Page 25 of The Wolf's Mate

We’ve watched enough of this poor family’s suffering, and I take Hettie’s hand, leading her down the hall. More rooms with full beds. More mourning families. Healers race from room to room to check on all their patients. The dark circles under their eyes are more pronounced than they were last week. It’ll only get worse as more and more of the infirmary’s beds fill up.

“What happened here?” Hettie’s voice is barely above a whisper, but it may as well have been a shout. The death-like halls are unforgiving, and each cough is the sound of a pendulum swinging back and forth. Never knowing when it will all be over.

I lead Hettie down the hall and make a left at the fork. This leads up to a private break room that goes unused. None of the healers have time to use this room anymore. Hettie sits down on a too-stiff couch, and I take a seat in the chair in front of her.

The room is cold, much like the rest of the facility, and Hettie trembles, despite her jacket. “There’s a blanket next to you.” I reach for the quilted blanket. She offers me a smile as I drape it around her. I thought the clothes Tallie chose for Hettie would be enough to keep her warm, but she’s going to need something thicker.

“What’s happened here, Rip?” she asks again.

I promised her answers. And she’s going to get them.

“What did Ender tell you about our pack?”

She shrugs. “Honestly? Not much. Probably so I wouldn’t be scared away. I knew I would marry the King Alpha to help his pack. He didn’t mention how or why, though.”

Sounds like Ender. He can be annoyingly obtuse at the best of times.

“Not too long ago, another human from your world was brought over by Ender to marry the Dragon King Malix. She helped break the dragons out of their sleeping curse and restored the wards around Dragon’s Keep that keep the Nephilim out.”

“Rose, right?” Hettie questions. “I know of her, but we’ve never met.”

“Yes, perhaps you’ll meet her someday.”

“I don’t really understand who the Nephilim are. I thought we were dealing with rogues. Are they really your biggest threat, or is it Michael?” I can see her mind working a mile a minute. From her short stay, she has already seen and picked up a lot of conflicting information.

Hettie is smart and intuitive. Those traits will make her a good Luna.

“The Nephilim are creatures of nightmares. Giants with shredded wings and immense power. They are cruelty and darkness personified. Their leader, Gadreel, wants to remake Mescos in his image by annihilating everything and everyone in his path.” The way Malix described these horrendous beasts, I know my pack won’t be able to fight them on our own. Hence the need for his help when the time comes.

I dive into the brief history of the Great War, when the rulers of Mescos came together to imprison the Nephilim. Gadreel cast a curse upon the rulers, that in one hundred years, if the kings of Mescos do not find their mate, they will fall to the Nephilim’s curse. It’s all a lot to take in, and I expect Hettie to stop me. I wouldn’t blame her if she said the story overwhelmed her.

But she doesn’t.

She listens and nods. She doesn’t flinch or appear scared, like I thought she would. She looks…like the pack Luna.

Pride and something else I’m not ready to admit swell in my chest. Her calming presence takes away a little of the stress, which is more than anyone else has done.

“So, these sick people…it’s because of the curse,” she says slowly. “What exactly is the curse that makes your pack so sick?”

“Our.”

“Hmm?”

“Our,” I repeat. “Our pack, Dove.” Her lips quirk up in a phantom smile. It soon falls as I go on. “The curse is making our wolf go dormant.”

Hettie’s brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

“Every wolf is born with two souls inside their body, that of a human and the other of a wolf. We are one and have always been one. The curse is taking our wolf from us, leaving us shadows of what we once were. Our bodies can’t handle the loss of our wolf. We grow sick and eventually…”

“Die,” she whispers what I cannot. “But…” She pauses, trying to formulate her thoughts. “I don’t understand how Michael fits into this.”

“Michael.” I can’t keep the growl out of my voice. The rogue is worse than the dirt beneath my feet. When the day finally comes, I will gladly tear his head from his body, like I should have done long ago. “He has been my enemy since my ascension to king. He wanted to be King Alpha, so we fought for the title. When I bested him, I made my first foolish mistake as king. I let him live.” It’s a condensed version of the truth, but enough for now.

“You showed mercy,” Hettie says, reaching out to put her hand on my thigh. Neither one of us moves. My mate is touching me, and my wolf fucking loves it. As if sensing my wayward thoughts, Hettie blushes and pulls back. “So, he’s the leader of the rogues?”

I nod. “He’s the reason we can’t make our sick wolves better.”

“So, there’s a cure?” Hettie perks up, hope blazing behind her eyes.

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