Page 16 of Destined to the Lycan
Her words made me frown. “Why one week before the full moon?”
“Until now, I wondered about that. I believe she always meant foryouto be my guide. Which explains why she wanted me to come after the full moon, and why we must complete the mission at least a week prior to the next one. Ranael must bite me twice, the second bite a few days after the first one.”
“Leaving us with a couple more days for me to take you back to safety before locking myself up,” I whispered with sudden understanding.
She nodded firmly while holding my gaze unwaveringly. “Yes. This cannot be a coincidence. The Weaver always meant for it to be you.”
I didn’t know how I felt about that. A part of me rejoiced. Surely, this was another sign from Fate. But what if I failed her?
“Very well,” I conceded at last. “But I will need a bit of time to prepare. We shall leave the day after tomorrow.”
“Thank you!” Amara exclaimed.
In her enthusiasm, she unconsciously reached for my right hand and clasped it between both of hers. The fire in my blood—which had cooled during our conversation—flared again, setting my skin ablaze. I swallowed hard and gently squeezed her hand back in a reassuring fashion.
In that instant, I knew that nothing and no one would stop me from helping her achieve her goal. We would get her the cure she needed, even at the cost of my own life.
Chapter 4
Amara
After a restless first night, the following day dragged endlessly with not a single sign of Remus. More than once, I forced myself to silence the panicked little voice screaming that he had vanished on me and would be a no-show in the morning. And yet, another much louder voice told me to stop being silly.
That total stranger awakened in me a bone deep trust that I couldn’t explain. Granted, Remus was insanely handsome, tall and muscular in a way that almost made me feel fragile. The beastly aura that emanated from him was both intimidating and enticing. A truly feral creature lurked within him, contained by a sweet and highly protective male.
The fact that he went rabid during the full moon should terrify me and automatically eliminate him as a potential candidate. However, although I didn’t know her either, I also implicitly trusted Misty. Her vouching for him, and the Weaver’s words about finding someone I trusted with my life on the day after the full moon reinforced my belief that he was the one.
To my chagrin, I didn’t really take the time to visit the village or even hang out in the common room. The visiting packs made me uncomfortable. The pity and disapproval in their eyes rubbed me the wrong way. As much as I appreciated that they stemmed from a wish to protect me from the male they perceived as a threat—not to say an abomination—it pissed me off how they treated him.
Throughout our conversation that first night, their gazes never strayed from us, all of them condemning, many visibly fighting the urge to intervene. I almost wished one of them actually did so when Remus finally consented to be my guide. As much as I disliked confrontations, I would have gladly ripped them a new one for refusing to help me and yet attempting to prevent the one who would from doing so.
Considering the long journey that awaited us, I rested as much as possible in the comfortable bed that Misty had put at my disposal and had most of my meals in my room.
On the second day, I made my way down to the dining room, my stomach fluttering with nerves and excitement. Remus stated we would head out around 8:00 in the morning. I wanted a solid breakfast before hitting the road and to grab a few snacks to bring with us.
Halfway down the stairs, the sound of a heated conversation reached me. I almost stomped my feet to make my approach clear so that they would be warned should this be a private matter. However, I immediately recognized Ulric’s voice angrily addressing Misty. That single sentence made it clear they were talking about me.
“He can’t take her!” Ulric hissed. “You know as well as I do that this whole thing is suicidal!”
“Leave it be, Ulric,” Misty said sternly. “The decision is made.”
“You know that he only wants to fuck her!” Ulric snapped.
I barely repressed a gasp, feeling outraged on Remus’s behalf.
“Stop it!” Misty snarled.
“It’s true!” Ulric insisted stubbornly.
“It’s not. And even if it was true, what does it matter? Remus would never force himself on a woman. Or are you insinuating the contrary?”
“Of course not,” he said angrily, which both surprised and reassured me. “But his seed is foul. He should have been put down decades ago.”
“By Ferazan, why can’t you just leave him alone?!” Misty exclaimed, discouraged.
The same thought crossed my mind as a protective anger surged within me. Such vitriol against Remus felt personal. What had transpired between the two men to stir such hatred?
“Remus will ruin her,” Ulric said forcefully, as if that was all the justification he needed.
