“The beast that attacked the village, did you send her to find me?” Vynasha ground out, bile coating her words. Grendall bowed his head and she wanted to beat his chest in fury, in terror. Had it only been a few days before when she’d begged him to escape with her? Had she not felt the stirring of feelings for him, the first person she’d given her trust, her love? Of all the many promises she had made in breaking the curse and accepting her destiny, the one thing keeping her from rushing off to find Wyll was him.
“I did not know how much sway I still had over them. They have not listened to me so well ever since you freed them. I do not understand why, but Soraya never said what would happen when you broke the curse.”
“I almost gave up everything for you…”
He bowed his head, apology unspoken in his face blazing bright as the sun now, and brushed his lips against hers. Once, she had secretly craved this, dreamed about it with a misplaced reverence. Now all his touch gave her was sickening panic. When she did not respond, his hand snaked through her hair, lifting her closer as he pressed his mouth to hers with insistence.
Still, some part of her body and mind betrayed her. Heat threatened to cloud her senses and her skin burned beneath his. She made her lips as stiff as she could, even as a part of her soared, as her body sang.
We belong together, was the first thought that betrayed her. Pleasure unlike anything she had known filled her while inside her mind she was breaking, screaming for help. Because Grendall was Soraya’s son, the true prince who’d made her love him, and she hated him in that moment with every fiber of her being.
When he broke his kiss for a gasp of air, she could see her face reflected in his irises, glowing violet. “I should curse you for making it impossible to send you away from me, Ashes.” He kissed her lips again, but this time she fought back.
The strange disconnect with her body clicked back into place and she pushed out of his embrace with all her strength. Grendall gaped at her in surprise and pain.
Her movement was still awkward and she staggered to her feet. “I am finished letting you control me, gatekeeper. Before we even met you manipulated my family and me, made me trust you. As far as I’m concerned, Soraya was right to curse you. And if you try to contact me through dreams again, I swear I will use every bit of power you gave me to destroy you.”
“Ashes.” He gasped, reached for her, but the floor between them expanded. The dancing lights around them buzzed and brightened until there was no more dungeon around them and no howling winds of fire. Grendall’s appearance took on that of the burnt corpse he was in the stark light.
Her voice echoed as she willed their surroundings to disappear, willed him to disappear as she said, “My name is Vynasha and we are finished.”
The light blinded her as she unleashed the rest of her pent-up energy.
Afterward a calm peace settled over her like a blanket of warmth and love. So much love she had never felt before in her life, only caught glimpses of it before.
Now the light faded and returned her to that sweet darkness she craved to rest in.
Let me go, she tried to say to the darkness. But a voice called to her, rough and male, urgent against her ear.
“—my mistake, Ashes. I never told you about finding Wyll with Resha or how after he shared what happened, where you went to for him. I almost went mad. I thought up ways I could go after you. That’s how I convinced the pack to enter the caves beneath the Silver Falls that day you were there. I knew something was wrong. I had to come after you, but then your beast came. We heard the tales, but no one has willingly gone to their territory in ages. It was evil, Ashes, and I swear I tried to fight my way to keep it from you, but it was no use.”
Ceddrych. Vynasha was still far away from herself, or at least not waking as quickly as she imagined. Her body was cold and still she clung to the sound of her brother’s voice, much as she longed to sleep.
“We lost two of our own trying to get you back. I thought you were good as—dead.” Ceddrych’s voice hitched and there was silence. And then she felt it, the squeeze of his calloused hand in hers. “The next time I swear the Silver River called to me. They tell us to stay away from it, but I knew I had to be there that day. And you were there, half frozen but still warm somehow and—changed. I knew the curse was trying to take you. I should have told you about it, explained instead of fearing the changes…”
His hand pressed against hers and the bed dipped in as he sat. Covers pulled against her feet.
“Ashes, can you hear me? Please wake up, lass, we’ve been waiting three days…” He paused. Again a sudden pressure in her hand, a gasp of breath before he continued. “I am so sorry, Ashes. This is all my fault. If I’d only listened instead of giving into fear. I thought the changes in you meant you would become like the beast that took you. I feared I couldn’t protect you. Maybe I’ve already lost you. I’m your brother and I should have loved you.”
Vynasha’s eyes opened with his words and all the exhaustion and lingering ache returned to her limbs. She knew majik had done this, like it had allowed her to escape Grendall’s hold over her mind. Love had called her back to her body, pulled her the rest of the way.
Ceddrych’s hair hung in his face and his shoulders shook with silent sobs as he held her hand to his face. She could feel his desperation and with effort, she pressed her fingertips to his palm. He froze, looked up. “Ashes?”
He was the only one who could ever call her Ashes, she decided then as she smiled. Before she could speak his name, he took hold of her, bent his head to rest against hers. His tears were replaced by laughter and a piece of the rip in her soul mended at the sound.
CEDDRYCH INSISTED ON spoon-feeding her once he was certain she was awake. “Ilya Iceveins made this stew, though I’m almost certain she drugged it.”
“Ilya?”
Ceddrych grinned at her, lightening the strained lines of his face. “Her son hates me, but Grandmother was the one who made sure I had everything I would need after I settled in the village. She’s a little mad and I don’t trust her, but she’s a good woman.”
“She is,” Vynasha agreed with a small smile and sank back into her feather pillow with a sigh. The guest bedroom was much cleaner than the last time she had been Ilya Iceveins’s patient, though she could still smell traces of her blood and fresh scars.
While she ate, she did her best not to laugh at Ceddrych’s measured movements. Between small bites, she asked, “Have you slept?”
His brow creased in a brief frown he chased away with a practiced grin, as though he hadn’t tried to rip out her throat three days ago. Had it already been three days?
“I have been by your side ever since Baalor insisted bringing you back here.” He paused, and she could tell he was trying to decide what and how much to say.
“Erythea?” she asked before she took her next bite of the slightly sweet broth. As Ceddrych had suspected, a fresh wave of warmth washed through her limbs with each bite.
Ceddrych clenched his jaw and looked down at the bowl in his hand. “The village is convinced she was dead before you brought her back. I won’t pretend it wasn’t majik. I may not like it, but whatever you did completely healed her and then almost killed you.” His gaze flickered up to meet hers.
A strange fear washed over her. “I don’t know what happened. Something snapped inside me when I saw her. Is she well?” She looked past him to the closed door and strained to listen for other sounds in the two-storied home. Stirrings in the floor below hinted at at least one other person.
“She’s been sleeping a lot, keeps trying to take over my watch of you when she isn’t telling me what a horrid brother I am.” He chuckled and rolled a shoulder, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he lifted another spoonful to her lips. “You made quite an impression on the girl. Not to mention the village is convinced you are the answer to some ancient prophecy now. And the mirror folk have been going on and on about the Phure returning, whatever that means.”
<
br /> Vynasha flinched as she swallowed and tried to ignore all Grendall had confessed to her, what she’d seen in the beast girl’s mind before death took her. “Ceddrych,” she began, then hesitated.
Ceddrych paused, shifted as though suddenly uncomfortable in his skin. She slipped a hand into his, careful of her claws.
“You were right about evil in the lost city, about the curse taking me. I never meant to let it happen, but in a way I chose it. I couldn’t let Thea die because of me. I won’t let him hurt any of you, no matter the cost.”
“Who is he? What are you saying?” All her brother’s false levity faded, the weight back in his roughly cut features. He had been handsome once, enough that every girl in Whistleande Valley had wanted him to ask for her hand. His laughter had come easily. Now it was rare and she hated to tell him about her time in the castle, the Prince and Grendall. Or that their mother might have been one of these Phure the mirror folk spoke of.
“There is much I haven’t said. I hoped by leaving I would be free from it all, but I’m beginning to believe I may never be free. Ceddrych, I went to the lost city to find a cure for Wyll’s sickness. He never was strong after the fire; you can see that. All I found was ruin and monsters. They made me a prisoner, but not like you would think. I was—pampered—coddled into something they wanted me to be. The people there are frozen, like ghosts that never died, they just fade over time. I started to care for them, trust them. I tried to escape and get back to Wyll, but then I chose to do something terrible for them.”
She didn’t know she was shaking until Ceddrych’s arm came around her shoulders, tucking her head into the crook of his neck.
“It’s not your fault, Ashes,” he said with insistence.
“It is my fault—the fire, what I let them do to me in the castle, our father.”
“No, don’t ever compare yourself to him,” Ceddrych growled and some of the wolf was in his voice as he continued, “Stop punishing yourself, Ashes. It was not your fault. If anyone is to blame, it’s me for leaving you when I did.”
Vynasha leaned into him, savoring the comfort. It had been so long since she’d truly let herself enjoy another person’s embrace. After Grendall…
Don’t think about him now.
“Ceddrych,” she said the same moment her gaze fell to her old tow sack, sitting atop the chest at the end of the bed. “Why is that here?” When he stiffened against her side she turned and looked up to find his jaw set, gaze fixed on the sack. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“We’ve both made choices to set this in motion. I made mine when I chose to love Resha.”
“The twins, did they tell Baalor?”
He nodded, pressed his fingers into her shoulder while his gaze brushed over the visible burn marks on her face. “What you did to Erythea has consequences.”
Grandmother’s potion was taking effect, relaxing her body when she desperately wanted to sit up and slap Ceddrych as she realized what he wouldn’t say. “No, you are not leaving me behind again,” she hissed.
“I might not be leaving at all if the Council has its way. They want to punish me for going behind their backs. I knew the risk when I first sought out Wolfsbane and his daughter. I wanted to talk to them, beg them to end the feud. I just wanted an end to the killing, had enough of it during the Southlands War.”
“Then let’s leave now, together, before something worse happens.” She tried to lift her legs, determined to take her sack, borrow whatever clothes were left in that trunk at the end of the bed and run.
Her brother pressed his arm against her shoulders and turned to face her. “Not this time, Ashes. We can’t run from this.”
“Of course we can! They don’t own us, Ceddrych.”
“They may not own us, but I know these people. They owe you a life debt for what you did for Erythea. She may be strange, but she is still an Iceveins and Baalor’s daughter. That means more than you realize. Now, listen, I can tell you where to find Wyll and maybe if Wolfsbane seeks you out you can finish what I tried to end.”
“Don’t talk about this like you won’t be here, Ceddrych. I can’t lose you or Wyll.” Her voice wavered. “I can’t bury anyone else.”
Ceddrych ran his hand over the bandages on her hands and took a steadying breath. “Ashes…” His reply was disrupted by the door opening and Erythea’s shriek.
“You’re awake!” The girl practically flew across the room in her rush to crawl onto the bed, her skinny arms squeezing warm against Vynasha’s neck. “I knew you couldn’t sleep forever! We were so worried, especially Father. He’s gone to Council but will be back soon.” Erythea sat back and crossed her legs, eyes bright and little mouth solemn. “I was so scared to fight the beast alone. My majik isn’t very good, but then you brought me back, I know you did. Grandmother says you’re the one from the prophecy, is it true?”
Vynasha looked over Erythea’s head to find Ceddrych staring at the open doorway. “I don’t know.” She looked down and pressed a hand to Erythea’s cheek and hoped her smile was reassuring. “All that matters is that you’re safe.”
“You kept your promise,” Thea said, softly.
Vynasha looked at Erythea, the girl who meant too much, who had almost died because of her, and couldn’t keep the emotions from filling her to the brim. “Don’t go fighting any more beasts without me,” she replied and then pulled Erythea into her arms. Closing her eyes, Vynasha listened to the steady thump of the girl’s heartbeat until she was certain this wasn’t another stolen dream. When she opened her eyes, Baalor was standing in the open doorway, watching them with an inscrutable look.
“You’re awake,” the pack master grunted.
Vynasha did not release Thea, though the girl twisted to look at her father and reply, “Father, she’s much better now. Can you ask her, please?”
Something in the wheedling plea and the instant tension radiating off the tall, confident Baalor put Vynasha on edge. “Ask me what?”
Baalor glanced over at Ceddrych and grimaced. “Not now, Thea.”
“What is this ruckus?” Ilya Iceveins pushed her son aside with a firm hand and surveyed the room before settling on Vynasha. “Shame on you pups for crowding my patient.”
Erythea bounced on the bed. “But Grandmother, she’s awake!”
Grandmother clucked her tongue and marched over to grab her granddaughter by the arm, tugging her off the bed. “I can see for myself she is awake, and clearly exhausted by the lot of you, pressing in on her like this. For shame, Wanderer, you might have followed my instructions a mite.”
Ceddrych lifted the bowl up as if to ward away Grandmother’s wagging finger. “I fed her soup.”
“Suppose you meant well,” she scoffed. “Bring that downstairs and I shall fill up a portion for you, little Wolv. Do not think I haven’t noticed you skipping meals, as though you were naught but skin and bones three days ago.” With her free hand, Ilya took hold of Ceddrych’s arm and dragged the two with her past Baalor. She pushed them both toward the stairwell and then turned back to appraise her son, before smiling at Vynasha. “Make certain you get plenty of rest, dear creature. If this one bothers you, just call my name and he shall answer to me.”
Baalor chuckled. “What are you going to do to me, old woman? Ow!” He flinched as she cuffed the back of his head.
“Hold your tongue, boy. Remember who ran this village before you led the pack.”
“Yes, Mother.” He rubbed his head and shook his head as Ilya left the room with a wink and mysterious smile.
Vynasha didn’t know if she was more relieved now that she was alone with Baalor. Her body was still sluggish, thanks to Grandmother’s brew, but her mind was alert and sensed whatever was said next could mean everything.
Baalor shut the door and then turned to look about the bedroom, anywhere but her. He cleared his throat and the uncertainty in his furrowed brow was so opposite his usual ferocity Vynasha couldn’t help but laugh. His green eyes flickered up to hers and h
e crossed his arms over his muscled chest, shirt straining against his thick arms.
“What?”
She smiled. “It’s a refreshing change, making you uncomfortable.”
He looked to the chair set by the bedside table and motioned with a hand. “May I?”
“It is your home.”
The skin-changer watched her through pale lashes and she recalled his other skin, how he could be both beautiful and dangerous. Rather than finding that unpredictable side of his nature something to fear, the beast in her found kinship with him. She liked Baalor, much to her horror.
For a long stretch of silence, he stared at his upturned hands, and when he finally spoke his voice was rough. “I don’t know who or what you are, Vynasha. I don’t know where you hail from or why you came here. All I know—all that matters—is my daughter was dead and you brought her back to life.”
“I didn’t—I don’t know what I did.” Vynasha twisted her fingers in her loose curls and winced at the pain in her scalp as she tugged.
Baalor turned at her wince and then took her hand in his as he rested his elbows on the edge of the bed. Hunched over, he was still a massive man, his white hair tied back from his face for now, his beard fuller than a few days growth. She didn’t even notice the scar dividing his features anymore. His eyes were such a clear green, a color Vynasha dreamed about but had only truly seen in books and dyes from the village, and the raw emotion in them made her pulse skip a beat.
“My wife was a talented witch, you know. After her death, I wanted nothing to do with majik. It has only ever brought my family and people misery.”
She pressed her sharp teeth to her upper lip, remembered the twins’ declaration about Wolfsbane’s hand in the witch’s death. “I’m sorry.”
Baalor blinked and lifted his brow in confusion. “You are not evil, Vynasha. I may have been a blind fool, but I knew you would do me good from the moment Thea brought you home. I focused too long on the wrong enemy. I forgot the evil we should have been fighting all along. I want you with me in that fight. I need you with us.”
Scarred Beauty Page 15
