Page 74 of Destined to the Lycan
A clacking sound resonated behind me. I jerked my head around to find the door wide open onto the warm summer night. When I glanced back at the Weaver, I recoiled at finding her no longer sitting behind the table. She was now in front of her spinning wheel, spooling some glowing golden thread.
Having clearly been dismissed, I quietly rose from my chair. With a soft grinding sound, the chair glided back to its previous position against the wall by the entrance. Turning on my heel, I placed the necklace between my teeth, shifted into my wolf form, and ran into the night to my mate’s house.
Chapter 17
Remus
It took me far too long to find Amara’s house. Although she had told me about its location before when describing the unexpected inheritance she received from her uncle, my mate hadn’t gone into the specifics one normally asked when coming to visit. Thankfully, I remembered a few landmarks she mentioned in passing which helped me eventually reach my destination.
I silently thanked the Weaver as I headed towards the bridge leading to the front entrance of the imposing gothic manor. If not for that incredibly revitalizing drink, I would have struggled to complete the journey. But right this instant, I still felt as good as new, like I hadn’t half killed myself coming down from the mountain in record time.
A quick glance around the estate brought a few more questions to mind. We were a bit less than three days away from the full moon. I would need to find a safe area to lock myself in after I completed the impossible task awaiting me. As I wouldn’t have time to build a proper shelter able to resist the insanepower I gained once in my rabid werewolf form, I would have to settle for a restraining circle.
I only used those in case of an emergency. As I wasn’t a mage, the basic version I could create as a layman wasn’t anywhere near as powerful as those created by a true arcanist, but it would do the deed. With luck, Amara would have some of the reagents that would allow me to draw a more potent version of the circle. If not, I would have to settle for sand or salt.
The three-story mansion was pitched in darkness, except for the top left room which was illuminated. My heart skipped a beat when I spotted a tall silhouette standing at the left window and looking out.
Lyall…
I could almost feel the weight of his stare on me as I approached the residence. Still, it reassured me that he had kept his word by bringing my mate safely back to her house, and that he stayed to watch over her until my arrival.
I swiftly crossed the bridge and shifted into my human form even as I climbed the handful of stairs up the wide porch. I removed the necklace still clutched between my teeth and reached for the door handle with my free hand. A mixed sense of relief and distress struck me at finding it unlocked. As I stepped inside, a deafening silence greeted me, solely disturbed by the steady tick tock of a large floor standing clock.
Strangely, it didn’t have the musty scent of abandoned places. For some reason, I had expected it would be the case as my mate had been gone for nearly a month. But a sweet yet subtle aroma of herbs and spices with a hint of fruit permeated the air. It instantly appeased me. It likely stemmed from the candles or potpourri Amara crafted. I couldn’t see any candles burning on the ground floor, not that it mattered right this instant.
I made a beeline for the imposing staircase with an intricately carved wooden railing leading up to the second floor. The light under the door at the end of the corridor to my left drew me irresistibly. I thought of knocking but chose to simply open the door instead. I had made no effort to hide my approach, the discreet creaking of the floors further warning them of my imminent arrival.
My gaze zeroed in on the frail creature lying in the oversized bed propped against the back wall on the right side of the room. I paid no attention to Lyall, who was now leaning against the windowsill facing the bed, and hastened to my woman’s side. My heart constricted in my chest as I examined the ravage the demon wolf’s venom was doing to her.
I sat at the edge of the bed and caressed Amara’s cheek. It burnt with an intense fever. Her previously beautiful brown skin had taken an even grayer shade than when I last held her on the plateau at the top of the Storm Hill mountain. Black veins now crawled even higher up her cheeks, some having reached her temples. They had also spread far and wide on her arms and legs. My Flame was breathing painfully, her body shaken by small tremors. Feeling helpless to relieve her pain, I leaned forward and kissed her lips.
Despite knowing it wouldn’t do anything for her right now, I placed the necklace around her neck, carefully adjusting the locket on her chest. Behind me, Lyall moved, reclaiming my attention.
“Interesting gift the Weaver gave you,” he said in a tone that sounded slightly sarcastic. “It might prove useful when the time comes.”
“So you know what she expects me to do?” I asked with an accusatory edge in my tone.
“Of course,” he replied with a shrug. “I hinted as much to you to the extent I could.”
The frustrated sound that vibrated through my chest expressed the annoyance I felt having to deal with these half-truths and mind games both Lyall and the Weaver had been subjecting us to. I understood the restrictions they faced, but it didn’t make it any less aggravating. Instead of making the detour to Cliona’s domain, I could have come directly to Amara’s house.
But then I wouldn’t have the necklace or been so completely rejuvenated by her drink.
I heaved a sigh, realizing the futility of bemoaning what was and what could or should have been. In the end, everything had a purpose, as intended by Fate.
I glanced at my mate’s face—beautiful still even in that terrible state—before refocusing on the doppelganger.
“My task is impossible,” I said, sounding defeated. “I love Amara with everything that I am. But once the full moon rises, I stop being Remus. The feral beast that I become has no reason, love, or empathy. It just wants to destroy anything in its path.”
“Then you will have to love her more,” Lyall replied dismissively.
I snorted and gave him an incredulous look. “If that was all it took, then I wouldn’t be dreading the inevitable outcome.”
I pressed my lips together as I weighed the thought that had been playing in a loop at the back of my head ever since the Weaver confirmed what I had to do. Lyall raised an inquisitive eyebrow when I gave him an assessing look.
“You love Amara, too,” I mused aloud. “More than once, you’ve done what you could to protect her. So I ask you to do so one more time. Whatever it takes, do not let me kill her. And if it comes to that, kill me first.”
Lyall recoiled, and his eyes widened in shock.
