Page 52 of To Steal the Sun

“Please!” she called, pounding on her side of the door. “Please! Is there someone there?”

She was greeted only with silence. She had taken too long to respond, and whoever had been there must have left.

Tears dripped unheeded down her cheeks, and shame filled her. She was a grown woman, and all that was needed to reduce her to this was to be locked in a small space. It made no logical sense. She knew that. But she couldn’t fight the sheer terror that had her in its grip, her younger self rising to swallow the new her.

She pounded again and again until her hands hurt, but no one responded. She was alone once again.

She slid down to sitting again, but she had regained some measure of calm. It was dark in here but not nearly as small as that dreaded closet where she had been confined for days after Easton’s banishment. She could move and stretch out. Even lie down when she got tired.

It was surprising the queen had put her in such a large space, even if it was conveniently close.

Remembering the sequence of events that had led her here wasn’t pleasant, but it helped her cling to the grip of her sanity. She had endured worse. She could endure this too. She could endure until someone came to rescue her. This time Easton would come for her.

And then the tingling started. Gwen fell forward, her mind seizing as the tearing sensation began. She was growing bigger, so much bigger, and the space was growing smaller. The walls really were closing in on her. And they wouldn’t stop. They would keep going until Gwen was squeezed to death, her bones and muscles sandwiched flat, and her life extinguished. There would be no need to wait for the hunger and the dehydration.

The scream fought its way out, coming out as a terrifying baying, howling growl that sounded horrifyingly inhuman. She would never be herself again, never be held by Easton again. She was alone. It was dark, and she was alone.

She thrashed around, no longer conscious of what she was doing, just desperate for an escape from the darkness around her and her own mind. Coherent thought had fled, and she had only wordless impressions and fear, fear, fear. So much fear.

Gwen had no idea how much time passed in that state. She had no more sense of its passage than she had rational thought. But eventually, a single image intruded.

Easton. His face appeared in her mind’s eye, driving back the darkness. He was coming to the palace to face the queen, and if Gwen stayed stuck here, he would face her alone. Another face appeared. Alma, followed by Miriam. What was her mother doing to them while Gwen remained trapped here?

Other faces crowded in. Charlotte. Natalie. Easton’s mother, who had always been kind to Gwen and now apparently lived in the city. Even Count Oswin.

The queen had tormented Gwen for years, but she had also tormented these people. If Gwen gave in completely to her panic, Celandine won. And yet…And yet…

Gwen put her head in her hands, only to find she was reaching up with paws instead of fingers. She froze, closing her eyes against the terrifying, encroaching black around her, and thought of nothing but her body. She could feel its unfamiliar shape, the pulsing strength of her muscles, and the sharp points of her claws and teeth.

Her mother thought Gwen was a victim. She shut her away thinking she would buckle and collapse. And Gwen had nearly done exactly that. But Gwen was finished being a victim. She hated the dark, and she would never like small places, but this room wasn’t her tomb. She had strength still. And it was time to use it.

With a growl that built in volume and strength, she turned to where she knew the door was. Rearing back on her hind legs, she fell forward with her full force against the wood, claws extended. It cracked. She reared back again and fell forward, paws swiping as she descended. The door splintered, one of her paws breaking through, and light burst in.

She blinked, her eyes stinging at the sudden illumination. Shutting them, she lowered her head and rammed the shards of the door. It teetered and collapsed outward, sections of the wood snapping completely.

Gwen staggered through the opening into the untouched chaos of her bedchamber. The room had never looked so beautiful to her.

She collapsed, sucking in long, sweet breaths as her eyes adjusted to the light. Then she lumbered to her feet, shaking herself. While she would always avoid small, dark places if possible, they would never have the same hold on her again—not now she had fought her way free.

She breathed in, sucking the air through her nose, and froze. Easton and Charlotte. She easily picked their scents from everything else—fresh but not immediately so. Someone had been there! It was his voice she’d heard!

But where were they now? She tensed, the lingering fear still bubbling through her veins, convincing her they must be in trouble.

The door to her room was ajar, allowing her to easily push through. I’m coming, she thought silently, lifting her snout to sniff the air.

Easton’s scent was fainter out here, harder to pinpoint. But Charlotte’s seemed fresh. Gwen followed it to the door of a random, unused bedchamber on the opposite side of the corridor. She frowned. What could Charlotte have been doing there?

She didn’t seem to have gone inside, though. Her scent continued down the corridor toward Henry’s room instead, which made far more sense. Gwen followed, the physical activity driving out the remaining trembling and weakness in her limbs.

She stopped outside Henry’s room. Should she try to open the door? But Charlotte’s scent lingered in the corridor, and it was joined by a new one. Gwen frowned, considering. Unlike Charlotte and Easton, she had never smelled Henry while in her bear form. But something about the new scent felt vaguely familiar. If she had to guess, she thought it was him.

Intrigued, Gwen hurried faster, following the scent of the two of them. It wasn’t part of the plan for Charlotte to free Henry at this point. What had been happening in her absence?

A third scent appeared, triggering a low growl. The new one was unfamiliar, but it screamed of a threat. Here in the palace, an unknown bear could only mean one thing. Charlotte and Henry were being pursued.

Gwen broke into a lumbering run, bumping against walls as she rounded corners, her ears picking up the distant sound of overlapping growls. She pushed herself still faster.

She reached a familiar intersection, the sounds and smells coming from the dead end on the left. She didn’t hesitate as she raced around the final corner.