He chuckled. “Behind those walls and gilded doors, those self-righteous monks, are Siren Singers. The very monster that terrorized Moondaj upon our leaving. The very thing you saw Dion kill–”
I had heard it. That was the loud screeching during the werewolf’s rampage. “Before I escaped Lassig, a werewolf went on a rampage in the Hall of Order. It killed many guards and inspectors–”
“Surely not,” Roman said, shocked. “You’re joking?”
“I swear,” I said.
“But it’s impossible. The Siren Singer was specifically made with Lady Skol’s dark magic. She bred merls with people. She–she specifically–”
“I heard it,” I said, taking his hand gently.
Roman stilled at my gesture. “Then the world has already shifted. I need to think about this,” he said. “If you’ll excuse me for my rudeness, I need to lie down.” Roman stood and went towards the tent. “When he comes back,” he paused, staring at the flames, “he’ll understand. He won’t want to, but he will.”
He disappeared and I didn’t know what he meant, was it about me or his own actions?
How much could Roman guess about me from his foresight? Did he understand my prophecy, including the second part about love? I sat watching the embers burning up the piece of wood. DidIeven know everything?
A howl rose in the night. Up on the cliff face that was connected to the rise, the moon framed a wolf. A large hulking alpha that was arching its back and calling into the night. Dion. Sorrow poured from him… pain, anger, but also, love.
I felt him reach out to me. His warmth spread throughout my body and into my heart. I reached back, and had the best sleep I’d ever had.
The next few weeks seemed quick as we crossed the desert. Despite not being able to see, Roman led us across the wastelands as good as he had for the last few weeks. He knew where every camp spot was before we arrived, where the drinking wells and oases were. He knew when there was danger before it even arrived.
If I hadn’t watched the flesh in his eye sockets stitch itself back together, I never would have believed he was blind.
I was depressed from the deaths of my two best friends, Aunt Teetee and Agatha. Both had died painful and horrible deaths that IvowedLady Skol would pay for. Because she was always on my mind too. Just as Roman had said, dreams had a magic of their own, and I’d continued to have more of them.
It was generally the same dream. I was on a terrace, Dion would come to me as a king, and Lady Skol would feed me poison. Sometimes I couldn’t wake from the dream and would experience Lady Skol pouring the poison down my throat. I would buck and writhe,feelthe poison in my stomach burning me. Only to be awoken by Dion. His face would be full of worry, then relief once I awoke.
I thought of Roman’s warning, he must’ve known more about my prophecy. But despite knowing it, and knowing the secondary one, I couldn’t help but fall in love with Dion. He was so considerate and curious. After the first week of travel and the excitement had worn off, he began to teach me about shifting. He explained why my first shift had been so dangerous. Why they’d needed to drug me, and the risk of my health without my induced sleep.
He said it was because of mystrengththat it was important to have controlled me.
Which was odd to me. Sure I was mentally strong, but physically? I was a dainty woman. I had herbalists’ hands. Gentle hands. Life giving hands. Not murderous paws and hulking size. I was a girl convinced that she was on the bottom, when my blood proclaimed me as an Alpha of the highest order.
This all led into self-defense lessons too. In the evenings, after we’d stopped traveling for the day and Roman was thinking before dinner, he would take me through a handful of maneuvers and tricks. Nothing that would make me a master, but a few things that might save my hide given certain situations.
As hard as we worked, I found it incredibly hot. I got to see him topless every day, see him sweating, feel his strong body against mine when he was holding me to demonstrate something. With every cell in my brain telling me not to love him, all I could do was fall further. I couldn’t control my prophecy and fate, but neither could I my heart.
Was it this, that Roman had warned me of? That Dion would understand if he found out?
I didn’t want to risk it.
One evening I awoke in the small hours. Grunting and growling were happening outside the tent, restrained barks, and scratching. I ran outside to find Roman beside a large wolf dreaming on the ground. It was Dion. He lay beside the fire, twitching and growling. His fangs were bared and jaws gnashing. He looked like violence personified.
Roman was beside him, a hand on his throat, reciting words into the night.
My foot caught a tent rope and I tripped.
Roman snapped out of his stance straight away and Dion awoke, rising to his pads and roaring at me. His fangs dripped lather and I knew this was my end. My body didn’t even react. I didn’t shift, nor could I feel that I would.
Dion stalked forward.
He was going to kill me.
My prophecy hadn’t lied.
I closed my eyes and reached out with my heart. I put up a hand to touch his fur. I fully expected him to bite it off…instead, he placed his muzzle against my palm.
