by Brea Viragh
Her trembling increased.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Calen soothed. He paused in reaching for her, his uncertainty of whether she would allow him clear, whether it was proper given the current shift in their circumstances. She saw the moment he made the decision, whatever it was, and put his arm around her shoulders. “Odessa...are you alone?”
How much worse would it be, if she were here alone? “No. There are others.” She cast her gaze toward the lake. Others ensnared. Like her. “We haven’t said much to each other that I can remember, but I know they are there. I guess there isn’t much to say yet. Not that I have many memories from the day.”
They came in bits and pieces, flashes of recollections of her time in the sun, seen through the swan’s eyes. There was nothing she could put into words that would make any sense to Calen.
“How have you not spoken to them? Is the man who brought you here, too?”
“Man...No, no man. No one but the birds.” Her brain shied away from the reality of her daylight hours, as though the memories were too much to deal with, her mind pushing them into a dark corner. Undecided whether to ever look at them.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you. It doesn’t matter. I found you.” Calen had taken great liberties in gathering her close, keeping her under the protection of his arm. Once he’d started touching her, it seemed he could not stop. “We’re going to get you home.”
“The others...” She trailed off. Her chin rested on his shoulder, eyes fluttering closed.
“You mean, the other prisoners?” Calen asked. He sighed when she nodded. “We’ll find a way to free them, too. But we need to get you out of here. You’re shivering. You were in the water too long.”
“Calen, I’m cursed.” Odessa tried to make him understand. Tried to show him how crazy the situation had become. There was no just getting out of here. No easy way to leave. She’d tried to run. Had thrown off the caring hands of the other prisoners and made a run for it, only to stop short in the woods. Nowhere to run, no supplies to keep her, and a home that would not welcome her if she happened to change in their midst. So she’d returned.
“I saw what happened to you. And trust me, I’ll find a way to free you.” His voice had hardened. “I won’t let you stay a swan forever.”
A swan. A beautiful creature of prey. The wolf was a natural predator, and the two were far enough apart to bring her shivering to a whole new level, teeth chattering. Cursed. She’d been cursed to spend her daylight hours as a creature so utterly defenseless, it had no way of protecting itself.
The wolf inside of her was gone. The moon held no pull overhead beyond a mark of her limited time. It floated amongst the stars, an ordinary orb of reflective light, and Odessa wanted to release the rest of her tears.
The first night when she shifted back to her current form, she hadn’t understood. She’d changed in the middle of the lake and nearly drowned when she’d sank down low beneath the water. The others flocked around her, more attuned to the nature of their similar curses. A blur of motion as feathers became skin, and the crackle of lightning still stung the air.
Ducks and geese. Cranes and, of course... The swan. She’d become the lone swan in their midst.
She had cried, then, after dragging herself to shore drenched and broken. She’d cried until the others rallied around her, men and women of differing ages and races, to place their hands on her shaking spine in an attempt to quiet her. Assure her that all would be well, although no one could tell her why.
Who were they? Where had they come from? What brought them to this place?
“It doesn’t matter,” Calen said, pulling her from her thoughts with a gentle tug on her hand. “Whatever they did to you, we will find a way to reverse it. I’ll make the bastards pay.”
“I’m not sure that you can.”
“Have I ever let you down? Have I ever given you my word and then failed to follow through?”
Slowly, she shook her head. “No, you never have.”
Not once in the decades since he’d come to live with them. She held that memory close, too, precious as it was. The one person in her life that, no matter what anyone said or what they thought of him, she knew he would be there for her to lean on. Calen would always be there if she needed an ear, or an excuse.
“Then trust me on this. Come on.” He took hold of her hand and linked their fingers together. The touch was unexpectedly sweet.
Had he ever held her hand like this before? No, of course he hadn’t, because it wasn’t allowed. Their friendship had remained secretive as it was.
“Where are we going?” Odessa asked as he brought her to her feet.
He spoke over his shoulder. “It doesn’t matter. Out of here.”
She dug her heels into the sand to keep him from moving forward. “You aren’t afraid of me?”
“What? Why would I be? I could never be afraid of you.” He turned to stare at her with impossibly large eyes, the moon’s light bringing out the deep hues of blue in their depths.
“But you saw me change. You saw me weak.” Her chin dropped. “I can’t go back to the pack like this. They’ll kill me.” A shiver shook her, and her stomach turned into a knot she would never release. “I tried to run. I did.”
The wolves she’d sworn to protect, was willing to marry for, would turn on her without hesitation. Her weakness would not be tolerated in the pack.
“I won’t let them,” Calen growled, his jaw clenched. “No one is going to hurt you.”
She tugged at the hand he held. “What are you going to do? You can’t stand up to my father. If he finds out what was done to me, he’ll have me executed. Or worse.”
She couldn’t imagine worse.
Alex had been ready to ship her off to the highest bidder. If she were no longer able to shift into wolf form, the deal might not go through now.
Calen averted his gaze. “I already told you. I won’t let that happen.”
“And there’s something else you aren’t telling me.” She slapped at him until he released her, feeling ridiculous with mud and algae clinging to her legs, her hair a rat’s nest down her back. Wearing nothing but his sweater. “I know you. What are you hiding?”
“It’s nothing. Drop it. We’re wasting time when we should be running,” Calen insisted. “Let’s get a move on.”
She didn’t want to tell him he’d left his shoes behind.
“Calen.” She used her strongest tone with him. One she reserved for underlings who thought to speak outside of their place. And despite the massive difference in their stature, she’d never used it on him. Until tonight. “Tell me.”
He stared at her for the longest time, searching her face, seeming to memorize her, until finally, he exhaled in a loud gust of air. “Your bridesmaids.”
“They aren’t here with me,” Odessa replied. “Only Jean.”
She’d seen Jean, hadn’t she? The first night, when they returned to human, and the flock had scattered on the lakeshore. Had she not recognized the familiar flash of red hair? They hadn’t spoken, however.
“I know. They were found at the edge of the manor property.”
The brief smile that curved her lips lasted only a second before dissipating at the expression on his face. “Calen, tell me. Please.”
“They were found skinned. The bodies were trapped in wolf form. And their hides were nailed to the trees.”
The bottom dropped out from under her. A black, yawning pit ready to swallow her whole. “But,” she began, then stopped.
Legs trembling, she sank again, palms slapping against the ground, trying desperately to hold herself together.
“No.”
Calen crouched in front of her. “I’m sorry, Dessa. This never should have happened.”
“Chelsea?”
“All of them.”
“No,” she said again. “Who would do something like that?”
“Whoever it was, I have a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t the first time. And we
aren’t going to let them get away with it again. Now take my hand. We’re leaving.”
It was a struggle to rise. To force her limbs to obey when they’d taken on the properties of lead.
“I’m still not sure how you managed to find me. I’m glad you did.”
“A little bit of magic, I have to think.”
He’d meant it as a joke, yet her blood turned to ice. She’d had quite her fill of magic, thank you.
THE MORE THEY WALKED, the more it felt to Odessa that gravity had gotten heavier. It pressed her feet down into the soft ground and left a trail behind them, forcing her to move slowly, her joints achy and her muscles sluggish and unresponsive.
She raised a hand to her head and noted the heat there. The thin line of sweat despite the cool night breeze.
“Calen,” she murmured, “I don’t feel well.”
Gaze flashing to hers, she read the concern there. The way his eyes traveled the length of her, noting the sweat and the paleness. The way her muscles tensed and quivered. “You need to eat something,” he said, seeming more for himself than for her. “You’ll feel much better with something in your belly. When was the last time you ate?”
His lemon tart seemed lightyears in the past. Had she eaten anything since that night? She couldn’t remember. Her memories of her daytime hours were a blur.
“It’s not the food.” Although she’d need that, too. At the thought, her stomach began to protest, twisting like a slick river animal in a net. “I need a break.”
Keeping her weight against the nearest tree, Odessa drew in a deep breath, held it in her lungs and tried to bring in the fortifying power of the moon. The way she’d always been able to do.
The emptiness inside of her turned into a yawning chasm when nothing happened.
An ordinary girl, standing in ordinary moonlight.
Calen stood by and stared down at her. Is this how he felt, she wondered, not being able to shift? Or was she putting pieces together that didn’t belong.
“We’re moving slowly,” he murmured, pushing at his hair. “At this rate, we risk whatever maniac did this to you coming back and finding you gone. We can’t take that risk. I’m not equipped to protect you from his kind of power.”
He wasn’t equipped to protect her from any kind of power. They both heard the words hanging between them, although he hadn’t been able to give them a voice.
She pushed away from the tree. Away from his concern.
“Do you...want me to give you a hand?”
A true offer, she knew, but it bristled against her. A sweater that became itchy and too tight. Or perhaps she’d caught a cold.
“You don’t have to carry me,” she insisted irritably. “I can do it. I just need a little break.”
A little more than a break. She couldn’t get her body to cooperate with her mind. The more she tried to push ahead, the harder it became to move. To breathe, to see, if the spots dancing in front of her vision were any indication.
“Hey, Dessa. Dessa!” Calen called, voice tinny and far away as she sank to the ground. “You’re gonna pass out if you’re not careful.”
And cold. She was cold. The chills crept up on her and her teeth began to chatter. “Okay, I’m not feeling well,” she admitted. Saying it out loud did not help the way she’d hoped.
It came upon her suddenly. Like someone had thrown a blanket over her head. Except this blanket had been made with odious things like thorns and thistles and frost. Things designed to pinch her skin and twist her insides into uncomfortable knots.
“What do you need?” Calen hovered over her with impossibly large eyes widened further in concern. He reached for her, unsure what to do, and retracted his arms moments later, fingers twitching. “What can I get for you?”
Odessa tried to open her mouth to answer when a sudden pain ripped her midsection. Crying out, she brought both hands to her stomach and held them there against the twist of agony. Dear God, what was happening to her?
When she said nothing, Calen swept her up in his arms anyway and began to walk. Each step in the opposite direction from where they’d come saw her symptoms worsen until it felt like she stood on the brink of death.
At least, that’s how it felt, having never been there before, she could only assume. Could only draw together fragments of thoughts like the sides of a cloak. Pulling them closer as she tried to make sense of the situation.
She wanted him to stop. To turn back the other way and let her drift off in peace. At least at the lake she hadn’t been in any pain.
The lake?
“We need to get you to a doctor immediately. Being trapped on the water has gotten you sick.”
The water...
“Once we get you well, we’ll find a way to break whatever spell has you trapped. I promise, Dessa, you won’t spend the rest of your life as a swan,” Calen continued. And in his voice, she recognized the threads of temper. Temper and fear for her, yes, but anger because he didn’t understand. When she dared to meet his eyes, she saw anger gleaming in those golden-brown depths.
A swan?
Distantly she recognized the flap of feathers. She lost her sense of direction. A doctor wouldn’t help her. No one could.
“Dessa, talk to me. Hey!” Calen had stopped, propping her against a tree trunk. His palms caressing her face and checking her pulse. “Don’t black out on me now. You have to keep your eyes open. Tell me what’s wrong.”
She couldn’t work her lips to form the words. Had no strength in her body to force the air through her lungs, out of her throat and voice box. The further they went, the worse it got.
Calen followed her gaze over his shoulder, once she roused enough power to cast her eyes back to the lake. Understanding finally flooded his own.
“Okay. Hold on.”
He hauled her up in his arms, bundled closer than before. No time to spare. Following her train of thought, as he’d always been able to do, without prompting.
It took too long for them to return to the lake. Too long to navigate the hours they’d already spent in darkness, racing back toward pack territory. Calen didn’t falter and he didn’t fail. He kept moving with a tenacity most hunters reserved for stalking their prey across great distances.
Through it all, he spoke to her, his tone low and soothing. “Hold on. Hold on.”
Hold on. She didn’t know how. She’d lost feeling in her arms and legs.
Hold.
Hold.
She began to shake, that terrible wet sense of suffocation drawing closer. The tree limbs pushed closer, the stars shooting down at her. The quiet...too much.
“Hold on,” Calen told her a second time. We’re almost there. Let me help you.”
Calen scrambled over tree limbs and roots in his attempt to get her back. Much later, with the sky beginning to lighten and the world around them quiet in the hush of predawn, the trees opened, and the lake came into view.
How could she tell him that she was drowning on dry land? Drowning because, in some small part of her, she recognized that being taken from the water had been the wrong decision.
Nothing came out of her mouth.
Then—
“Look!”
She roused herself at his exclamation to crack open an eye, nearly screaming when Calen plunged them both into the frigid waters.
The shock to her system would have sent her into overload. Instead, it became a balm, soothing those ragged nerves and bringing much-needed circulation throughout her body. Magic coursed through her system until she craned her neck back, breathing in deeply.
One minute, she’d been dying.
The next, those shards of her began to knit together again. None of the pain could touch her here, not when she dropped her head beneath the water, her hands flowing over her hair, her face.
And when she surfaced, Calen was there panting, his ragged exhalation like sobs.
“I’m fine,” Odessa reassured him. And meant it this time. “You can stop holding on to me wit
h your death grip.”
Calen released her like he’d been shocked. Although she continued to shake, so hard her bones might have splintered, she made herself hold still and look at him. Look at the devastation written across his face. And grief. And embarrassment.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that you couldn’t leave—”
“How could you have realized?” Odessa raised her arms over her head and let water sluice down her skin. At once, she felt better. One hundred percent, as though whatever ailment had taken her was gone in the snap of a finger.
Magic.
She hated the stuff. Now she realized why most Lycan packs had banned the use. It was harder for shifters to use magic. Though they had the capacity, it took too much out of them, often times requiring an outside source.
“What are we going to do?” Calen asked her slowly. He brought his arms around his midsection, and only then did she realize how he shivered.
She floated closer, pushing him toward the shore. A glance toward the tree line told her that dawn was not far off. All their walking, all their plans, for nothing.
“Now we have to figure a way out of this that doesn’t involve me leaving this place.”
“I refuse to go anywhere without you.” His mouth set in a hard line. “It took me days to find you. I won’t abandon you here.”
She glanced toward the sky and the sun that would soon make its ascent, feeling her core tighten in response. “You don’t have a choice. I seem to be tied to this lake. And if I leave it, I’ll die.”
Chapter 6
Death.
A permanent separation.
Calen sat on the shoreline and watched the moment the sun touched the lake, his eyes trained to the horizon line beyond the trees. The rest of the humans had returned. He saw them move through the shadows; their forms were indistinguishable from the fog rolling in over the water. None of them bothered to look in his direction, but he read their movements with keen accuracy. They’d given up hope—sloped shoulders, curved spines, heads focused on the earth.
