“Sadie…” Tadhg had the temerity to start forward toward her, his eyes glowing.
I stepped in front of him. “I swear to all three gods, if you try to stop him, Iwillhave the Shadow King pull some god-tech weapon and aim it straight at this fortress—with you inside. You’ve done enough tonight.”
My words must’ve cut through the Mountain King madness. The bear-glow faded, retreating to hazel.
And he stood down, watching as the Shadow King carried her out through the still-open metal doors.
Tadhg stood there, dazed. Like a bomb had gone off in his hands.
“I… I don’t… I don’t understand.”
Of course, he didn’t. Because even though he was the first of us she confessed her love to, he hadn’t given her his bite. If he had, he would’ve known.
“That’s what her mother used to do to her when she got in trouble,” I told him. “Lock her in a room behind a metal door. The last time was just last spring. She left her there formonths. Not hours. Not days.Monthswithout food or water. Sadie lost an entire season of her life because that unworthy female would doanythingto control her. To stop her from making her own choices. From living her own life.”
In the background of my bond bite, I could still feel Sadie’s heart pounding with fear, like someone who’d narrowly escaped a bear attack.
I wanted nothing more than to go to her. But first, I had to tell the male I no longer trusted with our most precious gift: “You were triggered by what you thought was her trying to leave. But you broke her by doing the exact same thing her mother did.”
"I didn't..." All the color drained from his face. “I didn’t know. I didn’t?—”
I refused to hear the rest.
Sadie needed me.
And Tadhg…
Tadhg was about to live out his own worst nightmare.
Because I didn’t see our queen bouncing back from this. She might never forgive him.
Mutter Wulf. Vater Wulf. Baby Wulf.
Sadie
I’m still locked awayin the fortress room.
Whittling wolves.
“Got her out but… seems… trapped inside her mind… scared… Anything we can…?” There’s a warped voice speaking on the other side of the fortress room’s locked metal door.
Not real.
Mutter Wulf.
“Appears… suffering… psychosis…” another warped voice says.
A wave of worry crashes in—different, fresher than all the others. Real? Maybe. The emotions aren’t mine, though.
I keep carving.
Vater Wulf.
“Already days… How long will she…?”
A bright light floods the room. That happens sometimes. I pay it no attention. Just continue carving.
Baby Wulf.
