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I leaned into his strength. “Me, too. But it doesn’t change anything.”
“I know.” When he pulled back, there was a sadness in his eyes that took my breath away. “Believe me, I know. I’ll make this as short-lived and bearable for you as I can.”
“I’m so glad that you took me on all those years ago. You make this better. I don’t tell you often enough.”
“You don’t have to say it because I feel the same. I would’ve faded into the beyond without you. And I will endeavor to keep making it better every day as much as I’m able.” He stepped away from me. “I’ll be back.”
“I’ll be ready.”
When the door closed behind him, I gave myself exactly thirty seconds to wallow before packing.
Court of Gales? This was going to be a disaster. One that would end in bloodshed, but hopefully not too much of my own. Which should provide a hearty distraction from my heartbreak.
Chapter Seven
CHRIS
I beat on the doors, begging someone to let me out, for a good ten, twenty, who knew how many minutes before realizing that no one was coming and I was making myself look like an idiot. So I paced. Even though my legs were tired from walking the dunes all day, I paced back and forth across the room, around the bed, into the bathroom and then circled back around. I kept moving until I wasn’t sure I could walk anymore. And then I did push-ups until my arms shook and my face hit the floor. I had to make myself tired enough that I could sit still, and I wouldn’t stop until I crashed.
Being a werewolf meant that it took a while to find the end of my strength, but I finally found the end after countless burpees. I was officially tired. The kind of tired that made my muscles throb and ache and would only be cured by a big juicy steak and sleep. But apparently the steak wasn’t going to happen. Not here. And sleeping in the glorified cave/prison cell was proving to be harder than I’d thought even given the exhaustion.
I rolled onto my stomach and pushed my head under the pillows, hoping to block out the feeling that I was trapped, but my wolf was quietly, insistently urging me to run, run, run. Fight, fight, fight. But there was nowhere to run. Nothing to fight. What I needed was sleep.
Sleep.
The wolf growled at me, and I could feel him rising up.
Shut up.
I rolled onto my back and kicked off the covers. The mattress was soft, the sheets were made from fine-spun silk, the pillows cradled my head, but my wolf and I were in agreement about one thing: We’d rather sleep among the dunes.
I wouldn’t even complain about the sand whipping into my face all night long. At least there I would’ve been able to see the stars and moon. Hear something other than my own too-quick heartbeat slamming in my ears. And I wouldn’t feel like the walls were closing in on me until my body felt wound tight, tight, so tight that the hot, heavy air threatened to suffocate me.
I closed my eyes, trying to feel for any breeze, but the room was tomb still. My wolf wanted me to shift. Wanted to beat down the door. Wanted to find Cosette. But this room was made of fey magic, and no amount of brute strength would get me out of here. And I wouldn’t give my wolf control. Not here. Not now.
But we’d spent too many nights locked underground. Too many nights held captive. Until the last time almost killed us.
Being here brought too many long-buried feelings to the surface. So many that I felt like I was hanging from a cliff while trying to keep my wolf from going feral. Both of us were struggling to separate this room from the pit in the ground, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could hold on.
My fingers lengthened as I fought his panicked demand to slam into the door until either it broke or I did. But I never, ever gave him control, and I wasn’t about to start today.
I rolled again, this time into a ball with my forehead pressed against the mattress. This had to stop. I needed to sleep. But there was no one to joke with here. No one to flirt with. The room had books, but no blank paper. No pencils. No charcoal. No dirt to draw in.
But there was one thing I did have.
I closed my eyes and pictured Cosette. The way the light glittered just a little around her. The sweetness of her moonlit scent. The softness of her dark-blonde curls.
This wasn’t like all the other times I’d been locked up. This was different. This was for Cosette. If I focused on it—if I focused on her—then everything else wouldn’t matter. Because it was different.
I wanted to save Cosette, and if being trapped under the earth one more time was all it took to help her, then I was getting off easy.
My mind started to focus on memories. The tinkling sound of her laughter. The way we saw through each other’s facade like it was made of mist. The way I could lie next to her, drawing for hours under the sunlight in the woods while she read a book, and feel totally at peace…
Slowly my body started to relax—muscle by muscle—until the tide of dreams rose high enough, sucking me down into a past I never wanted to relive.
I was trapped. Trapped again. I’d betrayed my pack and was being punished, but if I saved even one life, then it would be worth it.
Please, God. Let it be worth it. Or don’t let me live to see what comes next.
