Page 37 of Ash and Roses
He cuts me off. “Look.” He pulls his shirt down to reveal a series of fully healed small scars that look years old.
“How is that possible?”
“My curse is different,” he says again. “Eat.”
I bring the spoon to my lips again and take another sip. My strength must be returning because it’s easier this time. The warmth it fills my stomach with is comforting. “So when you said livestock would draw in the wildlife, what you meant was…”
“Yes. Livestock was the first to go.”
“And that’s why the animals flee the forest under the first full moon.” I shake my head in disbelief. “We believed it to be a blessing from the goddess.”
He scoffs. “It is no blessing.”
“It saved my people from starving.”
His face falls at that, and his tone turns soft. “Then at least some good came of it.” Without warning, his neck arches sharply to the side and his entire body tenses in what can only be pain. It lasts only a few seconds, and then he relaxes with a long exhaled breath.
“I’ve seen you do that before. Morgan did it too.” Pieces of a puzzle I didn’t know I was assembling start coming together. I’d been told Morgan was grappling with a sickness that wasn’t shared through the air. But what about a bite?
He seems to know where my thoughts are. “My curse is different,” he says yet again, as if the more he says it, the more I will understand.
“You keep saying that. Maybe try elaborating?” I’m growing irritated with his non-answers.
He laughs softly to himself and just from that, I know I’m not getting anything more out of him. “You should get some rest. Your fever has broken, but the infection in your wound hasn’t entirely settled. Please stay in the castle tonight.”
“Now I’m not even allowed on the grounds?” The word ‘prisoner’ plays over and over in my mind. When I left Lunae, I swore I’d never be a prisoner again.
“You are. Just not during the full moon. Do I need to lock you in here?”
I resort to anger to mask the fear those words instil in me. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me.”
“I don’t plan on leaving this room anytime soon.” I don’t admit it’s because I don’t think I have the strength to walk.
“I need to hear you say it. Promise me you will not leave this castle. Swear it on your huntsman.”
The anger I was using as a mask turns genuine and my lips purse into a hard line. “Get out of my room.” I’d roll away from him if not for the steaming bowl of soup still half full in my lap.
“I misspoke. I didn’t mean—”
“Go.”
He stands, but makes no move to leave. I muster the strength to lean over and place the bowl on the small table next to the bed. He reaches to help, but I move quick enough so not to give him the satisfaction. I want him out now, and if he won’t walk out of here on his own, then I’ll throw him out myself.
The instant I put weight on my legs, they give out from under me. His arms catch mine and keep me upright. “Get your hands off me!” I jab an elbow into his stomach, but I doubt he even felt it.
He releases me and takes a step back with his hands raised, clearly hoping I don’t move to follow him. I can just keep balanced, but if I take a step, I’ll likely fall again. It’ll take more than a few spoonfuls of soup to get me steady on my feet.
“Get out,” I say again, and I don’t need to channel Arabella’s authority for once. There’s more than enough of it behind my words.
He moves for the door, but turns back to me before crossing the threshold. “Do not leave this castle.”
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
ABBY
Islept a while longer, and when I awoke again, the sky outside had lightened to the orange and yellow haze of sunset. I test my footing before climbing out of bed entirely, and move to take a seat by the window. I’ve always loved the sunset, and something about it now seems so different in this forest world. It no longer ends in a flat line, but rather jagged edges where the tips of trees—dark green and black in the low light—meld with colour.