even more aware of him, of his attractiveness. Butterflies flutter in my stomach.
He leans over me, and my anticipation mounts. Without a word he reaches forward and takes the sleeve of the gown in his hand, ripping it off in one fluid motion. I am so scared of him right now, but at the same time, I feel heart-wrenching
desire. What is wrong with me? Have I caught another cold?
Is this the desire to "bond" that I heard the werewolves talk about? For it is consuming my every thought, my every wish.
I begin to grow delirious with need as he climbs onto the bed next to me, fingering the frayed edges of the gown at the top of my shoulders. His mischievous fingers dance onto my shoulder, sending sparks of heat through my body. He touches my fading bruise, anger and an unfathomable emotion in his gaze. "Did he touch you here?" He asks, sounding even more strangled than before. It takes me a second to register what he asked.
I hesitantly nod, remembering the way Griffin kissed my arm with a guilty conscience. He tries to control himself, but loses it altogether. I stare at him as his eyes grow diluted, and then back to their normal size.
I look with wonder and confusion as he tilts his head towards my arm. An uncontainable delight consumes me as his soft lips brush against my bruise, then down my arm. How can he make me feel this way? There is no way to describe the hunger that enters me at this moment, lust arising like a tidal wave.
He rips off my other sleeve, then looks at me. I lose myself within his bright eyes, drunk on the pleasure I am now experiencing. "Did he touch you... here?" He lets one finger linger on my other arm. I nod quickly, urgently.
His kisses deepen as they cover my slender arm, and his breath begins to get even more agitated. A growl rumbles in his throat, almost like a wolf, and he holds the neck of my hospital gown and rips it. He flings it off me as if it nothing, and then his breath catches as he surveys me. "You are so beautiful," he whispers, and I am speechless. This tenderness is so intoxicating that I nearly drown within it.
His attention immediately snaps to my mating mark by my neck, and his head dips towards it. A small cry escapes me as he kisses the mark, which starts to glow and send waves of pleasure through my form.
Nightly Howls Page 29
