Slowly, I tuck the bottle into my pants pocket. “Thank you.”
Mother reaches out for my hands, taking them in her soft, comforting ones. “You can still come live with us, you know. You’re always welcome.”
I think of Nils. I doubt that’s true, but I won’t remind her of how much he hates me. Either he hasn’t told her, or she refuses to accept it. I’m not sure which it is or if I want to find out.
“I can’t,” I tell her, biting off the words.
My mother may be a skilled healer, but there are some things even she cannot mend.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVENEDITH
Yellow eyes open in the darkness of my dreams. Fur flashes as I hit the floor. I feel teeth. Claws. Sudden, sharp pain. The taste of blood on my tongue, like a mouthful of copper wool.
Only this time, Amund isn’t there.
The attack doesn’t stop. Teeth rip into my throat, tearing and biting viciously. Hot blood pumps out of me, steaming in the cold. Awful, sloppy wet sounds fill my ears. I can feel everything as I’m devoured. Bones cracking. Splitting. Unbearable agony.
I sit straight up, soaked with sweat.
Fur brushes my skin like a nightmare come to life. Breathing hard, I kick out instinctively—it’s only my fur blanket. Even though I need to keep warm, I can’t stomach having that touch me right now.
A loud knock rings out, making me jump.
When I open the door, Bea is standing there, wearing a sweater covered with stars, jeans, and her favorite UGG boots. She launches herself at me, throwing her arms around my waist. “I’m so glad you’re okay.” Bea nuzzles against me. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“Don’t worry.” I pat her head gently. “I’m fine. See?”
Guilt squeezes me even tighter than she does. What would it have done to Bea if Ihaddied? I know how badly it can fuck you up to lose someone you love, especially to violence. At first I was in shock. Nothing seemed real. Then came the tears.
Then I got angry.
I never want Bea to have to lose herself to such debilitating rage. I was furious at Dad for what he did. Furious at Mom for letting his abuse continue for so long. Furious at everyone for not helping her. Furious at myself for…everything. The only way I learned to live with it was to push it down—and to focus on taking care of Bea.
She pulls back, pouting. “You’d better be.”
“I am. Promise.” I offer her a small smile. “You didn’t tell Jim and Patricia about what happened, did you?”
Bea shakes her head. “Helga told me not to.”
“Good. Don’t.” The last thing I want is them finding out about this. They could pull us out of Skallagrim before I learn to control myself.
Bea stares at my lip.
Instead of wincing like I expect, she grins.
“Wicked wound,” she says approvingly. “I want one.”
“Don’t even joke about it.” I crouch down to her level. I can never tell if she’s being serious or not. “You have to be careful, okay? Skallagrim isn’t safe.”
“I know.” Bea frowns. “Everyone’s talking about it.”
As I study her face, her cheeks are bright, rosy pink. Her auburn hair is braided carelessly. Her eyes sparkle. I won’t lose her or, worse, allow anything to happen to her. I never want her to have to go through what I did. I clench my teeth tight enough to crack them.
Isaachasto be stopped.
“Brought you something,” Nils calls from outside my dorm this evening.
I sit up in bed, grateful he’s back. Without classes to go to, I’ve been cooped up in this room all day while I recover. I’m starting to feel like a caged animal, trapped with nothing but my own thoughts and fears as I relive the attack. So I’ve been practicing summoning my claws, determined to learn how to control this ability.
