Page 31

“Cadmus.” Lips pressed together, she gives a slight glance back toward the man beside her. “He killed the Legion soldiers, and I killed Doctor Tims. But still, Valdys was taken from me.” Tears shine in her eyes, and I catch the bob of her throat as she swallows. “We followed them back to Calico, and I watched you and your Alpha escape before the doors sealed shut.”

Hearing the memory fall from her lips takes me back to those harrowing moments, and my stomach tightens at the thought. How terrifying that must’ve been to see the one she loved forever trapped inside.

“I’m sorry. I can’t imagine the pain you must’ve suffered.”

“You can’t.” A fire burns in her eyes, one I recall all too well from the night I was certain Six had perished. The night Legion came for him and I was informed that he’d burned in flames. “Nobody seems to understand my pain. You look at me as if I’m mad, but what if it were your Alpha? What if he was sealed inside that place?”

“I have nightmares of that very thing. In them, I don’t know what to do. Perhaps no different than you.” With a huff, I glance to Kenny and back. “So, you hoped that he’d open the doors.”

“I’ve spent two months searching. Hoping. Praying. It seems to come down to the same thing every time. The world is designed to take, not give.”

She sounds like a much younger version of me. One jaded by love, cynical to its power. I don’t need to ask her if she’s given thought to the possibility that he’s already dead. My guess is, she’s done nothing but agonize over it.

A scream echoes through the camp, tearing my attention toward the cluster of tents beyond the fire. With a frown, I push to my feet, waiting to hear it again.

It arrives as before, a woman’s agonizing wail that carries the tone of Mara’s voice.

“Excuse me for a moment.” I dash through the camp, toward her tent, throwing back the flap of it to find her lying on a bed of blankets, writhing and sweating in the dim lamp of a lantern. Red stains the fabric of her clothes and the white patches of her blankets.

Haseya sits beside her, and the moment she catches sight of me, she urges me to Mara’s side. “Hold her down!”

I lurch to do as told, falling to my knees alongside my friend, and band my arm over her chest, as she arches and bucks beneath me. “Mara, calm down,” I whisper, running my free hand over her damp brow. “It’s all right.”

“Perhaps not.” The grim tone of Haseya’s voice skates down my spine, and I turn to see her staring down at the woman’s belly. “This child inside of her must come out.”

Eyes wide, I shake my head, mentally unscrambling the meaning behind her words. “It’s … it’s too early.”

“She’ll die, if I don’t.”

I can’t bring myself to ask how. There’s only one way she could possibly bring this child into the world before it’s ready. I’m not sure I can fathom such a brutal thing, let alone sit by and observe.

“In my tent, I need you to gather the Juniper berries.”

“You would kill the baby?”

“I intend to induce labor.”

“It … it’ll kill it. Trust me on this.”

“You must trust me on this.” Her eyes are unyielding, and at the screech of agony that rips from Mara’s lips, I scramble to my feet and exit toward her tent.

Six catches up with me, matching my quick strides. “What’s going on?”

“Heseya wants to induce labor.”

“Is everything okay?”

“I don’t know. All you can do is wait and see at this point.” Part of me is answering his question, but another part of me is preparing him for the realities of childbirth and his limited role when it comes to my own labor. Aside from comfort, there isn’t much he can do when complications strike out of nowhere.

He nods, frowning as always, and allows me to keep on.

A number of cases stand stacked, holding serums and herbs that she uses for healing. The Alpha who was shot earlier lies on a pile of blankets beside them, breathing heavy with sleep, and across from him sit jars of various plants and berries, encased in an opened crate. I lift each jar, reading the name of them, and come across two. One of them is an oil named savin—Juniperus sabina—and the other is berries, simply titled Juniper.

What the hell is the difference?

Uncertain of which to bring, I swipe up both and race back to Mara’s tent.

“There are two!” With trembling hands, I pass off the Juniper to Haseya, who accepts the berries.