Page 38 of Ash and Roses
Movement on the ground catches my eye. There are people—those yet to turn, if what Quinn said earlier is to be believed. I watch them intently, curious to see just what curse grips them under the light of a full moon. There’s only about ten of them, spread out as they cross the valley towards the tree line. This would have seemed like an innocent evening stroll if it weren’t for the fact that they were stripping their clothes off and leaving shirts and pants and dresses behind them in careless heaps.
My cheeks flush and the polite thing to do would be to look away, but I don’t. If this ‘curse’ is mass psychosis, then I need to know about it. I’m not sure what would be worse. Wolves are dangerous, of course, but people can be too.
It doesn’t take long for one of them to drop to their knees. With the ever-growing dimness of night and the distance between us, it’s difficult to see with any great detail, but it seems as if the person is experiencing some sort of convulsions. None of the others pay her any mind as her guttural screams pierce the air. Many disappear into the trees before their cries join the symphony, but two others drop before they make it.
The cries morph into something between human and animal as flesh tears and fur breaks free. The cracking of bones reaches me even here and twists my stomach. I’m not certain I believed Quinn, but even if a small part of me did, I could never have imagined that it was anything like this.
One of the people—no, wolves—lets out a howl and the other two join in. They run to each other, snapping their jaws in a violent display. Will they harm each other, or is this just wolf behaviour?
I lean further out the window to get a better look at them. Their coats are each a different shade of brown, varying from russet to what could almost be black. None are silver like the monster that attacked me, but that doesn’t mean it couldn’t have been one of the wolves.
I lean a bit too far and pull back abruptly, knocking over the candle I’d placed on the windowsill. “Shit,” I hiss as it falls to the ground three stories below. I can see that it’s gone out, so at least I don’t have to worry about setting the castle on fire, but scan the ground below, anyway. I don’t want to spend hours looking for it whenever Quinn says it’s safe to go outside.
My search for the candle is short-lived when a barking growl draws my attention back to the wolves. The three of them are staring up at me, teeth bared and nocturnal eyes glistening in the faded evening light. They move closer in tandem, their attention never once breaking from me, and I’ve never been so thankful to be a prisoner behind walls of wood and stone. There’s no way they can reach me here.
The russet wolf jumps for the trellis of snaking ivy and falls after successfully climbing a few steps. I back away from the window because if it can make it that far, who’s to say it won’t make it inside? There are no shutters on my window, and even if there were, there’s no guarantee I’ll be safe.
I’mthe livestock now.
I dart out of the room and down the corridor, still unsteady on my feet but maintaining enough balance not to stumble. It’s darker than usual as only some of the hall torches are lit, likely because there’s no castle staff here to maintain them. I don’t know where I’m going, but anywhere is better than here. I just want a room with no windows. A safe interior room with a locking door to hide behind until this nightmare ends. Some people shifted before they made it to the forest, so what if some of them are still inside the castle? If even one animal is prowling these halls…
And what of Quinn? He’d been so sure he wouldn’t turn, but he too was bitten. His fast healing means nothing. If anything, that should be further proof that something is wrong with him. He can take ‘my curse is different’ and shove it up his—
There’s a noise down the corridor ahead of me, just beyond the corner. My instincts scream at me to turn around and run the other way. There’s nowhere to go. Back to my chambers isn’t an option and there’s nowhere to hide between there and here.
My heart beats erratically in my chest and I feel as if adrenaline is the only thing keeping me moving now. There’s a closed door to my right, and I have no idea where it leads, but I force it open anyway and shut myself inside. I run to the far wall and curl up in the corner, hugging my legs tight against my chest. There’s a window in here, but I can’t worry about that now because there’s something just outside the door. Two shadowy lines interrupt the torchlight outside and the door clicks open.
A scream rips through me.
“Abby?!”
“Jade?” I gasp and jump to my feet, throwing myself at the figure and wrapping my arms tightly around him. When he doesn’t hug me back, the pain of that loss hits me all over again. I let the man go and drop to the ground, no longer bothering to keep my emotions in check. The tears flow freely now, leaving salty trails down my cheeks.
“Abby.” Quinn’s voice is soft. He crouches down in front of me and places warm hands against my back. The warmth of him pulls me in, and before I know it, I’m fully sobbing against his chest. He lets me, staying silent and unmoving. When I regain enough self-control to pull away and bring my eyes to his, there’s a question looming in them.
“The wolves,” I sniff and wipe a stray tear from my eye. “They tried to get in my window.”
His body stiffens a fraction, but his eyes remain soft. “They can’t get inside.”
“How do you know that? They’re hunting me. They’re going to rip me apart like—” I cut off with another sob, either unable or unwilling to say his name.
“Do you trust me?”
“No.”
He chuckles. How is he laughing right now? “Fair enough, but I can take you somewhere nothing will reach you. Even if they swarm the castle—which they won’t—you’ll be safe.”
I study his face for a long moment and see nothing but honesty. “Okay.”
He offers me a hand to help me up, but I brush it away and clamber to my feet on my own. I’m trembling and the tears are cold on my cheeks, but at least they’ve stopped falling. I follow close behind him, anxiety spiking at every sound and shadow. His demeanour is perfectly calm and self-assured, but it does little to ease the quaking within me. He walks these darkened halls as if it were nothing—as if there weren’t sixty wolves outside fully prepared to tear us to pieces.
“Here we are,” he says, coming to a stop in the middle of a corridor I’ve never ventured. Or, at least, I don’t think I have. Everything looks the same here, and I have an abysmal sense of direction.
“A bookcase?” Is this his idea of a joke? There’s not even a room here, never mind a wolf-proof sanctuary.
He glances at me before pressing his weight up against the side of the bookcase. It groans before something clicks and the entire shelf shifts sideways to reveal a door. This one opens with little effort. It’s too dark to see much of the cluttered space, but I can just make out what looks like an enormous bed, writing desk, walls lined with bookshelves, and a cozy corner fireplace.
Quinn gestures for me to go in first, but leaves the door open wide behind us. For a moment, I don’t think he’s coming in, but after a steadying breath he joins me and begins stacking a few dry pieces of wood in the fireplace. He makes quick work of it and has no trouble sparking the fire with the starter. It roars to life, devouring the dry wood and sending flickers of light and shadow across the room. In the light, he looks tired.