Page 26 of The Dark Rising
With all this information churning in my mind, I know we fucked up.
I fucked up.
Charles is another one I need to be wary of. Something’s not right, he lied to me when we spoke in his office about Rhea’s mother. There was a glint in his eye that I didn’t like, and now I’m questioning what he’s hiding, what he knows. He hid the fact that Rhea’s mother was an Heir and they kept her alive, yet he upheld the law all the time he has been in power, to capture all Heirs on sight. That, along with him all of a sudden wanting me to produce some powerful pups, to rape Rhea?
I’m missing something, and considering I didn’t even connect that Rhea would be too young for the curse, I need to speak to Rhea about Charles. Right fucking now.
“It could have been Rhea when she was an adult performing the ritual,” Leo says, scratching his chin. “It could be why their numbers are growing? But then, who performed the ritual originally?”
I wipe my hands down my face, hearing the rogures in the distance getting closer. “We need to find Rhea and take her back to Vokheim. We need to talk to her, ask her directly if she performed a ritual when she was older and if she did, then who did she learn it from. She did erase Kade’s memories, she did take people into Eridian against their will, Sarah said so herself. I need the full story. No more lies, no fucking bullshit. Then we will take her back to Wolvorn to have her sentenced if she deserves to be.”
“How are you going to make sure she tells the truth?” Damian asks, looking behind him as another howl sounds.
“Any way I can. I need answers and I need them now.”
“And what if the truth is that she’s innocent in all of this?” Zaide asks, his eyes on me as he voices something I refuse to believe. I can’t believe it, because that means what I did…
I look over at him, glaring. “Not possible.”
She killed some of my Elites’ trainees, and wanted to kill us all in The Deadlands. She lied repeatedly to my fucking face. She held Sarah in Eridian against her will. She threatened anyone that wanted to leave and not be under her paw. Innocent, she’s so fucking far from that…but maybe in this, she is.
“How do we find her?” Jerrod asks, throwing his braid over his shoulder.
“I don’t know, but I will.”
“The blood witch was with her when they escaped,” Zaide says, and my eyes snap to him. “I saw her on the hill.” He nods at the hill at my back.
I spin this information over in my mind until it clicks. “Where is the one place we haven’t looked?” I ask aloud.
“Oh fuck, were going to get boiled alive,” Damian mutters.
“No,” I tell him. “We’re going to get a little wolf.”
At my words, a pack of rogures break through the tree line and I unsheathe my blade, preparing to make quick work of them.
Run, little wolf, your time is up and it won’t be long until I clamp my teeth down, and drag you with me back to Vokheim with me.
Eleven
Rhea
Somethingiswrong.
That’s my first thought as I open my eyes, sitting up and clutching the furs in my hands. The air is... tense, shadowed. It feels like something is prodding against it, looking, searching. A sharp pain in my chest has me looking down, and I gasp at my Heir markings appearing in a flash. Strong and pulsing with an aggressiveness I haven’t felt before. Runa snarls within me, restless as she paces and her hackles rise. I try to calm her, mentally stroking a hand down her muzzle, but it’s no use, she’s still agitated.
I pull the furs back and step out of bed, padding on bare feet to the window. The witches’ homes glow in the dim light from the candles within, no sign of a single person on the dirt pathways or bridges around, the murky waters silent. It’s the middle of the night, so that’s normal, but still, it feels like someone is out there within Witches Rest, dangerous and foreboding.
I grab some linen pants and shove my legs through them before checking to make sure the soft shirt I’m wearing has all the buttons done up. Opening the bedroom door, I peek out, listening before moving down the hallway on silent feet. The house is quiet, only the smell of herbs assaulting my senses. I head down the stairs, one step at a time, my bare feet cooling on the wood. I pause at the bottom, tilting my head and listening.
Nothing, but something is wrong.
I round the corner, heading for the kitchen, and nearly scream the home down as Belldame stands in the archway, a concerned look on her face. “What’s wrong?” I ask breathlessly, rubbing my chest as my heartbeat calms from her nearly making me drop-dead in fright.
“It’s time, child,” she tells me, concern so easily seen on her face.
My heartbeat speeds up. “Time for what?”
“To right the wrong, well, the start of it.”
