A deep sadness wells up within me, and I can’t fight it off.
I saw the truth of my mother’s death and it was like reliving that loss again.
Since seeing it, I haven’t had a moment to process it.
I haven’t had time to begin to understand why the keeper would do everything that he’s done—so many contradictory things: keeping me alive, healing me, helping me, all after he took my mother’s life and only to confirm that yes, he is my enemy.
I’m aware of my pack gathering around me.
Even Jonah has stepped close, his amber eyes dull.
“Darkness.” Anarchy nudges me gently. “None of us can go in after him and Halle was right about one thing: we need to rest. And eat. And talk. You need to tell us what happened so we can understand and try to help.”
I appreciate that ever since I told them that Emil is now my enemy, they haven’t questioned me about it. They didn’t demand an explanation or need to be convinced before they believed and followed me.
They’re here for me. And I need to tell them everything.
I give Anarchy a nod and my pack quickly rallies around me.
A few minutes later, I’m settling down at the edge of the forest where the grass is soft and dry and the night sky remains visible above me.
Jonah and Lucian quickly set about building a cozy campfire—an easy task when Jonah can light up the wood they gather with a single touch—and Rumble and Strife head off to hunt, shifting into their panther forms before they disappear into the woods.
I place the broken book on the grass in front of me before I pull my knees to my chest.
Anarchy and Riot take positions like sentries on either side of me.
Within minutes, Rumble and Strife return, this time in their elven forms and with their arms full of food. They’ve both taken off their shirts and are using them to carry multiple items, which, when they crouch and let them tumble to the ground, turn out to be a variety of vegetables.
Anarchy arches an eyebrow at them. “Vegetables?”
Her brothers shuffle a little as they rise back to their feet.
“The rabbits were too cute,” Strife mumbles beneath his breath.
Anarchy narrows her eyes at him. “‘The rabbits were too cute’?”
“Yep.”
Rumble, too, shrugs.
“I’m a carnivore,” Anarchy grumbles, lurching to her feet. “We’ll see abouttoo cute.”
Rumble and Strife watch her disappear into the trees.
“I was a rabbit once,” Rumble declares. “Rabbits are off the menu.”
Before the keeper successfully broke Anarchy’s curse, allowing her to return to her dark elf form, he’d inadvertently turned her into a fluffy, little rabbit. When he tried to recreate the curse-breaking spell, he tried using the same sequence of magic. Rumble ended up with big rabbit ears, a tail that resembled a ball of fluff, and a rabbit’s mouth and teeth. All while the rest of his body remained that of a panther. The spell took hours to wear off, and he was not impressed.
All of one minute later, Anarchy reappears.
Her hands are empty.
She plonks herself down beside me with a huff and a scowl. “They’re too cute.”
At that moment, one of the little critters scampers in from the trees.
It’s small enough that I could easily snuggle it in my arms. It has floppy ears, a button tail, and rich, brown fur that’s fluffier than anything I’ve ever seen—even fluffier than the little puppies the keeper turned the panthers into once.
