Lycan Legacy (A Soulmark Series Book 5), page 28
“The Moon Order won’t convene over a fairy,” she finally spits, her eyes gleaming victoriously. “And the Celestial Court has already ruled on the matter.”
“You’re right,” Xander responds coolly, “they won’t convene over a fairy. But they will for an alpha.”
Lucy’s brows pinch together. “No amount of bitching and whining to the Order will—”
Xander holds up a hand, halting Lucy’s speech. “If you cooperate and help us in reversing the effects of the tonic, I may be inclined to reconcile the matter directly with your alpha.”
“She’s just a fairy,” Lucy snaps, shaking her head. “She’ll wake up… eventually.” Lucy ends her statement with a smirk.
The first traces of Xander’s anger slip past his carefully built mask. I shift uncomfortably in my seat as the anger rolls through the pack bonds.
“You weren’t listening carefully enough before,” he tells her. His voice is dangerously soft. “Your attack wasn’t carried out against a fairy but an alpha.”
Lucy sucks in a sharp breath with realization, her eyes snapping to me. “You had one job, Winter. How could you possibly manage to fuck it up? How?”
She lurches toward me, but she doesn’t make it out of her seat with Callie standing behind her at the ready. Lucy grunts as she is slammed back into her chair.
“Well?” Lucy snarls, still looking to me for an explanation.
I redirect my sights to the other side of the room, feeling more than just Lucy’s glare digging into the side of my face. I tremble at the urge to speak, but bite my tongue instead.
“The ‘how’ isn’t important, because the fact remains that my fiancée is in some supernatural coma—and it’s your pack’s fault.”
Lucy doesn’t answer. She lets the minutes pass by until I can no longer ignore making some assessment of her features. When I turn my regard back her way, I instantly encounter her dark eyes. A slow smile curves across her lips at my reaction.
“I’d argue the blame lies on Winter’s shoulders. After all, she didn’t have to deliver the tonic.”
“Nor did you have to deliver the tonic to Winter, unless your alphas commanded you to do so. In which case, the blame rests solely on your alphas’ shoulders,” Xander replies. “Now tell me,” he commands, plowing forward when Lucy opens her mouth to speak. “How do we reverse the effects of the tonic? Why do your alphas seek to tear down our territories borders and side with the Wselfwulfs?”
Lucy’s chin quivers as she clenches her jaw. Xander’s questions are thick with the commanding power of the alpha, but Lucy valiantly fights against it. My parents must have their own stringent orders in place to keep their motives secret.
“I’ll take this as your decision not to cooperate. Atticus, get the serum.” Atticus doesn’t hesitate to obey the command and exits the room. “Do you know what lunaria is, Lucy?” Xander asks.
The she-wolf remains steadfast in her silence. Xander smiles grimly.
“It’s a plant that when broken down to extract its essence can be used as a truth serum. Thanks to our friends in the Trinity Coven, we are well stocked and know how to use it. Under different circumstance, I might offer you the choice to ingest it through food or drink… but your combative behavior leaves me no other option than the other, more direct option. Atticus is fetching the syringe now.”
“You can’t do this to me,” Lucy snarls at him, her eyes wild with fury and a touch of fear.
“I can.”
Lucy turns to me. “Winter, are you seriously going to let them go through with this? Do you have any idea what your parents will do when they find out you were complicit in this?”
My jaw ticks in restraint, and my gaze darts to Xander in dismay. Unable to speak out or act as I wish is torture, but whispers in my mind tell me the punishment is deserved, even if it hurts. The dark thoughts smooth away as the alpha's orders replay in my head.
Don't dwell on your emotions... I want you rational and collected—that’s an order.
My eyes shutter closed as I sink back into the couch.
“Selfish until the very end,” she spits. “Don’t worry, Winter. I’m sure Juniper will last at least a year or two with Jeffrey.”
My eyes snap open at the threat, the wolf pushing past Xander’s orders long enough to deliver a strangled growl before retreating.
“Winter,” Xander barks. I shake as his earlier orders curl over me like some fist.
I’m sure Xander intends to say more, but the door to the study opens. Atticus enters, pausing a moment as the door closes behind him to assess the room. A concerned frown graces his brow as he looks between my taut figure and Xander’s strict form.
“Keenan, make sure she doesn’t move. Atticus, administer the serum.”
Neither wolf hesitates. Lucy puts up a struggle, enough so that Callie wordlessly joins the fray to pin down her legs as Keenan keeps her in her seat. After the serum is delivered, Lucy is left panting.
Hatred and resentment come off of her person in palpable waves. Xander waits a full minute before he begins his interrogation, letting the lunaria seep into her system fully.
“Have you made contact with your pack since fleeing Hayes’ house?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Lucy attempts to fight the effects of the serum, her mouth opening and closing in rapid succession before she concedes to its effects. “Knox.”
“What was in the tonic?”
“I don’t know,” she says.
“How do we reverse it?”
Lucy shoots daggers at Xander, but a gleam of vengeance sparks in her eyes. “I don’t know,” she responds.
Xander’s stoic facade flickers. His green eyes narrow on my cousin. “Who will know?”
“My alphas.”
Her answer makes Xander give a short growl. “Of course they will,” he all but seethes. Xander takes in a deep breath before he settles down. “Do they realize the full ramifications of such an act? This was a premeditated act of violence on our allies in an attempt to eliminate our border.”
Lucy gives a shrug, but it doesn’t come off as nonchalant, as I’m sure she would like. “They wouldn’t have gone through with it if they didn’t consider all of the ramifications.”
“Jesus Christ,” Kennan mutters. I watch as he spares Xander a brief, incredulous look. Then the burly man crosses his arms over his chest and glares at the back of Lucy’s head. “Your pack has no honor.”
The words are harsh enough that even I recoil.
“Why are they willing to risk a war?” Xander asks, trace amounts of genuine curiosity peeking through his voice. Lucy scoffs, her eyes rolling up.
“Why would I know? That’s the alphas’ business—not mine.”
“Tell me why you think they’re willing to risk going to war.”
Lucy stares back in confusion, her eyes dart nervously to me and back to Xander’s imposing figure. I arch a brow back, keeping my face otherwise neutral.
“I… I don’t know,” she says with mild exasperation. “Probably because you’re set to ruin the entire foundation of lycankind. You’re so determined to be different and buck tradition that you don’t see the ripples your actions have had on the rest of the packs who’ve heard of your disobedience. Well-ordered and maintained packs are breaking up. Wolves aren’t respecting the hierarchy—”
“Change is inevitable. If we are the catalyst, so be it.”
Lucy eyes him with contempt. Her silky hair falls half in front of her face as she leans forward. “So arrogant… it will be your downfall.”
Xander ignores her commentary, plowing on. “How long will the effects of the tonic last?”
Lucy shrugs, another snark smile making its way onto her lips. “A few days… maybe longer. The tonic was meant for the fairy, you imbecile. Not a witch. Hopefully, she’ll never come to—”
Xander’s hand wraps around Lucy's throat. Her words cut off with a choking noise as she attempts to jerk out of his hold. Xander only bares his teeth.
“Xander.” Atticus steps forward. He places a placating hand on his shoulder to urge him back. Xander goes reluctantly, eyes speared with gold as he glares at my coughing cousin.
“Get her out of my sight.”
Keenan and Callie rush to obey, hustling Lucy out from her chair. Triumph reigns her features, but when her eyes land on me they gain a dangerous gleam.
“Oh, Atticus,” she simpers mockingly. “Don’t forget to ask my cousin about the other little curse. I’d hate for you to hold out hope for some kind of happily ever after.”
They haul her out, and I dare not look back at the men behind me.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Atticus barks.
All is Fair
Chapter 16
There is something far worse to a deliberate measure of silence than one of awkward strain. The air becomes stretched thin between the occupants inhabiting the space and somehow riddled with electricity.
Knowing it’s only a matter of time before the silence breaks—erupts—is a different kind of torture. And yet, knowing there is nothing that can be done to stop or deter the breaking leaves one feeling oddly at peace. Because if nothing else you know the silence will come to an end.
My eyes stay glued to the scenery outside the passenger window. They lock onto some far-off point until all that registers in my vision are stretches of white and blurs of the streetlights. A soft exhalation is driven from my mouth. It clouds the window momentarily and has the unpleasant side effect of refocusing my gaze upon my reflection as the condensation slowly fades.
At least I’m no longer walking the sword's edge.
I allow my gaze to shutter momentarily. I might not be walking the sword’s edge anymore, trying to decide what to do and who to hurt, but now I’m deep into the fall. The talk at Xander’s makes my perilous descent even more pronounced. Now there is nothing for me to reach out and grab on to. There is nothing and no one to support me.
The replay alone makes me ill.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Atticus barks.
The door closes with a bang. I startle at the sound and take a step away from Atticus’s hostile regard. My mouth runs dry as it opens to explain.
“What other curse?” Atticus demands. My mouth snaps shut.
Why the hell did Lucy say that? First, she corners me into revealing the lycan curse origin, apparently on my mother’s behest, and now this? I cannot believe my mother would allow her to make me expose one curse let alone both.
Least of all to a pack my parents deemed dogs.
“Winter,” Xander says, “answer him.”
I whimper in retort as I continue to struggle to speak. My eyes dart nervously from alpha to beta. I will not be able to withhold my tongue much longer. But why—why would Lucy do this? Those who know of our curses and attempt to leave the Blanc pack are… taken care of.
“Oh God,” I say under my breath. The men stiffen before me, but my eyes drill past them into some distant point. They must not expect the Adolphus pack to survive to spill their secrets.
“Winter.” I break from my daze and look to Xander. “Explain. Now.”
I swallow and lick my lips. My fingers knot themselves together as I rock back on my heels. “The Blanc pack suffers from a second curse. A soulmark curse.” I bite the inside of my cheek and close my eyes. “It denies us the privilege of conception with our soulmark.”
“It denies….” Atticus voice trails off, and I open my eyes to see the color drain from his face. “You mean we can’t—we can never?”
I shake my head. “If your wife was anyone else, then you could bring a child into this world, as many as you want, but not with me.”
“And this curse affects your entire pack? Not just your bloodline?”
“That’s correct,” I answer Xander. The alpha runs his hands over his face and curses.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Atticus asks. His voice is oddly hollow.
Hastily, I wipe at the tears that threaten my vision. “The cost of my confession would have cost us both our lives.” Both men share a look of horror. “It’s the Blanc packs greatest secret and weakness. For if any were to find out—"
“They would be attacked,” Xander finishes solemnly. “What pack wouldn’t wish to be known as the one to supersede the Blancs? Is this why there has been resistance with your betrothal?”
I nod.
Atticus takes a few steps toward me. His hands are balled into fists at his side. “We can never have children?”
My tears return and spill down my cheeks. “Never.”
Anxiety crawls under my skin as we pull into the driveway of our home. Of his home, I correct dismally. It was never really ours.
The engine rumbles to a stop, and somehow our silence grows louder without it. A quick glance at Atticus in the yellow overhead light displays the cut of his jaw and nose in sharp relief. He doesn’t bat an eyelash at my short study. The frown on his face is still in place after the entire length of our drive. Nothing has changed.
I exit the car without further ado, and Atticus follows suit. He trails close behind me as we walk inside. The tempo of my pulse kicks up at his nearness and the promise of another collision.
“How long have you known?” he asks once we're in the foyer. “How long have you known we’d never be able to have children?”
My movements are mechanical as I peel off the coat. I bite my lip, anticipation thrums through my veins as I place it on its rightful hook.
“I’ve known since I was young,” I tell him, my fingers unable to relinquish their hold. “They don’t officially tell you until you’re thirteen, but rumors and stories always end up circulating between the kids before that. Since we found each other so young, they had no choice but to explain the curse to me.”
“Your parents knew when making the formal betrothal contract with mine that we would never….” Atticus lets out a noise of frustration. My fingers release their hold to turn and observe him. His face is pitched in grief and anger. “How is it that nobody else in the lycan community is aware of it? Do they really keep that tight of a leash on you?”
I jerk back at his harsh delivery but nod with reluctance. “I told you what they do to us, Atticus. They can't afford to let outsiders know. There are orders in place. But for those who would defy them, safeguards have been put in place.”
“What kind of safeguards?”
“They have watchdogs. Pack mates who spy on others to make sure everyone is toeing the line. Those who pose a concern are reeducated. As for the ones who are considered more likely to put the pack at jeopardy, they are simply taken care of.”
“They would kill their own to keep their secret?”
A spike of defensiveness rallies through me. “The Blanc pack would have been eradicated centuries ago if they dealt with the situation differently. And if not that, then shunned by the community. It’s difficult enough that the pack has the weight of the entire lycan curse to weigh upon our shoulders. But this? It’s humiliating,” I explain, surprised to hear my words delivered with such rough passion.
A war rages within Atticus’s mind. I can see it through his eyes and the scrunching of his forehead and lips.
“So instead your pack chose to become elitist pricks that fear monger their own pack into submission? Instead of asking for help?” His gaze drags over me before he starts walking to the front sitting room. “Yeah, I guess that explains a lot.”
He might as well have slapped me. His tirade effectively shuts me up as I stare at the spot he once occupied in a daze. It takes a long moment for me to find my nerve, and my tongue, and then my feet make me stride after him.
“You don’t understand, Atticus,” I hamper on. “It was either the Adolphus pack or—”
“Your pack. I get it,” Atticus interrupts smoothly, not bothering to turn around and face me as he heads for the kitchen.
“No. Not the pack. Just Juniper.”
My voice cracks on her name, but I force myself to forge on as I stop at the kitchen table. His back muscles bunch together as he grips the kitchen counter in front of him. His head is ducked down and out of view entirely.
"They’ll destroy her. She’s not as strong as you or this pack. She’s just a kid.”
His lack of response makes my stomach clench uncomfortably as I wait in the mounting silence for him to give me something. Anything.
“I get it,” he says at last. “You’ve told me enough times how much she means to you. You grew up by her side. You share countless experiences with her… of course, she would win your loyalty. The Adolphus pack can’t compete with that. I sure as hell can’t either.”
“Atticus.” His name falls out in a whisper. “I’m sorry.”
He sighs, and the muscles across his back release their rigid posture as he turns to face me. “I understand why you did it, Winter,” he concedes again, but there is an undercurrent of discontent. “What I don’t understand is why you didn’t ask any of us for help. I thought there was at least something growing between us. Something real—”
“It was real. It is real. I swear.”
“Then why didn’t you say something?”
The sudden rise of his voice startles both of us. Wide-eyed, I approach him with careful steps.
“I was afraid,” I admit. “Just because I was out of my parents’ and the pack’s reach didn’t mean I was safe from their wrath or the consequence if I didn’t obey. I thought… I thought they were going to hurt you at first. Mother didn’t say exactly who would suffer if I failed, and I assumed it would be you.”
Atticus studies me with an intensity I’m unused to but makes no comment.
“I’ll find some way to fix this. I swear I will," I say.
He shudders a sigh at my vow, his hand reaching to grapple the back of his neck. He pins his sights up to the ceiling above, his Adam’s apple bobbing. The broad line of his shoulders drops as his grip grows lax and his stare remains true.
