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I internally sigh in frustration. “So, what am I supposed to do now?”
His teeth pierce his lip as he curves his arm around my hip, sets a hand on the railing and slants closer to me. “You could always try to kiss me in real life.”
“I don’t mean with the kissing.” I place my palm on his chest to push him back, noting how fast his heart is racing. “I mean, what am I supposed to do now that I’m in your kingdom?”
“It’s your kingdom, too.” His gaze flits to my lips before he lets out a soft sigh. Then he pushes himself back and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “I thought maybe I could give you a tour of the kingdom today and answer the questions I know you have. I’d also like to introduce you to a few wolves, if you’re comfortable with it.”
“Your parents?” I wonder.
He flinches then shakes his head. “The king is currently visiting another pack and won’t return until next week.” His formal tone lacks emotion. “As for my mom, she’s currently on bedrest. Has been for about five years, ever since the land became poisoned.”
“The land’s poisoned?” I glimpse over my shoulder at the field. “With the vines?”
“Yeah … How did you know that?”
“Legend told me when we entered the realm that there were vines everywhere. He told me not to touch them.”
He nods. “If you do, you’ll get sick. Like my mom.”
My heart pings with agony. “Where did the vines come from? Legend said something about them spreading, but that they weren’t always here.”
“They weren’t.” He moves beside me and squints against the sunlight as he gazes at the land. “About eight years ago, they suddenly started growing. At first, we didn’t think too much of it and had the gardeners pull them out. But, by the next day, they’d grown back and had doubled in size. We quickly learned that the more we tried to get rid of them, the bigger they grew, so we stopped having them pulled. Figured they were harmless enough. That they were just thorns.” He rests his arms on the railing. “About three years after they appeared, the soil beneath them began to wilt and blacken. We realized too late that the thorns were poisoning the dirt. The same dirt that surrounds the lake where our kingdom gets its drinking water.”
My heart clenches in my chest. “Did … Did it poison everyone?”
He slowly shakes his head. “No, we found out quickly enough that only a handful of wolves had ingested it.”
“What happened to those wolves?”
“They got sick. A couple of them died.” He sinks into sorrowful silence. “My mom was one of the ones who got sick. And she’s remained sick for the last five years. Every year, on the same day she became infected, her health takes a small dip for the worst. It’s like clockwork every year, which has some speculating that the land is cursed by magic.” His jawline spasm. “My father doesn’t buy into that theory, though. He thinks the weeds were planted by another pack. So, instead of trying to find a witch to look into the curse theory, he spends his time pointlessly moving from pack to pack and questioning their leaders. Eventually, if we can’t figure out a way to get rid of the vines, they’ll end up taking over the land.”
“That’s… awful…”Is it Lake? Do you really like it here? A land where werewolves roam?
But your parents lived here too. And so did you once.
“It is, but until we can figure out where the vines come from and how to get rid of them, there’s nothing we can do about it. And unfortunately, my father doesn’t seem to care very much about it. Even for my mom’s sake.”
“I’m sorry.” Unsure what else to do, I place a hand on his arm. “I mean, that your mom’s sick. That’s got to be hard.”
He stares down at my hand on his arm with a crinkle at his brow. “You don’t need to be sorry. You’ve suffered through way worse than I ever have.”
“I guess so, but I don’t really remember any of it.” Eventually, I will, though, I realize then. At least, according to Jules, which means I’ll relive what happened the day my parents were murdered and the day my memory was wiped.
A shiver courses through my body. What if what I see is nothing but blood-splattered memories straight out of a horror movie? After all, Jules said my parents were attacked by werewolves.
I wrap my free arm around my waist, recalling how my wounds wept blood the day I was attacked. So much blood. All over me. All over the ground. All over Legend. My blood.
I would’ve died if Legend hadn’t used his vampire super speed to run me to the hospital. It took over a hundred stitches to patch me up. The scars that remain aren’t pretty, but they do remind me of the harm paranormals—werewolves—can cause. Up until now, I’ve used that reminder to keep my distance from most magical creatures. But, look at me now, standing on a balcony, with my hand on a werewolf’s arm. I wonder if that makes me weak or strong.
“Hey, it’s going to be okay.” Jules lays a hand over mine, careful not to let the silver rings connect with my skin. “We use a different source of drinking water now. And as long as you stay off the land, in the field with the thorns, you’ll be all right.”
That worry hadn’t once crossed my mind, but I guess it’s nice to know.
“Is there a cure for the sickness your mom has?”
He rotates his body to face me and folds his ring-less hand around mine. “Not that I know of, but my father hasn’t been very invested in finding a cure. He’s too busy roaming from pack to pack, questioning the leaders about the vines. Or so he says.”
“Have you ever thought of searching for a cure yourself?”
