Chapter 50: Sena - Fated to the Night King

There were no guards posted near the dug out tunnel that led straight into the Stricken’s lowest level beneath the Citadel. I’d used it often enough in the past when a breath of fresh air was the only thing that could keep me from screaming or sobbing. It was well hidden, still, but it looked like it had been regularly maintained.

Crawling through the opening, I took a moment to catch my breath. I’d pushed hard to get here. The heightened senses of my shifter heritage were returning, and I’d been able to stay clear of any roaming patrols. My chest ached and my wolf prowled in my mind, angry at the distance that separated us from our mate. I soothed her with the reminder that we had a pack who needed us. Needed our protection and care. Healing only we could bring them.

I waited at the exit to the lower corridor, listening carefully, and when I was sure it was clear, I slipped out and hurried toward my first destination. The corridors weren’t crowded at this time of day, with most of the Stricken employed somewhere and others sleeping while they could before reporting for more work. It allowed me to work my way through the maze, until I stood outside Bethann’s door.

She opened it at my first knock, her eyes going wide when she recognized me.

I slid in through the narrow opening, and she closed the door quickly behind me.

“The children are at school. All except Danil.” The sadness was clear in her voice. “He’s not doing well.”

I nodded. “I have something that might help him.”

“Glory said you’d be back for us. Told everyone.” She pointed me toward the boy’s room and sighed. “He still hasn’t said a word. Though, sometimes, I think he’s trying so hard to tell us something.”

Sympathy filled me and I heard my wolf snarl inside my mind. Alphas were meant to care for and protect. They were not meant to steal the voices and abilities of those they were given charge of. My vision went double and I wavered on my feet as she tried to take over, ready to face down the one who’d hurt those she considered her own. I flattened my hand against the wall, took a few seconds to breathe, and then entered Danil’s room.

The book I’d given him when I was last here rested beside his cot, his fingers spread possessively over it. I could see his skin was flushed, feel the heat rising from him as I knelt down.

“Danil,” I whispered, hoping to coax a reaction from him. Enough to know he was even just a little awake, so I could tell him that I was here to help him, but he didn’t move. His breathing didn’t change, dragging in and out with a gravelly sound that made me sure his airway was compromised. A relapse wasn’t uncommon when you had Silver Sickness. But it could be bad. I’d seen it enough times to know.

I muttered to myself as I pulled out the first vial, the first syringe. Doing exactly as I’d seen Danvers do many times, I tip the vial and drew back on the plunger, watching the fluid fill up the tube. “Only half a dose. Just like the other children.”

The boy didn’t react when I lifted his arm up, his fingers dangling limp over the cover of the book. “I’m sorry sweetheart. This should make it better.”

If he could hear me, I wanted him to know I cared enough to recognize that this might hurt. Then I pressed the needle to his skin, broke through into his muscle with a quick jab, and pressed down on the plunger.

Danil moaned a little in his sleep, his eyes fluttering, but he didn’t open them. I sat back on my knees, waiting and watching, needing to see some kind of reaction. Minutes passed until I finally heard it. A breath that didn’t drag as much. Didn’t require as much effort to pull in oxygen. His body relaxed a little, not as painfully tensed, and relief hit me. It was working.

This was going to work.

I stood up, looking to Bethann. “Where’s Glory?”

She went pale at my question. “The Alpha. He Called for her. When she finally came back, she was in bad shape. A relapse, but also, he’d hurt her.” She whispered this, as if by raising her voice, Thalon might hear what we were discussing. “She’s in her quarters, but they don’t think she has long.”

Time was ticking and I felt the urgency. “You saw how I did that for Danil?” She nodded and gasped when I handed her the second vial. The last syringe. “Do the same for her. Fill it up all the way. Children only get half.” If Glory was as weak as described, we didn’t have time to waste. Better to give her too much than not enough.

Bethann put her hand on my arm. “The others are frightened, Sena. There’s been talk of taking relapsed Stricken out of the Citadel and abandoning them. If it is the will of the Goddess, they say those who are blessed by her will live.”

Horror struck me. “They would turn out Glory, who’s done so much for them? And a child?” I didn’t want to believe that was possible.

“They’re afraid, Sena. When people are afraid, they can be capable of terrible things.”

I wanted to scream in frustration. But I understood what she was saying. I’d been afraid for a long time. I wanted to trust that it wouldn’t lead me to harm someone else. But I had to confront that I’d been willing to kill Alkan myself, if given the opportunity. Because I’d been told it meant protection, even healing, for those hurt by the Silver Sickness.

At the root of that willingness had been fear.

Fear of living as a Stricken for the rest of my life.

Fear of the pain of a relapse and the kind of death that could promise.

And fear of returning to Thalon without having done what he’d wanted me to.

Even after learning I’d been wrong, there was still a kernel of fear inside me. But it was a different kind. The kind that made me afraid to lose the love I’d found, the home good people had opened to me. The kind that made me refuse to allow Thalon’s leadership to continue, because if I did, it meant the death of so many others.

“Can I borrow some of your clothes? I need to go Above and look for something. The less recognizable I am, the better. For now.”

She nodded as she left Danil’s room. I gave him one final look and made a promise to him.

“I’ll be back.”

I changed quickly, leaving the gifts from Alkan with her, though it left an emptiness behind when I did. She said she’d keep them safe.

Then I slipped back out into the warren of halls, following the slope up. Emotion made me want to stop and go back the other way, to see Glory and tell her I had come home.

But the truth came first.

And that would require a hunt.

So, I pushed on, keeping the borrowed shawl over my hair, my head bent down, dragging my leg as if I had an injury. The rooms I passed were all quiet. Eerily so.

Especially when I crossed over from the packed dirt to the gleaming stone walls that marked the separation between the Pack’s members. Whole on one side, Stricken on the other.

I kept moving, avoiding the eyes of anyone I happened to pass. Just another lesser on the way to work that needed doing. But there was a tension on these upper levels that was strangely similar to what I’d felt below. It made me wonder what I was walking into. There were servant’s passages that allowed those working to pass unseen, and I took advantage of those to move faster. My heart pounded, but the pain I’d felt in my chest earlier had eased somewhat. Enough of a change that I noticed, rubbing my palm over that spot.

When I stepped out from behind the large tapestry hanging on the wall, I wasn’t surprised to be in Thalon’s personal quarters.

But the sight that truly stole my breath was Thalon on his throne, Cass standing to the side with a pained grimace. And Hugh beside a kneeling figure, with a sword held to that person’s throat.

When the cowl of the hooded cloak fell back, I saw him. The dark depths of his eyes, the sharp lines of his jaw. It was him.

The Night King had come to the Citadel.

For me.