by Alice Wilde
No, in absolutely no way is this better, for her or us. Even I, as much as I love the company of women, wouldn’t take a woman without her wanting me, and especially not one who didn’t have the ability to say otherwise.
Annalise is in bed now, and I feel the pang of loss once again. As selfish as the thought might be, I want her beside me in the bed we shared once before. To hold her, to feel the small breaths of sleep against my fur. I try to climb up next to her, knowing full well I won’t be able to fit. I growl low as Roan tries the same thing, but know it was a foolhardy attempt on both our parts. Stepping down, I find a spot as close to the bed as possible and lay my head down next to her. Roan does the same on the opposite side of the bed.
“What are we supposed to do now?” I say to no one in particular.
“Nothing. The lass has to fight this battle on her own. We can only try to show her she’s not in it alone,” says Roan.
“Damn it. No matter what we do, we can’t win. We bond with her, Damien grows more powerful. We don’t bond with her, Damien traps her mind. Either way, he’ll take her, he’ll grow more powerful.”
“Ero?”
“What?”
“How do we know what happens if we bond with her? We’ve never felt drawn to the other women. We’ve never felt the desire to bond before. Damien has told us time and again to allow the bond to grow, but that’s only made us try to resist it.”
“What are you saying, Roan?” Li asks, almost instantaneously appearing beside us.
“Just think about it,” Roan continues. “Damien has literally beaten it into us since the day we were cursed. We’re supposed to bond with the chosen female for the magic to work, for him to be able to draw from it, but we’ve only ever felt drawn to Annalise. We know that Damien can feel, or at least sense, what we feel toward the royals he entraps, but our lack of bond has never stopped Damien from hurting the others.”
Li growls in thought.
“So, what if it was a ploy?” Roan says. “He’s been training us for this moment since the beginning. Telling us to bond, to form a connection so that we do our best to fight it. There is a bond between us whether or not we want there to be, but we haven’t allowed it to grow beyond what we can manage. Not yet.”
“You’re saying…you think that by not bonding, we might actually be playing into the curse?” I ask.
“It’s just a thought,” Roan goes on. “Damien is going to take her either way, and the fact that we’ve been fighting the bond doesn’t seem to irk him. If anything, perhaps whatever bond he does feel between us may be why he’s been so insistent about the wedding happening sooner. He hasn’t cared this much in the past. We know he has enough magic in him to keep the king alive for as long as needed.”
“Cao. You might be right,” Li curses to himself.
“Li, you’re the only one who can choose to let the bond form,” Roan insists. “I might be wrong about this. I know it’s not fair, but you have to make the choice. We don’t have much time.”
Damn, Roan. As much as I like him, sometimes I think his imagination and lighthearted nature screw with his mind. He’s just made this whole situation even more complicated than it already is.
Li
I don’t know what to think anymore. Roan might be right, but he could be very wrong. I know Damien is a manipulator, but that’s just what’s so dangerous about the whole situation. You never know what’s real and what’s a game. We could be playing into his whole scheme, or we could be saving her as best we know how.
I'm not even sure how much longer we have anymore. I’m not even sure if Annalise is herself anymore…but I can’t shake the feeling that she is. There’s something about her eyes. There’s a faint light still there, fighting. Maybe I just want to believe she is. I promised I’d protect her, I promised I’d keep her safe…and I’ve failed. I feel sick.
I bound away to a window and lean as far into the night air as I can. I’d jump, ending the misery once and for all if I wasn’t too big to fit through the opening, and if I knew for certain Annalise wasn’t still here.
The cool evening breeze is sweet. A bittersweet reminder of the freedom we’ve all lost. I can’t make a decision like this. I have to have a sign. If only I could pray to my ancestors for guidance, but I'm certain they’re too far away to hear. I don’t even have incense to carry my prayers between worlds. Perhaps this is my punishment for how I’ve used my life or my past lives. Or, maybe this is a chance at redemption.
I fall back onto the floor and pace. However much it may annoy the others, it’s the only way I can think.
Ancestors, if you can hear me. Send me a sign.
Roan
Her breathing is soft, but I can sense there’s more to it than sleep. I’m not sure what. I’m afraid it’s my own heart playing tricks on me, but I just can’t get rid of the feeling that she’s not sleeping. I’ve been trying to figure it out for over an hour now. Li’s pacing is bothering the hell out of me, but I’ve chosen to ignore it.
Ero won’t stop purring. Does he never stop wanting to mate? All right, to be fair, I’m pretty sure Annalise has that effect on all of us, but at least I can mostly push that out of my head when things are this serious.
I focus harder, but his purring is getting in the way of my hearing.
“Saints, Ero,” I finally snap. “Can you please, for the love of god, stop purring for just a second?”
“I would,” Ero retorts, “if I was the one purring in the first place, you idiot. You’re the one purring.”
“I’m not…”
I glance over and we exchange a look of bewilderment.
We’re up and leaning over Annalise before we can say another word. Nearly crushing the bed in the process.
“It’s Annalise,” we say in unison.
“Li,” I say, but he continues pacing, lost in thought.
“Li!” Ero and I roar.
Li turns to look and is up between us the next moment, searching Annalise with his eyes.
“What happened?” Li asks.
“Nothing, listen.”
The purring, ever so quiet, is still there. But it’s not purring. I don’t know how I didn’t notice the difference before. It’s not the guttural mating sound that comes from us when we make it, but a velvety, feminine growl. And it’s growing stronger. She’s still with us. She’s fighting…and now we must fight too.
Twenty-Eight
Annalise
I know my body is asleep; my eyes have long since closed. The physical exhaustion overpowering my mental strength. It’s odd, the detachment I feel from body in this moment. It’s almost as if I am part of two beings. The physical me and the inner me. Neither truly one without the other, but both present. Surviving.
I can hear my leopards’ low grumbles beside me, almost as if they were talking to each other. There’s the soft pad of feet moving back and forth across the room as well. Probably Li, since he’s the only one who maintains a relatively constant distance from me. There has to be some way out of this. I never believed in magic before, but these past few days have proven me wrong. If curses are real, then there must be ways to break them as well.
I try to focus my mind, willing my body to move. But I can’t even manage the twitch of a finger. I scream inside with anger and despair, and then pause.
I scream again. And I hear it. My body is reacting. There’s no logic to it. I can’t rationally make sense of it, but I continue to scream, channeling every ounce of me into it.
My body begins to hum with the vibrations and I feel my mind begin to clear, the outward sounds are familiar, but I can’t quite put my finger on it. Literally or figuratively. The mists in my mind don’t go away, but they slither away to the very edges of my consciousness. Tremors rippling through my body. I still can’t move, but it’s something.
It’s not giving up.
I’m not sure when I finally gave in to sleep, but I couldn’t fight it off forever. I wake, terrified that I’ve lost myself
, but as the world comes into focus, I breathe an inner sigh of relief, which I quickly regret as my consciousness recognizes what I’m seeing. I’m looking in a mirror, Miriam standing behind me as she slips a dress up and over my naked body. A deep red dress.
My wedding day.
How could I have forgotten? Even for an instant. Even while my mind was still at rest, my body was treacherously betraying me in its preparations for marriage. Today is my last chance, and I am certainly not going to face it calmly. Not if I can help it.
The dress gleams in the light, the material clinging to my form like a waterfall of blood. Yes. That’s exactly what this dress represents. Blood. Today will be one of two things. It will either be the death of me, or it will be the start of a bloody war. I choose the latter.
I’m unable to move from the mirror as Miriam continues to arrange me for my wedding. My hair is pinned but allowed to cascade down my back in wild golden waves. Miriam leaves to collect more pins as watch myself in the mirror. Others might see a princess, but I see a wild-hearted warrior.
A small smile turns up the corner of one side of my mouth. Did I just react to my own thoughts? Or was that a false pretense of pleasure at my impending doom?
I shout, the sound in my head almost sounding like a growl, and I’m pleased to feel the sensation ripple through my body.
All is not lost. Not yet.
Miriam returns and finishes pinning my hair before leading me to the other side of the room where she places a small bouquet of flowers into my hand before leaving the room. She doesn’t lock the door. Rage burns inside me. Running away is of such little threat to them now that they don’t even bother locking my door anymore. I growl, this time the vibrations shooting through my body are so strong I actually waver in my standing position.
I need something to focus my anger on. Something to channel my rage. A reason to escape. So far, my own danger hasn’t proved to be a strong enough cause. I have to think.
The darkness in Damien. I try to allow the thought to envelop me, but I quickly shake it as the mists immediately begin to overtake my mind. So, Damien and his powers are off-limits. Too dangerous.
Papa? I let the thought of his poisoning, his death, rile me. I call up my memories of childhood days spent and lost with him. The love I once felt for him and hoped I’d feel again, but I can’t hold onto it. There’s not enough attachment. My childhood was spent mostly alongside my mother and other children in the woods. My father rarely spent time with me, aside from disciplining me.
Mother? For the first time in years, I allow the heartbreak of my mother’s death to overwhelm my thoughts. I can feel my heart cracking, but the love, while beautiful, is old. A wound that I have long since learned to accept. As much as she loved me and I her, she is long since gone. If anything, the more I try to channel this emotion, the more I want to let go, to be reunited with her once again. Wherever that might be.
Hot tears well up in my eyes and spill down over my cheeks. I want to break down, fall into a heap on the floor, but my body just remains stiff and standing. Aching with the pain.
There’s no time to mourn, I try to tell myself, but I continue to weep.
The wetness streaking my face stops my heart for a moment as I realize I can still show emotion.
Sickness twists my stomach into terrible knots. This means Damien can still hurt me. He’ll know, even as if I try to hide it. He’ll know when he gets through to me. I’m at a loss. All my determination fleeing in the blink of an eye, if my eyes would still blink normally.
As soon as he realizes I can still show emotion, I’m sure he’ll do everything in his power to break me. Use me. Destroy every semblance of humanity left in me. Every day will be a new form of torture.
I force myself to turn my thoughts to something else. Allowing myself to simply stare out of one the windows at the greenery of the forest canopy spreading off into the distance. I imagine myself running, wind in my hair, free. I’d never come back. Never be trapped again.
The tears stop, although I can still feel their sticky paths on my face and the light tickle of teardrops on my chest.
Again, I am frustrated by my sudden realization that I can still feel. My physical body still acknowledges the sensations of the environment around me, whether or not I want it to. However much I might try to separate myself from my body, some of it would still get through to me. I might be able to pull away for a time, drown myself in the mists, but there would be no way to avoid it all.
The door creaks open and Miriam enters. I don’t move, only knowing it’s her through the peripherals of my vision and the sound of her footsteps. Her frowning face comes into vision as she stops in front of me and wipes at my cheeks. She pinches them to bring color back into them before grabbing a bit of rose and crushing it between her fingers.
I must look a wreck for her to be going against Damien’s wishes that I not wear makeup. This bothers me. If we are in fact both under this curse, why is she able to disobey some of his orders? Perhaps she isn’t cursed…or she knows how to break it.
I try to focus my eyes on hers, willing her to tell me something, but all I manage to do is growl. Her fingers, which had been gently rubbing away the tear stains on my chest, recoil as I do and her expression hardens as she looks up at me, questioningly.
I say nothing, obviously, but inside, I feel an awakening. Up until this point, I hadn’t realized the sounds, the growls and the vibrations that coursed through my body were noticeable to anyone but myself. Hope rises in my chest.
Miriam hastens from the room, and I am left once again standing, waiting. It doesn’t take long for her to return, or at least it doesn’t seem like long in my mind. Every moment alone I poke and prod at my mind as I attempt to find some knowledge I can use to defeat Damien’s curse. But, when I refocus on what my physical eyes are seeing, I notice the daylight has changed. Late afternoon. The wedding will be taking place soon. My legs are aching from standing in one place all afternoon.
The handler has come as well. As Miriam takes my hand, guiding me from the room, I watch as my leopards are chained to the wall. My eyes catch each of theirs in turn, and something shifts inside my heart. A spark. A small piece of the icy wall splitting me in two begins to melt. The moment passes as the door to my bedroom is closed to me forever and Miriam leads me down the passage and toward my betrothed.
Twenty-Nine
Li
We took turns sleeping through the night, keeping a close eye on Annalise even after the sounds stopped.
I have to remember to thank my ancestors properly if I ever get the chance. It has to be a sign. She’s still alive, she’s still Annalise. I have to make a decision. I thought it would be easier if I knew her mind was still intact, but it’s made everything worse.
Roan thinks I have to allow the bond, but Ero thinks it’s too dangerous.
When she woke, there wasn’t a single trace of her left, but then I hear it. A low purring sound, too quiet for human ears. I’m afraid she’ll alert Miriam to it if it gets any louder, but Annalise stops as soon as Miriam gets close to her. At first, nothing happens after Miriam leaves her to wait, but then we hear a louder purr and Annalise moves ever so slightly as the vibrations force her body out of balance.
The afternoon passes slowly as we listen and watch, none of us speaking. I know Ero and Roan are trying to give me space to decide, but the tension is palpable.
I’m alarmed when I see tears stream down her otherwise motionless face. She can still feel.
“How can I choose?”
“You have to,” Ero replies. “You’re the only one who can let us get closer. Thor’s beard, we’ve had enough lectures from you on the dangers. Now it’s up to you to decide if it’s worth risking everything with the possibility of making things worse…”
“Or saving her life,” Roan chimes in unhelpfully. “And probably still making everything much worse.”
“I hate you both.”
“The feeling is mutual,
” Roan replies with as much playfulness as he can manage, but there’s an edge to it.
Miriam and the handler have returned.
“Damn it!” Ero says as I realize too late that we’re being chained to the wall.
“Looks like the decision has been made for us,” says Roan.
We watch as Annalise is led out of the room, but her eyes shift to meet ours just before she’s swept from the room, the door closed behind her.
A familiar burn in my heart is sparked into a fiery blaze with just a look. I’ve been such a fool.
“I’ve made my decision.”
“A little late for that.”
“We’ll see,” I say. “Her finger twitched.”
Thirty
Annalise
I can hear the wedding long before I see it. The sounds of guests milling about, the tuning of instruments, and the heavy, overpowering scent of flowers fills the castle. I wish I could retch.
The doors to the Great Hall are closed, but Miriam stops us long before we reach them and once again leaves me to wait as she slips inside.
I’m still holding the bundle of flowers in my hands. I breathe deeply, or at least my inner me imagines I do.
Concentrate. Ever since the mists took over, I’ve had an excruciatingly difficult time remembering my leopards when they are not in my direct vision or close enough for me to feel their presence. When our eyes met, a split second of clarity washed over me. But the more I try to focus on them, the darker the fog in my mind seems to grow, tearing at my sanity.
