“Elara was a child of the gypsy witches,” he says quietly. “She was raised by them. Protected by them.”
The breath leaves my lungs. “What?”
“She was one of their own.” His jaw clenches. “Which is why they would never harm you. If the witches are right, and someone did curse us—cursed you and me—then that person would know. Or their descendants would know. About what you can do. About who you were.”
The implications crash over me. Someone from centuries ago, holding a grudge so deep it spans lifetimes. Or worse, their descendants, carrying on that hatred.
“Come on.” Kieran gets to his feet and reaches down to help me up. “We need to get back to the palace.”
My legs are unsteady, but his grip is firm. The wolves press against me immediately, whimpering, seeking comfort.
I sink back down to my knees and wrap my arms around as many of them as I can reach. They lean into me, their warm bodies trembling. Some lick my face, tasting my tears. Others just press close, sharing their grief and mine.
“I want to protect them,” I whisper. “All of them. I can’t—I can’t let this happen again.”
Kieran kneels beside me. He reaches out and touches each wolf’s forehead with his thumb. Magic pulses from his hand, subtle but powerful. I feel it wash over the pack, settling into their fur, their bones.
“I’m marking them,” he says quietly. “All of them. I’ll know if they are in danger. I’ll be able to find them no matter where they are.”
Relief floods through me so suddenly, I almost start crying again. “Thank you.”
He nods, then touches the last wolf—a young female who has been pressed against my side. She whimpers and licks his hand.
“They’ll be safer now,” he says. “But Daciana, you need to be careful, too. Whoever did this—”
“I know.” I stand slowly, one hand still resting on the young wolf’s head. “They’re not done.”
“No,” Kieran agrees. “They’re not.”
The wolves follow us as we begin walking back toward the palace. They stay close, a protective circle that shifts and moves with us through the dark forest. Some of them keep looking back at the grave, whining softly.
My heart aches with every step.
“The gypsy witches,” I say after a while. “Can we talk to them? Ask them what they know?”
“We can try.” Kieran’s expression is grim. “But they speak in riddles and prophecies. Getting a straight answer from them is nearly impossible.”
“Better than nothing.”
“Yes,” he agrees. “Better than nothing.”
We walk in silence until the palace comes into view, its windows dark except for a few scattered lights. Most people are asleep. They have no idea what just happened out here in the forest.
When we reach the palace grounds, the wolves stop. They won’t come closer. They never do.
I turn to face them, pressing my hand to my chest. “Stay safe,” I tell them. “Please. Be careful.”
The young female steps forward and nudges my hand with her nose. Then, she turns and leads the pack back into the forest. The wild wolves disappear into the shadows, but I can still feel them. The connection between us is stronger now than ever.
“Come on,” Kieran says softly. “You need rest.”
I nod, though I know I won’t sleep. Not tonight. Not with the image of the alpha wolf’s broken body burned into my mind.
Kieran and I walk toward the palace together, and for once, I don’t pull away when he stays close. I’m grateful not to be alone.
We reach my chambers,and I stop at the door, my hand on the knob. Kieran stands a few feet back, like he’s waiting to be dismissed.
“You can come in,” I say quietly.
