Unable to shift while carrying Cheryl, I have no choice but to borrow a wagon. It’s an old and noisy carriage used to transport goods, not people. The horse is slow, but at least it doesn’t spook at my proximity. Most animals sense the wolf inside me and instinctively want to flee. This mount has probably seen plenty of bad things and doesn’t scare easily. Or maybe it’s ready to bite the dust.
Once we clear the village and reach the rough terrain of the forest, I realize it’ll be faster if I run. I tie the horse to a tree and pick up Cheryl again.
“Karl, where are you taking me?”
“To see Solomon. Hang on, Cher.”
She presses her cheek to my chest with a whimper and remains quiet. I wish she’d fight me. That would mean she’s not that weak. But her silence doubles my urgency. I take off. Mercifully, it hasn’t snowed recently, and the snow on the ground is solid, not the fluffy kind that would make running twice as hard.
It’s impossible to tell the passage of time in the thick of the forest where I can’t see the sky, but judging by my labored breathing, it’s been too long since the beginning of the journey. Finally, I spot the familiar shape of Solomon’s hut, but the lack of light or smoke billowing from the chimney doesn’t bode well. I knock hard on the door and am met with utter silence. My stomach tightens.
Taking a deep breath, I catch his scent moving away from the shack, but it’s not fresh. He’s been gone a day or so. Damn everything to hell.
Cheryl begins coughing again, and her skin is so hot, it’s like she’s a human torch. I don’t think she’ll survive the night if I don’t find help. I glance in the direction of King Raphael’s fortress. My heart lurches in my chest and beats faster. The mating bond is calling to me again.
No!
I shake my head. I can’t allow this damn bond to make me lose sight of what’s at stake—Cheryl’s life.
“You want to run to her, don’t you?” Cheryl asks weakly.
“I do, but I won’t.”
I glance at Solomon’s door. It’s sturdy, and if it were just an ordinary door, I could break in. There’s no way the first familiardoesn’t have wards protecting his place from invasion, though. Damn it. I can’t find help fast enough while carrying Cheryl. I need to shift.
“Put me down, Karl. I’m warm enough that I can’t feel the winter’s bite. You can leave me here.”
“Cher, you’re not well.”
“Give me your clothes. I’ll be fine with the extra layers.”
Is she telling me this so she can die quicker? I’m caught between a rock and a hard place. But in the end, I have a better chance of getting help if I leave her. Maybe Solomon is on his way back.
I set her down, then cover her with my clothes. My skin breaks out in goose bumps, but I hardly feel the sting of cold. My pulse is already racing with the knowledge that Manu is close by.
“I’ll be back as fast as I can. I promise, Cher.”
She just nods, then closes her eyes.
My chest is unbearably heavy. I don’t know if this will be the last time I’ll see Cheryl alive, but I have to believe I can save her. I surrender my senses to the wolf before my sorrow takes over completely.
Ten
MANU
ITALY, 1521
I’m staring at the fire in the hearth, trying to think about anything besides the hole in my chest. The flames dance in a soothing rhythm, almost hypnotically, and I wish they’d put me in a trance. Anything that’d make me forget that I’m living without a heart.
It’s been weeks since Karl left the castle, but the ache of missing him is only getting worse. Daveena gave me a potion to help. It didn’t do much. I believe what ails me is beyond her skill. My body is burning up, craving his touch like it’s the only thing that will keep me alive.
It would have been better if Queen Maewe had killed me, but she’s a sadistic cunt, and this is way more fun for her. Now I wish Lucca had killed not only one but all her precious priestesses alongside her offspring. I shake my head, trying to banish these dark thoughts, but the hate festers in my mind. If I thought for one second that killing the prince and the princess of the Aquila Kingdom would bring Queen Maewe any pain, I’d do it.
Only killing her will do.
I curl my hands into fists, digging my long nails into the softness of my palms until they pierce the skin and I draw blood. I barely feel the sting. The pain is weak in comparison to the agony that hammers my chest every time I think about Karl, which is all the time.
I should eat. I haven’t gone to the feeding room in days, and it’s never a smart idea to go too long without nourishment. Starving vampires can enter bloodlust, and that means I won’t have any control over what I do until my hunger is satiated.
