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I stepped to the side to give her room, having no desire to even try to stop her. Besides, if this got physical at all, there was a slight chance she’d find out what was in my bag. I didn’t want to be turned in for something that wasn’t my fault. I’d just take this thing deep into the woods and either bury it or burn it. I just had to figure out which would work. There were rumors that some grimoires couldn’t just easily be destroyed. That some would only break down and evaporate into nothing once the entire bloodline of the witch or warlock family was gone. That way, their precious spells could forever be kept in secret.
I was my mother’s daughter, which meant this one was going nowhere unless something happened to me or Jasper. Because he had our bloodline running in his veins too. The thought of Jasper made me squirm, and my heart skipped a few beats before sinking into the pit of my stomach to settle uncomfortably. What if something happened to them? How was I supposed to deal with losing all three at once?
Bile rose in my throat, and I had to push it down, not wanting to vomit in front of Olga. That would be more questions I had no desire to go about figuring answers out for.
Olga shoved items into a bag, and I swore I caught sight of a book, a simple one, by the quick glance I had of it. Pursing my lips, I watched as she hoisted her bag over her shoulder and turned to face me, her jaw set.
“If I find out you did this—”
“I came in here to see it like this,” I cut her off briskly, my shoulders tensing. “Why would I want in your stuff anyway? Hiding anything, Olga?”
The color in her cheeks drained a little, and something flashed in her eyes. It hit me then. I wasn’t the only one with secrets. Olga might have had her own grimoire, a family heirloom, or one crafted by herself. She didn’t say anything but instead stepped toward the door. I moved to the side, barricading her path.
“What are you hiding, Olga?”
Her nostrils flared, but she said nothing as she pushed past me, slamming her shoulder into mine. Turning, I watched as she left the bunk, but the door only swung toward closed before it was caught by a clawed hand inches before it could slam closed.
“Thought I’d find you here,” he spat out as he stepped over the threshold, eyes narrowing at me. “Did you really think you could get away from me?”
“Someone ransacked our bunk,” I commented, ignoring his question entirely, and motioned around.
He had nothing to do with my words and simply kept yellowed eyes on me, his chest rising and falling rapidly in anger that he was trying to contain so he would, no doubt, not release his wolf upon me.
“You know, before I left, one of the members of my village was attacked by a rogue wolf. Know anything about that, wolfy?” I half teased, the corners of my lips twitching as his nostrils flared again.
He snarled and stalked toward me. I kept my feet planted, daring him to try anything. Healers were vital to the war, in the part that kept the soldiers alive and going back in to fight. If he did anything to harm me, he would be in trouble. But as he got within inches of my face, something squirmed inside of me. It wasn’t fear to back up; it wasn’t flight to flee. It was… curiosity. Curiosity bubbled inside me, and I couldn’t stop the images of him leaning down and pressing his lips against mine, feeling his hand on my hip, and pressing against the wall as he pushed me back in desire, our lips never once unlocking. I shoved those thoughts out of my mind, pulling Timothy forward. Sweet Timothy, who merely wanted a life with me, to make me his wife and mother of his children. Though, that thought made me feel sad. I didn’t want to settle. I wanted to travel and be part of the world. I wanted to help, to fight.
His face evaporated in my mind and was replaced by the image of the wolf kissing me, his lips trailing down my neck… No! I couldn’t think that way. I couldn’t allow myself to fall prey to such thoughts.
I broke eye contact first as I tugged my gaze away from him, gripping the strap of my bag hard, and digging my nails into it.
“What do you want?”
“I told you, you were told, you are my charge. It’s my duty to protect you. You’re a healer, so that’s what I have to do. Especially when we leave.”
My eyes flickered up to his. “Are we going out in the field?”
His jaw ticked. “The war field?” When I nodded, he shook his head. “Not exactly. We’re going out in the world first. Your training starts there. We will be going from village to village to help. A soldier, a healer, and a forester. We will be in groups, but we will each have our own little group at the same time. You and some forester are my charges.” He turned sharply on his heel. “Let’s go.”
“Do you know the forester in our group?”
He shrugged. “Not until the day we leave,” he stated gruffly, beckoning me to follow.
I hesitated, but after a moment, I stepped over what I was now sure was a broken lamp and begrudgingly followed him. Glancing over my shoulder at the mess that was the bunk now, I had a strange feeling about the whole thing. As I moved toward him, completely distracted, I missed the wall as I hit it, sending me toppling backward. Crashing to the ground, a little dazed, I shook my head, blinking profusely as I looked up. The wolf stood in front of the door, his attention back on me, looking completely bewildered by my sudden inability to walk. Because there was no wall between us.
The hairs on my arms and the back of my neck stood up, the sizzling ripping through the bunk, burning in my nostrils.
Scrambling to my feet, I reached out, but only air greeted me. A shiver ran down my spine, telling me exactly what I wanted to know. It was a fleeting touch, but it was enough. It had been a powerful witch in here, going through all the things. Looking for something. My fingers twitched on the strap of my bag. I had a pretty good idea of who it was and what they were looking for.
But why did she want my mother’s grimoire so badly? What was so damn special about this specific grimoire? Why did Valencia want it so badly that she went to these lengths to get it? I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to the story than she’d let on, and I needed to figure out what it was before it was too late.
I couldn’t now, though. Not with prying eyes watching my every move. Stepping forward, I held my head up as I walked past Wolfy and back out to have those fanged creature's eyes snap at me, watching me. With Wolfy behind me, however, they didn’t dare try anything. None dared approach but instead simply watched me warily. Could they hear my erratic beating or smell the sweat that ran down the back of my neck? I was carrying a banned item in my possession, after all. Sure, I was trying to weasel my way into the war field, and that would probably be some sort of crime itself, but this was beyond illegal. I would be punished and stripped of my powers if it was found out I had this book.
Which was exactly why no one could find out I had it.
I couldn’t even tell Carli, and I told her everything. But she’d want me to turn it in, putting myself in the line of fire. I was as good as dead by that point. Carli was a good person, always wanting to do the good things.
I needed coffee. I needed to clear my head. Maybe food too. I needed to be able to think straight because there was nothing but a torrent of questions swarming in my mind. It was a tornado, ready to cripple me with one thing going wrong.
