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I ask it without thinking, the question slipping out almost of its own accord, and I know from the way he winces that he can feel my hurt behind the words.
'I know I betrayed you by leaving like that, but the nightwalkers have been good to me. They don't-'
'I didn't declare war on the vampires.'
His thought cuts through my own like a hot knife sliding through butter. His tail flicks in frustration, ears twitching. I quirk my head to the side, and this time I'm the one that's confused.
'But the yellow tansies...' I reply, glancing over my shoulder at the petals crushed on the stone bridge.
'They were meant to be a warning, not a threat. War is coming, little flower, but I am not the one who is starting it.'
I don't understand. A red rose or tulip means love. Begonias mean beware. Yellow tansies mean war.
I thought I was an expert in deriving meaning from flowers, but perhaps I misinterpreted.
What was he trying to tell me?
Before I can ask him, my father clears his throat in that polite, awkward manner of his, buttoning up his jacket and straightening himself out.
"I believe a truce is in order," he says out loud, his tone unnaturally calm and controlled, considering he was just engaged in battle against a werewolf that almost tore his throat out. "We all have a great deal to talk about, and I may not trust you, King of Rogues, but I trust my daughter. For her sake, you and your friends are welcome to join us in the castle. No combat, just conversation."
Tristsan's eyes narrow as he looks between my father and me. He doesn't know what to believe, and neither do I anymore. I thought I was protecting the people I love. I thought I was doing the right thing, but somehow I only managed to make things worse.
No more.
'Please, my king... Tristan... Let me make things right. I know I don't deserve your trust, but I am asking you for it nonetheless. Give me a chance to explain everything.'
Marco sighs, sensing Tristan's hesitation. "I swear on my daughter's heart and on my honor as Night King, no harm will come to you and your friends in my court. That is, so long as you don't try to kill me again."
The golden-eyed wolf huffs in response as if to say 'fair enough.'
From behind him, a familiar, high-pitched voice calls out across the distance, and I almost smile to myself on the inside.
"Are you guys done with the fighting and intense staring?" Lucy yells from the other side of the bridge. The Rovers' inner circle has been watching from the sidelines, waiting for orders from their leader. But it seems they are tired of waiting. "Nico is getting cold, and I have questions!"
Mark gives his sister an angry shove to silence her, and even from this far away, I can hear Nico chuckling. I look back at Tristan and feel myself relax as his expression softens.
The worst is over.
Now, we talk. Now, I tell him the whole truth. Now, he gets to decide what comes next for us.
No more holding back.
Chapter Nineteen
In the aftermath of the excitement on the bridge, Tristan and his inner circle are allowed into the court of the nightwalkers. My father graciously gives everyone some time to collect themselves, which includes me shifting back into my human form.
The change comes easily, intuitively, but even as I return to my old body, I can still feel the effects of the transformation. Whatever shifted inside of me goes beyond skin deep, and in my human form, I can still feel the spirit of my wolf. It settles within me, a wild animal making itself at home inside my soul after a lifetime in dormant captivity.
Helena brings me a new outfit after my transformation shredded through my old clothes and informs me that the Rovers have been given a room in the castle. They have been provided with food and water as well as warm clothes. Once we're ready, we are to gather in the war room to discuss... well... everything.
I thank the nightwalker healer with a small smile before she leaves. Before getting dressed, I walk over to the window of my room. Outside, the forest is still littered with tents filled with an army of werewolves that are ready for a battle I hope will never come. I shut the window and examine my reflection in the glass, feeling a pang at the sight of the crescent-shaped mark on my chest.
I've changed a lot in the past few months. My sandy blonde hair is longer, going down to my waist, and there's a healthy shine to it I never had while living with the Banes. My skin is still pale, but there's a healthy glow to it, and there are no longer dark circles under my eyes despite the confusing sleep schedule of the nightwalkers. My hunger-panged frame has filled in after my time with the Rovers, and while I still have a small frame, I'm no longer skin and bone. Instead, there are soft curves along my body and muscles from my training with Amara.
But the damned mark is still there.
All the growth and healing with the Rovers, feeding for the first time, manifesting my wolf... none of it was enough to erase the curse that was tied to my very existence.
