“You were saying?” Aden pressed.
“This rose, sculpted with the power of my people, delayed the curse. How fortunate for you.”
Aden wanted to believe that he was, indeed, fortunate. “So, you can reverse this curse?”
Munney did not respond immediately, though Aden had the distinct feeling the man was smiling.
“I can—”
He was cut off by the door slamming open. Onric strode into the room, the living rose in his hand. It was in full bloom, and Aden could immediately smell its fragrance floating through the room.
Munney made a motion to reach for the rose, remembering too late that his hands were bound.
“You can?” Aden felt the panic rising in his chest. He did not trust himself to control his claws if the man did not divulge his secrets.
“Unhand me,” Munney demanded.
“What are you not telling me?” Aden lifted the man from the floor. He felt someone’s hand on his arm, urging him to control himself, but he ignored them.
“I cannot reverse the curse,” Munney croaked. “But when the last petal on that rose falls...” He gasped for breath.
The outside pressure on Aden’s arms increased, and he lowered Munney back to the floor.
“You will lose all remaining human functions.”
“I will die?” Aden asked, not sure if that was an unwelcome prospect at the moment.
“You will fully transform into a beast. You will no longer be human,” Munney sneered.
Aden felt a true roar tear through his throat. He did not even notice when the puny man in front of him was torn from his grasp.
Chapter 7
“Ihate to leave him again so soon.” Isa felt her father’s forehead with the back of her hand.
His eyes remained closed, and his breathing was slow but steady.
“By the time you return, he will be back on his feet and eager to see all the progress you’ve made in the library.” Lady Bielsa had hardly left her husband’s side since he had fallen ill.
“Have you noticed any change this morning?”
“None yet.” Her mother sighed. “He smiled at me a few times, but his words are still incoherent and his mind wanders.”
“It will come back soon. You should get some rest, Mama, or you will be sick beside him.”
“I would rather be sick beside him than alive without him.” Her mother’s words were lifeless. She must be pushing the boundaries of exhaustion, as it was unlike her to have such sad thoughts.
“Do not even think about sharing this illness with him. We need you too much.” Isa set her hands on her mother’s shoulders, massaging her thumbs into the older woman’s stiff muscles. “If love alone could heal him, he would live a thousand lifetimes.”
Her mother smiled, relaxing into the comforting touch. “If I were going to get sick, I would have caught it by now. I am far too strong to be overtaken by a mere fever.”
Isa smiled as she continued to rub her mother’s shoulders. That sounded more like the woman she had always looked up to. “I would much rather be strong than beautiful.” She could not keep the bitterness from her voice.
“How fortunate for you, that you have been gifted with both.” Her mother’s response was formulaic. They’d had this conversation many times before.
Isa did not respond. She stopped her methodical massage and absently tapped her fingers across her mother’s back. She did not have to be happy about the fact that her mother was right.
“Are you angry that I am making Macklin accompany you?”
