Page 27 of The Howling
I spin on my heel. There’s no point telling her the dress had nothing to do with me. It must have been there, in the place where we piss, all along. I didn’t give anything to my mate, even if my prick wishes I had.
She looked like a vision in the thing. And she looked even better without it. I stomp away from the Kow and through to the secondary courtyard.
In my mother’s day, this place was vibrant with herbs and plants, those we used for food and some for healing. Barghest don’t need much in the way of healing, but the herbs were for the witches and warlocks to use on other inhabitants of the Yeavering and beyond the veil who needed them.
But since she left, it is dormant, nothing but bare earth and twisted empty branches. I’m not sure what I hate more, the emptiness of the castle or the stark reminder of what is missing in front of my eyes.
My growl echoes around the walls, bouncing back to me almost as if there might be another Barghest here, in this place, this blasted place.
Why did I bring her back here?
Because I want her soul.
The Reaper stands before me. His sword is sheathed in an ethereal blue flame, the hood of his tattered cloak pulled back from his skull head.
“You can’t have it.” I bare my teeth, knowing my words mean nothing.
My actions mean nothing. I serve the Reaper. I do not give the orders.
I will.
His form flickers out, and I sink to my knees, clutching at my head.
My life has not been mine since the day the Faerie came with the Reivers to slaughter us all. The curse they left me with, one I never thought I would be able to break. My mistake was agreeing to go with the Reaper, believing it was my only option.
It was not. And now I cannot see how I can break the curse which binds both me to the Reaper and my family to the half life they have.
I want Wynter more than anything I have ever wanted. But now she can never be mine, or I forfeit my whole world.
WYNTER
Istare out of the window down at Reavely in the empty courtyard below. Large earth patches are set out in a grid pattern, but despite the early spring, nothing grows down there.
With a groan, he falls to his knees and clutches at his head. I shouldn’t be concerned for him. I shouldn’t care because he’s made decisions for me which I didn’t consent to.
But somehow, seeing the huge beast like this—it pulls at my chest, making me feel breathless and wobbly. I back away from the glass in order to take a seat.
Whatever happened to me in Lord Guyzance’s castle, it certainly has absolutely fucked me up. The anger which always seems to be bubbling under the surface rises once again until I remember it’s what virtually got me naked in the first instance in front of the big Barghest I’m trying to avoid.
I need time to process everything. The fact he thinks I’m his mate, which can’t possibly be true, the fact that putting on a dress of all things somehow binds me to him, the fact the great shaggy beastowns a castle.
Admittedly it’s a castle with a fair coating of dust and one which is as empty as Pandora’s box, but it’s still an impressive structure to have.
And Lord Guyzance had a castle, so does this make Reavely his equal or the other way around? Is that why the Faerie had Reavely in his dungeons?
The whole thing throws up far more questions than answers and my head is spinning. I probably should find somewhere to lie down.
As I attempt to stand again, I’m caught in a pair of strong, muscular arms, a spicy scent surrounding me.
“Mate.” Reavely croons in my ear. “What ails you?”
“I’m fine.” I attempt to shake him off, but it doesn’t work. “How did you…” I look at him. He’s not even out of breath and yet the castle is a maze. “How did you get here so fast? You were down there.” I point at the courtyard.
“You were watching me, little female?” he rasps.
“No…yes…I was making sure you couldn’t surprise me like this.” I growl weakly.
“I heard your distress and came for you,” Reavely says, his words rumbling through me.
