Page 83 of The Cursed and the Broken
He’d drugged me. The fucking ass had drugged me.
Shooting upright—my head blazing in response to the sudden movement—I winced, running to the bathing chamber and then to the settee out in the main room.
Dread pooled in my stomach, slithering through my sluggish veins. “No,” I whispered. “No, no, no.” I ran to the chamber filled with chests and my heart dropped to my stomach. Dante’s armour, his swords, his travelling cloak … all gone.
Frustration flared and I curled my fingers, my nails biting into the skin with a sting. “You stupid fool.” Tears filled my eyes. He’d left me behind, still believing he could prevent the inevitable.
I folded in on myself, crumpling to the ground. Hopelessness pulled at my nerves, unravelling the threads of my mind. How would I ever find them now? I was a halfway decent tracker, but who knows how deep into the Sötét Erdo the cultists’ lair was? And what if—
My breath caught in my throat. What if Dante and the others were captured? Panic clawed at my heart, making my chest tighten.
A gentle knock sounded at the door and I whipped my head up to find Margit entering. She carried a box in her arms and looked down her nose at me. “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” she huffed.
I could only stare at her with blurry eyes, reaching a hand to her in desperation. Her lips pressed together and she set down the box on a desk and glided across the room like smoke.
When her eyes softened, I thought she might embrace me—lend me a shoulder to cry on—but instead I was met with a resoundingsmack. I clutched my cheek and blinked several times, the panic seeming to ebb out of me in waves as air filled my lungs once again.
She raised a brow. “Better?”
“Yes. Th-thank you,” I stammered. Her hand found my own and she pulled me up with a surprisingly strong grip for such a petite girl.
“I had a feeling my idiot cousin would do this. Lucky for you, I took extra precautions,” she said, taking out a crystal from the sleeve of her dress.
My despair dissolved as I realised what she held in her hand. “Oh my gods.” Excitement bubbled in my stomach as I snatched it from her. “You didn’t!?”
It wasn’t an ordinary crystal, but a wayfinding stone. A talisman that, once spelled by a witch, will lead her to its partner crystal. If Dante had the other in his possession, the spell would lead me right to him.
“Of course I did,” she scoffed. “I sewed its sister into the lining of his boots last night.”
I blinked. I’m not sure I wanted to know how or when she’d managed that, but it didn’t matter. I pulled her into a bone crushing hug, ignoring her muffled grumbles. “You’re a saint, Margit, you know that?”
She smoothed down her dress when I let go, but she cocked her head. “Obviously. But we don’t have time for sentiments. I have something for you.”
Her gown swished along the ground as she opened the box and turned, a sly smile on her face as she held the item out to me. I gasped, eyes widening as I beheld a black breastplate.
It was of fine make—far superior to anything I’d ever worn—fitted to a woman’s form so the top would finish just above my breasts. Howling wolves were engraved in silver on the front, surrounded by sweeping vines and flowers in traditional Hungarian style. It reminded me of Mama and Eszter’s embroidery, while representing the wolves of the Wolfblood Clan.
Tears pricked my eyes as I took it reverently from Margit. She offered me a natural smile and I thought it might be one of the loveliest things I’d ever seen. “You’re one of us now, little wolf,” she said softly. “Wear it proudly.”
I set the armour down and swept her into another hug; this time her arms wrapped around me tightly. She was warm, comforting, and I thanked my lucky stars to have found such a friend in this new world?in my new home. “Thank you,” I whispered. “For everything.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” she said softly as she pulled away, looking me sharply in the eyes. Her eyes were bright, but sadness showed in the taut lines of her face. “And don’t you dare fucking die on me.”
“I won’t,” I said softly, and then a little louder, “I swear it.”
We both knew what I was walking into. But damned if I was going to let fear stand in my way.For my people, I reminded myself.For my family.
“Go,” Margit said. “Tear those cultists limb from limb.”
I nodded. She didn’t need to tell me twice.
Arló thundered out of the gates of Mistvellen like a storm born on high winds and I bent low, my gaze set on the trees in the distance. Laszlo bounded beside us, his velvet ears flapping with every bounce and tongue lolling out.
Somewhere inside the Sötét Erdo, Dante and the others were tracking their prey, but I was on a different scent. I glanced at the crystal in my hand. It was now glimmering a faint blue and, the closer I came to its sister, the brighter it would glow.
They had a couple hours head start on me, but I was determined and I had magic on my side. “Woah, boy.” I pulled Arló to a stop beside the treeline, jumping down and squaring my shoulders.
This was it. As soon as I stepped into those woods, there was no telling what would happen. I turned, stroking Arló’s muzzle. His hair felt like velvet beneath my fingertips and I leaned my forehead against his head.
