Chapter 35: Sena - Fated to the Night King

My chest itched, and I scratched absently at it. Perhaps this was a rash, a reaction to the treatment Danvers had started me on. Rather than having me drink an extra dose of his tonic, he’d wanted to try an injection of a purer form of the mixture. More distilled.

More powerful.

The dose he’d given me made me lightheaded. Gus had worried over me, wagging a finger at the healer as he told her it was to be expected. A confluence of important factors. There was an undercurrent I felt in their conversation but couldn’t pinpoint the meaning. It was something they both understood. Something I didn’t.

Yet.

I focused on braiding the dough in front of me. A task Gus had shown me and then gleefully handed off when I showed I had the technique down.

“I’m glad you’re a fast hand at that, because it’s not my favorite job to do, as anyone here will tell you. The words I’ve said trying to get the plaits uniform would make a cleric blush.”

She’d left me at it, moving around the large kitchen with the grace of someone completely at ease in the space. This was her domain. She ruled over it with kindness and quick wit.

It was a fine place to be.

Over, under, flip and start again. Over, under, flip and repeat. It was a repetitive task that allowed my mind to wander, and it was thoughts of Glory that drifted into the quiet. Then Danil. Colm. How were they?

I worried over Danil the most. Was he finally talking? Danvers comment about muteness not being a typical symptom of Silver Sickness made me ask what it might be caused by.

Trauma, of course. He’d seen his people die around him. A poor, ill child waiting for the same fate, with no one coming when he’d cried out for help, perhaps. No hope of survival until I’d stumbled upon his cot, sent there on Alpha’s orders. Find the survivors and bring them to him. Dispose of the rest.

I could still see him, his small frame weakened by illness. Eyes fever bright. My heart ached at the memory, and something flickered in the back of my mind

He couldn’t speak that day, or any day after. But if the Silver Sickness wasn’t the cause, what was?

Suddenly the need to see Danvers pressed down on me. I hurried through the final plaits and slid the final formed dough onto the board, where it would wait until an oven was available.

I wiped my hands down the apron front, then untied it and hung it as I moved toward the exit. The drone of work continued behind me and I hurried away. I knew the way to Danvers office. It might only be minutes, and I could have an answer that would explain so much of my life. My history.

The corridors were familiar to me, and I made my way easily, slipping my way past groups of people, their questioning glances quickly left behind as I rushed to find the healer.

I came around a bend, and a hand reached out of the corner where the shadows were darkest and pulled me in. Fear rushed through me as my eyes adjusted to the dim light, a hand sealing completely over my mouth.

“What are you running from, wolf?” A man’s voice, one I’d heard before, whispered thickly in my ear. “Or, perhaps I should be asking, who are you running to?”

My skin went cold and, for a moment, I was frozen. The taste of bitter metal filled my mouth, and my nose was flooded with the scent of the man imprisoning me.

Valmont.

Something tugged at my chest, the muscles beneath my skin going tight, and the hesitancy that kept me still slipped away. What replaced it was anger. Almost rage. I didn’t have to be this man’s victim.

I wouldn’t.

Pain raced down my arms, muscles and tendons stretching beyond their limits, and I bit down on Valmont’s fingers. He shrieked and his hold loosened on me just long enough that I spun in his arms.

My arm swept out, following the arc and momentum, and I felt it when his flesh gave beneath my claws. The coppery scent of blood filled the alcove we stood in and he gaped at me.

Astonishment colored his voice as he tried to push me away. “He told me you were sent here to help me kill the false king. But you’re cozying up to him instead.” His words turned into a snarl, and he reached out for me, but I sidestepped his grasping hands, kicking at the back of his knee to knock him off balance. He flailed, his expectation of me as an easy target making him vulnerable, and I tried to speak, to warn him away, but all that came out was a growl.

He lunged, staggering, and I sliced across his abdomen again. He keened, a pained sound echoing off the surrounding stone, and I distantly heard the sound of footsteps rushing toward us. I skated backward, keeping out of reach. "Stay away from me,” I managed to get out, the words sounding rough and unfamiliar in my ears.

Valmont tripped, falling forward, his hands landing on my shoulders, creeping toward my neck.

I dug my claws in once more, plunging them deep into his belly. Satisfaction roared in my ears, and I smiled at the stunned look on the man’s face. Blood bubbled on his lips, red froth pooling at the corners of his mouth, and I was happy to see the realization of his mistake fill his eyes, mixing with the pain.

Hands wrapped around my waist, pulling me away, and now I was the one snarling. Baring my teeth. Ready to sink my claws into the next one who wanted to harm me.

“Sena, stop, please, you’re safe.” A strong body pressed me back until I hit the wall, one large hand wrapping both my wrists, pinning them up over my head. “You’re safe, sweet wolf, I swear. He can’t hurt you now.”

There was the sound of scuffling, pained whines and wet exhalations, but I didn’t look at what was happening. My gaze was locked on Alkan’s, at the way he didn’t flinch or look afraid. Not horrified or disappointed.

In fact, if I had to guess, he looked proud.

“Eyes on me, Sena. Right here. Gil and Chancel have him down. He won’t be getting up any time soon.”

I felt the need to explain, to add context to what I’d done, if only to ensure that any judgment rendered reflected an understanding of why I’d harmed one of the King’s own court.

“He grabbed me, wrapped his hand over my mouth so I couldn’t scream.” Alkan simply nodded, the hand still at my waist rubbing a soothing circle over the fabric of my dress.

“I know, Sena. I know. I saw it happening through you. You don’t have to explain.” He let me regain my breath, before stepping back to give me a searching look. “Anywhere you’re hurt? He had a dagger on him.”

Looking down at the floor, I caught the light glinting off the twisted metal handle, golden with a line of rubies down the center. I hadn’t even realized he’d been armed.

“No,” I said, shaking my head, sure Valmont hadn’t gotten a strike in. “I didn’t give him a chance. I just… defended myself.”

“Yes, you did. And did a fine job of it.” He smiled at me, tilting my chin up to meet his eyes once more. “I’m glad to see someone else gets to feel the bite of your claws when necessary. Now let’s get you to Danvers, just to make sure you’re all right.”

He started to lead me away, a supporting hand in the small of my back, but I stopped and he waited beside me. Looking over my shoulder, I asked, “Shouldn’t we take him to Danvers as well?”

The man beside me changed, shifting almost instantly from a concerned companion to a haughty, angry royal who was both judge and executioner.

“We won’t waste Danvers on the likes of him. He’ll be delivered to the garden.”

Valmont’s panicked wail filled my ears as Alkan guided me away. I noticed when the man’s cries cut off abruptly and I shivered. I hadn’t killed him, but I feared I would be the death of him anyway.

And I couldn’t find even an ounce of remorse in me at that thought.