Shocked, I stare at her in silence as she returns her attention to my wounds.
“Alright.” She nods to herself, then looks up at me. “I need you to shift.”
I chuff the tiger equivalent of a scoff in response. Even if I did trust her, which I certainly don’t, I don’t have the energy to shift, wounded as I am.
“Listen to me.” Grabbing one of my paws, she pays no mind to my claws as she places it on her palm and begins stroking the fur. “I need to see you in your natural form to properly assess your wounds.”
The more I watch her and her companions move, the way they speak and interact with each other, the more I sense they aren’t Cursed at all. But whether they’re Cursed or not is inconsequential. I still have the Soulless’ venom coursing through me, and there's no way this female can help with that.
“I can help you shift, but I can't do it on my own,” she says in a strange, lilting accent. “Can you at least try?”
Feeling her stroke the fur on my paw, I think about how she can’t possibly heal me, but if I could manage to shift, I could at least send her to the Captain with a message and warn him of what happened here tonight. Maybe, even though Calder and I will die, at least we can use our last breaths to protect Seboia.
But how can she help me shift? That's not a known Gift. Maybe she is Gods Cursed.
Unsure if she's Cursed or Seboia’s savior, I chuff in agreement.
I still can’t see her expression within the darkness of her hood, but I hear the smile in her voice when she says, “Perfect! Now I'm going to count to three. When I say three, I want you to shift.” She places both palms on my sternum. “Ready?”
Ah, fuck it. What more do I have to lose?
I chuff in response, and she curls her fingers into my matted fur.
“One…two… three!” she shouts, and I try to shift. But as I wait for a wave of glittering copper to wash over me, nothing happens.
Inhaling a deep breath, I try once again to summon my Gift, but I can't call forth even a trickle of power. Feeling foolish for even entertaining the thought, my muscles loosen and I scour my mind for a way to pass a message along to her. But suddenly, my mind blanks when a bright light of undiluted power explodes from the female's hands, searing my eyes and slamming into my chest, remolding me into my two-legged form in the blink of an eye.
What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck!?
Eyes still burning from the flash, I squint and gape at the woman poking and prodding the wounds on my now naked body. “What are you?” I ask. She laughs and continues to inspect my gut.
“A pain in my ass is what she is,” a male voice growls.
“Shush it.”
“I will not shush.” He stalks forward and crouches beside her. “You can’t do this. It’s too risky.”
“I don't take orders from you.”
“No, you don't,” he replies. “But you must be reasonable.”
She whips her head towards him, and even though I can't see her face, I can feel the glare directed at him. “What should I do, then? Leave him here to die?” She redirects her attention back to me, prodding the wound on my thigh. “Why is his life less deserving than others?”
“One soul will never carry more weight than all the souls of the realm.”
Frowning at the strange conversation, I watch the female's fingers freeze, hovering above my wound. “Except for mine, of course,” she replies, her voice filled with contempt. “The realms could perish as long as I still breathe.”
“The Stars demand it.”
“Well,” she says, crawling up toward my head. “I've had enough of the Stars making demands of me.” Cupping my cheeks, she lifts my chin up and to the side, speaking as if her mouth has been filled with wool. “This might hurt,” she says before I see a flash of glowing eyes and fangs, and she strikes down on my throat with a hiss.
I sink into darkness.
Chapter 19Darius
“What do you mean, she’s indisposed?” I ask, glaring at the Air immortal guarding the door.
“What I mean is,” Aerin drawls, “the Queen is not accepting visitors at this time.”
Upon hearing of the Soulless attack, I, along with my commanders rushed to the infirmary to speak to the survivors. I have to admit, I assumed the reporting guard had embellished events. It was more likely the guards were the victims of an animal mauling or something else more believable. Even when I saw Silas and Calder’s wounds, those now fully healed, seemingly years-old, pink scars shaped as a Soulless bite would be, I was still skeptical. But only until I saw for myself that massive ring of unanimated dead in the middle of The Cursed Woods. At that point, there was no denying the truth of the events.
Uriella’s Light!
We’ve known for years that there is no cure to be found for the Soulless. For they were reanimated by the power of the gods, and a gods’ power can only be defeated by another god’s. And although Silas and Calder themselves admit that their memory of events is hazy at times, there are two things on which they both agree. They were both healed by the bite of a mysterious cloaked female, and she was anything but a goddess. I’d have to agree with them on that fact. For I doubt any goddess would be hiding away in the middle of the forest, lying in wait to save distressed guards.
After leaving the woods, we went directly to the palace to report the attack to my mother. The Kings Council required more evidence before actively investigating the Breccans, and I was eager to present my findings. Even if they don’t believe Silas and Calder’s account that they were healed by the bite of an unknown female, the other rulers can no longer ignore the threat the Gods Cursed pose when their creatures are attacking us in droves.
But once we reached my mother’s private chamber and requested an audience, we were denied entrance by the son of a bitch currently blocking my path.
“It’s urgent,” I bite out.
“Unless there is an imminent threat to the Queen’s life, it will have to wait.”
Feeling my ire begin to rise, I suck on my teeth and fist my hands at my side. “Step aside, Aerin.”
“No.”
I walk towards Aerin with slow, calculated steps, my boots thunking against the wooden floors, the sound booming within the hallway and echoing off the crystal walls. “I outrank you and I'm ordering you to move.”
