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Feral Born

Page 86

by K.V. Meadows

The glow subsided, and she threw herself off me. She started to back away, but I placed a hand on her ankle with just enough pressure to keep her from bolting.

“I almost …” Her voice was hoarse, barely a whisper. “I almost …” She swallowed, and large tears dripped from her eyes.

“But you didn’t. I’m safe. Now we need to get you to safety.”

Her body shuddered from a sob caught in her throat. “I didn’t do it,” she cried.

I sat up and pulled her close, wrapping my arms around her and holding her tight while she cried and repeated the words, over and over.

I didn’t do it. I didn’t do it. I didn’t do it.

Behind her words, I could hear the uncertainty. Even given all that I knew about Lobofebris, I was certain enough for her. She didn’t kill Shan.

But someone did.

“Here,” I said, patting her back. “Look at me for one moment.”

She pulled back, tears carving a path through dirt and mud caked to her face.

“I have a couple of your drafts in my pack.” Assuming her attack didn’t break any of the vials, I pulled the pack from my shoulders and opened it. Something rattled inside, and I held my breath. I withdrew the box. It was padded on the inside and surprisingly still intact. I withdrew one of the needles, but Aura took it from me, stubborn as always. She injected it into her thigh, a pained look on her face before she slipped the needle back into the case.

“Let’s get you cleaned up and dressed,” I said. “We need to get as far away from the city as we can. Magdalena is waiting for you. It’s going to be alright.”

“They think I killed Shan,” she said. “And I— I don’t know. I can’t remember any of it.”

I hoisted her to her feet, and her knees buckled. I knew how much she hated being helpless so I said, “If I pick you up, we can get to the stream over there faster. Then you can hobble to your heart’s desire all the way to the Unclaimed Territory. What do you say?”

She only nodded. It wasn’t quite an answer, but I scooped her up into my arms regardless. I carried her a short distance to the stream, and the moment I set her down, she dropped to her knees and shoved her hands into the water. She splashed it over her face, drenching her hair, then I watched as she scrubbed at her skin with frantic movements.

As the stream washed the blood from her arms, it revealed dozens of jagged gouges in her flesh. They were red and angry, seeping pus and black blood. Her legs were in similar shape. With chilling dread, I recognized those wounds. They were likely self-inflicted. I remember holding Antoine down to stop him from inflicting the same wounds—he’d said it felt as if his skin wasn’t his. As if it was an offender to be gotten rid of.

The following week, he lived more in his wolf skin than his human flesh. By the end of that week, his lifeblood was on my hands.

My heart sank, and my stomach squirmed.

Aura stopped scrubbing and dropped her head. Her black and white hair veiled her face as she pressed her hands against her thighs. “I don’t want you to see me like this,” she sobbed. “I don’t even want to see myself like this.”

“Aura—”

“Put me out of my misery.” Her face was still hidden, but her defeated tone chilled my blood. Aura wasn’t one to accept defeat. She was one to go down fighting.

My eyes stung as I swallowed the tears and said sharply, “No.”

Her gaze snapped up to mine, pointed teeth bared, but there was no fire in her eyes. No fight. No hope. A broken laugh escaped her as she stared at the ruined flesh on her legs. “The irony is not lost on me. Hybrids are murdered in their cradles because they pose a threat to society. We’re the most powerful, most threatening abominations. Mongrels. Mutts.”

She held up her arms up like an offering as more black blood dribbled from her wounds. “I’m no stronger than a mortal. No less vulnerable than a pureblood. My only threat to the public is because of this infection. I am so tired of fighting myself every damn day. I hated who I was before this disease, and I hate myself more after it.” Another broken laugh. “My life’s work is the pursuit of knowledge, and now I get to die without even knowing who I am.”

“You’re just starting to learn who you are,” I said. “Which is why you can’t give up now. The world needs you. They just don’t know it yet.”

“I thought I was supposed to be the delusional one at this phase?”

I smiled and pressed a kiss to her temple. “I have bandages. Let me wrap your wounds, alright? Then we’ll get you dressed and be on our way.”

She didn’t respond. Her gaze had lowered again, but her focus wasn’t pinned on her own injuries. It was now pinned on mine. I hadn’t noticed the cuts before, but I’d run through a few brambles. Her scent shifted. Hunger. Thirst. She swallowed harshly, and I shoved my hand into the water and watched sidelong as she shook her head, as if to clear it.

I bandaged her wounds and realized very quickly that she couldn’t remain still. She was in a constant state of jitters, her hands twitching, legs bouncing up and down like a nervous tic. Still, I bandaged her to the best of my ability and helped her into Magdalena’s blouse and trousers before I quickly dressed myself, then we were on our way.

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