“Grateful is researching an antidote in her grimoire,” Silas said. “We could wait until she comes back.”
“Who knows how long that will take?” Gerty stepped away from the bed, guiding Silas to the back of the room with a gentle hand. “Let the girl give it a shot.”
Silas looked at her and nodded. “Fine. Do it.”
Swallowing hard, Selene approached the bed. Anxiety made her mind go blank. She set the chest down on the mattress beside Jason and rehearsed the ritual in her mind. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes to steady her nerves. She’d never done this before—only learned about it in theory. And although she was sure she could execute the steps correctly, if it didn’t work, she’d feel like a fool, like her entire life’s work was a game.
“May I have a candle please?” she asked Laina. “Preferably white.”
The princess left for a moment and returned with a thick white pillar but nothing to light it with.
“Allow me,” Gerty said. With a flick of her silver wand, a flame sputtered to life. Selene nodded her thanks. Then she got down to business.
Leaning over the bed, she laid both hands on Jason’s heart and began to chant in the original language of her people. The series of growls, grunts, and clicks combined with more human syllables was not used anymore, aside from her religious order and the orders of the other packs, but her song was an entreaty unto the goddess, begging for divine intervention.
Selene unbuttoned Jason’s shirt as she sang, revealing his chest. The remnants of a broad, muscular physique lay wasted before her, wiry and sunken. He was emaciated by werewolf standards. Curling her lip, she thanked the goddess for her help revealing his affliction. Jason had been ill a long time.
With careful fingers, she uncorked a bottle of ink prepared with a single flake of the Primary’s dried blood and dipped one of the Fireborn claws into it. Still chanting, she started beneath his navel, drawing a pattern of symbols in bright red, careful not to break the skin. The tribal prayer she designed stretched in a straight line, over his stomach, up his neck, to the center of his forehead. When it was complete, she wiped the claw clean on her own robes with a crisscross motion over her heart and returned it to the box.
The air felt thick to her now, and the candle’s flame flickered more slowly, although she wondered if the perception was due to her deep meditative state and not a verifiable reality. Was everyone seeing things in slow motion? She retrieved the fang from the box, the same one used to carve the tattoo into Kyle’s shoulder, and placed it on Jason’s forehead where it shone white like a crescent moon.
Her song grew more urgent. The goddess must intervene. She called upon her from the deepest part of herself, from the purest depths of her heart. Carefully she removed the last artifact—a strip of the Primary’s pelt—and draped it across Jason’s chest.
Were her eyes deceiving her, or had Jason’s skin taken on a purple glow? This was the part of the ritual when she was supposed to draw the curse from his body and welcome it into herself. Acolytes and priestesses kept themselves pure for a reason. A curse like this one would fizzle and die inside her, or so she’d been told. She passed her hands through the heavy air over his body, chanting and sweeping the purple energy toward her chest.
Rapidly, a longing stirred deep within her, an ache blooming low in her abdomen. What was this wanting? She leaned over Jason, her thoughts going places they’d never gone before. She could picture herself on top of him, riding him, grinding against him. Her cheeks grew hot. Sweat bloomed at her temples. A memory of her hand threading into his filled her mind. Only, the skin was much too pale to be hers. No, it wasn’t hers at all. This was someone else’s memory.
And then she saw something else in her mind: a road, a river, and a place between two mountains.Come to me, a woman’s voice said. Blue eyes flashed from the face of a blond woman whose ghostly body hovered on the other side of the bed.
Selene ignored the apparition and leaned over to complete the ritual. She ended her song of supplication with a kiss to Jason’s mouth. On contact, liquid flame coursed through her closed lips, down her throat, and into her lungs. She gasped, straightening and clutching her throat. The curse twisted inside her, worming through her torso. In her pain and panic, she couldn’t remember the last part of the spell. Desperately she gasped for air, unable to free herself of the dark torment.
End how you begancame Artemis’s voice in her head. Every prayer is a circle. Always end the way you began.
Black spots danced in her vision. Frantically she turned to the candle and blew. Her breath came out black and ignited the flame as if she’d spit gasoline. Fire flared toward the ceiling. Hot, cleansing fire. Once the black breath was burned away, the flame extinguished, dowsing itself in a pool of melted wax.
Instantly she felt lighter, as if she’d removed a heavy weight from her soul. But the lightness turned into a spinning, floating sensation. She heard Gerty gasp. And then Selene’s shoulder slapped the wood floor.
* * *
“What the fuck?”Jason sat up within a ring of gaping faces. Something dropped from his forehead, and he caught it in his hand. A giant fang. What the hell was all over him? He smeared the red symbols painted on his torso.
Laina and Silas were struggling beside the bed. Someone from the floor but Jason couldn’t see who it was behind the full skirt of Laina’s dress. His gaze darted to Gerty, whose wrinkled expression gave nothing away but was tight with concern.
“I’m all right,” Selene’s voice came from between them. The elegant blush-colored robe drifted into view as Silas and Laina parted. “Water please.”
Gerty nodded and ran for the kitchen.
“What’sshedoing here?” Jason asked, bristling at the idea of the pious acolyte witnessing his embarrassing state. “Why is everyone staring? And why the hell am I in Laina’s bed?”
Silas growled. “Shejust saved your life.” His brother cradled Selene’s elbow as she swayed on her feet.
While Jason tried to wrap his head around that tidbit, Laina stood and retrieved a towel from the bathroom, tossing it to him. He snatched it out of the air and started mopping his chest with it. Slowly the memory of what happened came back to him and he thumbed the base of his finger. “Where’s my ring?”
“Grateful had to destroy it. It was killing you,” Silas said. “Are you going to tell us why you were wearing it, or do I need to alpha the truth out of you?”
He scrubbed his face with his hands. “I didn’t want this to happen. Not on Laina’s special day. I was just trying to make it through the wedding.”
Laina approached the bed and took his hand. “It’s too late for all that. Just tell us what happened.”
