Page 36 of Ash and Roses
His eyes meet mine, and I can almost swear there’s a slight glossiness to them, but when he blinks, it’s gone. “I was supposed to be.”
“I never knew my mother. She died when I was born.” I don’t know why I share that with him. It’s not something I talk about, but my words seem to help.
“Part of me feels as if that would be better. The memories of her are painful.”
“It’s not better. I may have never met mine, but I miss her. I don’t think knowing her would change anything.”
He nods before his face hardens with purpose. “Will you allow me to fetch you some food? There is something we must discuss, and I’d prefer not to do it with you in such a state.”
I must look as bad as I feel. “The last time you wanted to talk, it was code for banishing me.”
“I never banished you.”
“You didn’t get the chance.”
“You saw to that with your fainting spell, didn’t you?” He pinches the bridge of his nose in an effort to rein in his temper. “Just let me get some food in you. When you’re stronger, you can argue with me all you like.”
“Fine,” I snap back, not caring what he does. What is it about him that makes me so angry?
He returns only a few minutes later with a small bowl in his hands. It smells divine and my stomach rumbles in desperation. I hadn’t noticed the hunger before, but now it has my full attention. I’m accustomed to chronic hunger, but this feels as if I haven’t eaten a thing in days.
I sit up more in the bed and he places the bowl in my lap. I reach for the wooden spoon, but my hands are embarrassingly shaky. I see him eyeing them, though he has the sense to keep his mouth shut. “No, I will not allow you to feed me.” I struggle to get control of myself, and manage to bring a spoonful of broth to my lips without spilling it.
He rolls his eyes. “I’ll just talk then. You’ve been in and out of consciousness for three days.”
“That long?” No wonder I’m famished. I try to think back to my faint moments of consciousness and push past the memory of pain and focus on the voices. A memory finds me and my eyes narrow. “Did you call me bony at one point?”
He frowns. “I did not, though I certainly thought it. Don’t you have mirrors in Lunae?” If I had the energy to smack his arm, I would. He changes the subject before I have the chance to try. “The moon will be full tonight.”
That has meaning to me, but why is he mentioning it? “Planning to take me stargazing?”
I wouldn’t have believed his lips could press tighter together if I didn’t see it myself. “Quite the opposite.”
“You really suck at this talking thing. Get to the point.”
His eyes close in thought. “You know there’s a curse on this land.”
“I’ve heard mention, though I’ve seen no evidence of it.”
“You have. You just didn’t realize it.” He brushes a nervous hand through his dark hair. “The people of this kingdom change during the days the moon is at its fullest.”
“They change?”
“The wolf that attacked you when you fled. That was Morgan. He’s new to this land, and the first few changes are sporadic. He shifted early. Everyone else—save for you and I—will shift tonight. Some have already.”
“I think this is a fever dream. People don’t turn into wolves.”
“Everything I’ve told you is true. I wanted you away from Rosewood and out of the forest before the full moon, but we’re out of time. You will have to stay here until it’s safe for you to leave.”
“If the land is cursed, how do you know we won’t change?”
“For a while, I thought you might. That fever… But I was wrong. You weren’t bitten, so you won’t change.”
“And you?”
“My curse is different. Part of it is to witness my people change over and over and know that I can do nothing to save them.”
Realization hits me like a tree branch to the face. “But you were bitten! Your shoulder, you were—”