Chapter 46: Sena - Fated to the Night King

Weeks followed, nights of us working together, bent over the worktable with Danvers, or walking between the beds as the rescued Stricken regained their health day by day. Many were up and walking again, their wolves communing with their human selves, and I saw how terrifying it was to have lost that connection after you’d fully experienced it. I’d been so young when I lost that, had never known the power of shifting or of knowing that part of myself. Seeing them regaining it gave me hope. Maybe, someday, the wolf that lived within me would be able to break through, and we could run wild through the woods as we were meant to.

Valmont was dead, his body consigned to the soil of the garden, where his blood had fed the ground as it spilled out. I’d been there to watch his final breaths, heard his final plea to be given another chance, the wounds I’d given him still gaping and raw. It wasn’t an easy death. Nor was it beautiful. It just was. But it had been fair and one that, according to all who witnessed it, had been justified when all his crimes were considered. None of the Istakarrans contested the judgment though they were given the opportunity to do so. This was justice in the Night Court. Justice obtained through blood.

Covenant Night loomed and Gus was bustling about with orders and plans. She’d brought in helpers from outside the court, men and women who helped with the extra tasks and earned a bit of coin without owing a vow to the King. I did what she asked in the kitchen when I could be there and slept soundly in my mate’s arms when dawn came. The nightmares had left me and I dreamed of a future instead.

The dress Alkan had commissioned for me to wear on Covenant Night hung in the wardrobe, the gleaming silver embroidery tracing over the fabric with a delicate design. One that matched the design on Alkan’s jacket. It was an announcement in its way. That we were matched, mated, a pair in every way.

I chopped the potatoes in front of me, cutting them exactly as Gus had asked, slicing and quartering until I worked my way through. Feeling a presence at my back, I turned, expecting to see Gus there with more instructions. What I saw, though, made me grip the knife harder, prepared for the threat I saw lurking in her eyes.

Calla.

She wore one of the many aprons that Gus had passed out to those who’d hired on for this event. The young woman glared at me, her lip raised in a sneer, and she leaned close. “You were sent here with a purpose. Instead, you live like a pampered pet, petted and praised by our own enemies. Abandoning the Goddess and her guidance. Disobeying her Chosen, even though he’s the one that saved you.”

I expected her to strike me, saw her hand curl into a fist at her side and braced for the impact. Because a part of me believed she was right. I’d been happy, even as I worked hard each night, trying to find a cure that I could take back to the Citadel. One that could spread and free the Stricken from their forced service. Their forced submission.

“Glory is on her deathbed and won’t speak an ill word against you. Danil has relapsed and no one expects he’ll survive. Yet here you are, eating whatever you want, running their errands, sleeping in his bed. A whore to the man who would destroy us.”

Her words weren’t shrill, or loud. She kept them harsh and biting, a bitter whisper that did its own kind of damage. She had me worried over Glory and Danil, instantly afraid of what would become of them if I didn’t return with a cure in time. But her calling me a whore simply made me angry. Because I knew I wasn’t. I had given myself to my mate, by all interpretations of any doctrine we’d been given an act that was in line with the Goddess and her wish for those blessed to be her people. I’d consented to that, under no threat or fear of retribution, and that was more than I’d ever get from any of the Whole populating the Citadel. Much less Thalon or Hugh.

“Sena, how are those potatoes?” Gus hurried over, taking in the full bowl I’d quartered, thanking me and then reminding me that I was due to see Danvers. Calla watched me go, her eyes narrowed to angry slits, and I was tempted to run back and warn Gus that her kitchen was not safe. But I couldn’t.

Because they hadn’t betrayed me when I was sent here under false pretenses. They’d given me a chance to show if I could be trusted, could work with them. So, I would offer Calla that same opportunity.

I hurried to meet with Danvers, Gil and Chancel working to keep up with me as they escorted me through the castle. I didn’t even take a second to admire the books that filled the shelves in the library. Guilt, though, followed quickly at the reminder that Glory would love to read each story in this room. She’d lose herself in the myth and the lore, the knowledge contained here and come out happy because of it.

Danvers brightened at the sight of me. “Sena,” he said as I entered his workroom, the hidden door sliding smoothly closed behind me. “Come see this slide. It’s amazing progress.”

I did as he asked, aligning my eye to the lens as he’d taught me and focusing on the smear of blood pressed between the glass. It was dark red, but that was almost all I could see. The shimmering bits of silver I’d come to expect when I examined these were almost non-existent. Only a few, faint bits of shine visible in the sample.

“it’s working,” the healer said when I looked to him, and he patted my shoulder. “The cure we’ve been testing, it’s working. Thanks to you. Your blood was the final piece we needed. We can cure the Silver Sickness.”

I knew he was keeping his voice down because he didn’t want the patients on the other side of the workroom to hear our discussion. Didn’t want to promise them something he couldn’t deliver to all. But the possibility was there. Finally, a cure.

The injections he’d been giving me as a trial treatment had been working. There was no doubt in my mind. My wolf was stronger, the pain and malaise that had plagued me at times in the past hadn’t reappeared. And it felt like I was so close to being able to shift that I worried regularly if I would shred the clothes I wore when it happened.

“We’ve started the Stricken on a stronger course of treatment now that we know it’s unlikely to harm them. They’re all strong enough to do so now. And one of them mentioned something to me when we were discussing the onset of his illness. He told me that shortly after meeting with Alkan about an alliance, the Alpha came to their village. Offered to take them all in and give them a place within the Citadel. Protect them from those who would encroach on their land. They refused. Days later, the first symptoms began to appear. It spread quickly, faster than most contagions I’ve encountered before. But it doesn’t seem to have been as virulent as what you described experiencing, so it may be a variant. Not as debilitating, but still fatal for those who are weak or physically compromised.”

I heard what he said, nodded along, but the quiet of my mind, I kept returning to one thing.

That Thalon had personally gone to those villages and shortly after, the plague had revealed itself. Leaving death in its wake.

“Sena, are you all right?” Danvers was watching me concerned, so I tried to smile.

“I’m fine. This is just a lot to take in. I was almost afraid to hope we’d accomplish this.” I saw the vials sitting on his table, the syringes lined up with caps on to keep them sterile before use. “How many injections does it take for someone to make a full recovery?”

He studied me, as if he wasn’t sure how much to share, then shrugged. “It depends on their level of illness, really. As you know, some are sicker than others. A conservative estimate would be at least 5. Those who are more ill will need more time to heal, but that’s to be expected. Even one treatment, though, should start them on the path to recovery.”

“That’s wonderful.” And it was. Truly wonderful. It meant a future for every shifter in this hidden infirmary. But there were so many I’d left behind that needed this chance, too. Calla’s presence here was a clear reminder of that.

“Are you ready?” The question pulled me out of my thoughts and back into the present.

“Ready for what?”

My friend smiled at me. “For Covenant Night. The whole court is excited; even more than they’ve been in the past.”

I knew that was true. Gus had been buzzing about it earlier, making sure to tell me that there were even bets that Alkan would make our relationship permanent in the traditional Istakarran way.

“Of course. It sounds like it will be a lovely time.” My response sounded stilted, even to myself. To keep him from asking too many questions, I rolled up my sleeve and held my arm out. “And because we have so much still to do, I thought you’d want to give me the dose now before I get busy again. We don’t want to forget.”

Distracted by my appeal to his medical nature, he injected me with the medicine, and I followed his process keenly. I’d seen it many times over, memorizing how much fluid he pulled into the syringe, how he tapped the side to remove air bubbles, and the angle he held it as he pressed the plunger. The sting was familiar, but for the first time, it brought a memory bubbling to the surface.

A memory of a similar sting, a long time ago, when I was playing with a young Hugh and Cass, as Thalon met with my father. It was a discussion between adults, but I knew that Thalon was hoping to join our pack. My father was the Alpha then, leading our village of shifters with wisdom and fairness. Thalon had emerged from my home, moonlight slanting over him as he came to where I stood with his sons.

“Sena, your father is calling for you,” he said, an amiable smile on his face. As I passed by him, he reached out, his hand settling on the upper part of my arm, a quick, sharp pain biting into my bicep, as he held me in place for a single moment. “Thank you for being so kind to my boys. You’re a good child.”

He released me and I waved goodbye to my new friends, rubbing at what I thought was an insect bite, then ran to where my family waited for me.

When I woke the next day, my bones ached and the fever made my muscles spasm. I heard my mother crying, my father’s moans. My younger brothers labored breathing that eventually faded away into silence.

Of our small pack, I was the only one to survive.

The last one clinging to life when Thalon returned, face grim as he pulled me from my bed, whispered a promise to care for me, and took me away from the only home I’d ever known.

Truth washed over me in a chilling wave. We had a cure that would help my people.

But I understood that Thalon would never let it be used to help those who needed it.

Because he’d created the Silver Sickness in the first place.