Chapter 31: Sena - Fated to the Night King

Gil and Chancel were watchful as they led me from the healer's workroom to the king's quarters. I was glad to have them because I felt an exhaustion so deep that it almost frightened me. My arms ached from the spots where Danvers had taken my blood. He'd been excited to show me the difference in the samples under his scope. He laid comparison samples beside today’s and pointed out the different markers he felt were important.

Basically, he saw improvement.

I didn't see anything.

Just smears of blood on glass, and the shimmer of silver that proved the truth of what I was.

Stricken.

It was a strange feeling when I saw that. Almost relief, I think, that I wasn't that much changed from the people I'd left behind. Because if I did heal, if Danvers was able to find a cure, how would I disseminate it among the others. Was it even possible to synthesize enough to help all who needed it. If the base of the cure was the King's blood, there was no way I could think of that he would survive providing the quantity needed.

My thoughts were muddled, stumbling on top of each other. It felt like I was missing a piece, critical information that would make the full picture come into focus. But without that, I couldn't understand exactly what was off.

"We're here, Miss." Chancel knocked on the door and when there was no answer, he opened it and waved me inside. Both men followed me, checking the large space for anyone who might be hiding in the wardrobe or in the bath. Only when they had reassured themselves I wasn't at risk, did they wish me a good day and pointedly echo the recommendation I'd received from Danvers.

Rest. Recover.

So we could do this all again tomorrow.

I climbed up on the bed, intending only to lay down for a few minutes, seeing this as a rare opportunity to search Alkan's room for information. My heart pounded at the very thought, but I couldn't just sit still and do nothing. If I could find information that supported what Thalon said, I knew the course I needed to follow. But if I found proof to support that Alkan had no desire to harm the shifters, then working with him made the most sense. Even if it betrayed the man I owed my life to.

As I considered my next steps, my eyes were drawn to the bedside table. A vase sat on it, cut from purple crystal, and inside, the deep lavender of the night roses, more than the one Alkan had gifted me. They all sat in perfect harmony, full blooms perfuming the air with their sweet fragrance. I reached out, touched a soft petal, and told myself to get up. To search the room while I could.

Instead, I slipped into sleep, exhaustion wrapping around me and dragging me under.

Glory waited for me there. I knew it was a dream, but it felt real enough that I sank into her embrace when she held her arms out to me.

"You're so brave, sweet girl." She ran her fingers over my hair and pulled back to assess me, "What you're doing for us, it won't be forgotten."

"I'm trying to do the right thing, Glory. I swear I am. I'll come back to you."

A force wrapped around my throat, silencing me as I thrashed to get away. Glory stood there, sadness etched across her face, and I reached out to her. Hoping to grab hold, to stay anchored where I knew I could be safe.

But I was pulled away, my feet scrambling at the ground for purchase as it turned from dirt to stone, until I was dumped on the floor in front of an all too familiar door. It opened, and his voice said my name. I tried to scream, but no sound escaped me. My voice was gone again, stripped away, and then the Alpha spoke.

"I have Called you, Sena. I Called and you failed to come as you know the Goddess commands." Fingers tangled in my hair, jerking me forward on my knees and the door slammed shut behind me. Sealing me away. Alone with him.

Instantly, every memory of the times Hugh had Called for me, every agonizing moment I'd spent fighting him surged up and I wanted to vomit. Because if Hugh was the monster I knew, his father was so much more. He'd hinted at it, had dangled the promise or the threat of it in front of me for years.

And it was finally here.

I was finally at his mercy in the worst way I could imagine.

And there was no escape.

The far door of his private room opened, and I heard him go into the space he called his Confessional. No one else was ever allowed inside and he held the only key. I'd seen it once, when delivering a list of new Stricken we'd returned to the Citadel with. It was ornate, the gold sculpted into a symbol that mimicked the Alpha's chain around his neck. He'd dropped it into the pocket of the ceremonial robes he wore, and I could see the way it altered the flow of the fabric, the heavy weight pulling the material down so it no longer hung smoothly.

When he came back to where I lay on the floor, I risked a glance up, and I saw the future in his eyes. There would be no reprieve, no quarter from him. The Alpha would be my death.

The only question was when. And how.

I couldn't remain there on the floor, cowering in shame, submitting to his orders. Anger fueled me, and I surged forward, snagging the end of his robe and pulling him down onto the ground as he stared at me in horror and disbelief. The golden key fell as he did, spilling out of the pocket and hitting the floor with a vibrating thud. I grabbed at it, wheeling away from his grasping reach, and ran for the only door that might offer a chance at escape. The Confessional. I'd never been allowed to see inside. But I knew what was waiting for me in the corridor.

My breath was heaving as I darted across the cavernous room, every footstep seeming to echo around me. I fitted the key into the door, turned it and heard the lock release. The door opened and I ducked inside, pulling it shut tight just as the Alpha's fist landed hard on the surface. The door shook with the blow, but it held, and I locked it tight from the inside.

I looked around, but there was nothing but darkness. Feeling around, I tried to find my way back, but there was nothing, and the Alpha was calling my name, screaming it, his arms somehow grabbing hold and shaking me. I swung, my fingers raking across his face, and I smiled at the sound of pain that pulled from him.

Bracing for the killing blow, I held my breath and told myself I had to see his face before I died. See the wounds I'd inflicted on him.

When I finally blinked my eyes open, I was stunned to see Alkan sitting beside me on the bed, his cheek slashed and blood seeping through the skin.

Understanding hit me and I recoiled, trying to flinch away. I'd wounded the Night King himself, all because of a dream.

I expected him to react in kind. To hit me or punish me. Instead, he shook his head and ... smiled.

"Well, my little spy, it's good to see you still have your claws."

He took my hand and held it up between us, showing me the sharp pointed tips.

Something I'd never seen on my hand before.

The claws of a wolf.