He is a mere shadow of the Wolf she met in this grove nine years ago. Then he had been strong, a force to be reckoned with. Soft spoken but fair and firm.
In this form he’s hardly larger than a shifted Fawn. Aerin stands, easily lifting Emrys with her. She carries him back to the safety of the cave, her own body shaking. Magic buzzes under her skin begging for release. Churning like it wants to blast the world apart.
“You realize this is a Wolf, right?” Malice asks, a mild level of disgust in his voice as his heavy boots nudge Emrys’s front paw. Aerin glares at him over her shoulder, tears still glistening in her eyes, blurring her vision but not her rage.
“Be very,very, careful what you say about him, Malice,” Aerin grinds out. She tries to even her breathing, not wantingher bonded-mate to become her punching bag. The only one who deserves the brunt of her anger, and her magic, is Elara.
Malice shrugs, moving across the cave to her backpack.
“Do you have first aid stuff in here?” he asks, rooting through the bag.
Aerin strokes Emrys’s ears as Malice gathers the first aid supplies, laying out alcohol, gauze, and a wrap. Emrys appears weak—small, fragile, and unhealthy looking. Barely clinging to life. And Elara made him this way. Aerin would rather die than leave Emrys in these chains for one more day.
She lets her thoughts circle around all the ways she wants to rip Elara into pieces. Killing her is a mercy Aerin will not grant her. No, Aerin wants to destroy everything Elara loves. Then she wants to strip her skin from her body slowly, layer by layer. Only to allow her to heal before she does it all again.
“Princess,” Malice says softly, crouching down next to her. He snaps her out of the fantasies of Elara hanging from chains in the Royal dungeons, handing her the alcohol.
Aerin moves the fur away only to realize the leg is broken. The sight of the bone makes her queasy.
How long? How long has Emrys been limping around on a broken leg? How long has Elara been torturing him like this?
This is Aerin’s fault.
But she’s going to fix it.
“The alcohol won’t help anything. He needs magic to heal. He needs magic from the Alpha,” Aerin says, pushing to her feet.
“You don’t intend to approach an Alpha, do you?” Malice asks, incredulous. Her pause is his answer. “Aerin, Wolves are not to be messed with. We shouldn’t even be with this one now,” Malice warns, shoving things back in the backpack. His words hold a finality, as if he’sorderingher not to.
“I’m not just going to approach the Alpha, I’m going to challenge her,” Aerin declares. She knows enough about Wolflaw to know if she challenges Elara for Emrys and wins, he’ll never have to suffer at the hands of her magic again.
Gently lifting Emrys in her arms Aerin stands. The Wolf lays limply against her, but the faint beat of his heart thumps against her. She knows, at least, the Pack magic won’t allow Emrys to die like this.
“Princess.” Malice catches her arm. “I can’t allow you to do that.” Malice looks like he wants to drag her back to Valtara.
“You would underestimate me again? After all the good it’s done you so far?” Aerin asks, raising an eyebrow at him. Malice opens his mouth, then snaps it closed again. “You can help me, or you can stay here. I’ll come back when it’s done.”
Aerin leaves the cave holding Emrys’s limp body in her arms. She hears Malice sigh heavily, letting out a low “fuck” before the sounds of his steps follow behind hers, deeper into the woods.
26
MALICE
Boots stomp over firm dirt as Malice begrudgingly follows Aerin through the woods. They have been walking for hours now, following a thin, hardly discernible trail through the forest. Farther from safety. If the Wolves don’t attack them, something else is bound to. He keeps a vigilant eye and ear on the trees. For now, there is nothing but birds chirping and small creatures chittering in the underbrush.
The white Wolf still lays limp in Aerin’s arms. It’s a pathetic example of what a Wolf can be. In the North, Wolves grow huge, their magic not something they wield but something that wields them. Each pack lives off a pool of magic controlled solely by the Alpha. Each member is almost an extension of the Alpha. Because of this they are formidable opponents. Too wild to be allowed into the City-States but too strong to be cast aside the way many Rogues are in the eyes of Fae, Shifters, and Mer.
Malice knows a few Wolves in the North. They live in small packs, making up for their lack of numbers with their massive size. Southern Wolves take the opposite approach, smaller with strength in numbers. This Wolf is smaller than even the smallest Malice has encountered.
It’s obvious Aerin knows this Wolf somehow. But Wolves are rarely allowed inside the City-States of the North or West. In Valtara it is unheard of. The Tolvare King views the Wolves as nothing more than vermin. He has an arrest on sight order along the walls. And Wolves who are “arrested” are never seen again.
Which means Malice and Aerin are breaking both Wolf and Fae law. He shouldn’t be surprised; Aerin always seems to be loyal only to herself.
Walking in silence, it’s another twenty minutes before they approach a small clearing. The grassy meadow is narrow, surrounded by large boulders with only two exits, the one they walk through, and the one where a black Wolf is snarling.
Malice finds himself with a weapon in each hand, his wings spread. To his right Aerin sets the unconscious Wolf gently in the grass. She stands tall and meets Malice’s gaze. Her eyes are alight with rage, but her voice is low when she speaks.
“This is something I need to do on my own. If anything happens, if she violates the terms of the fight, if someone tries to hurt Emrys, you will protect us. Until then, you will allow me to fight for what is mine. Do you understand?”
