Wolfsbane (35 page)

The hal suddenly felt too narrow, like it was closing in on me. I had to get outside. I need to breathe open air. I ran faster, searching for any way out of the corridor. When I came to the next set of glass doors, I burst through them.

The salty richness of the ocean air poured over me. Bent over, resting my hands on my knees, I gulped it down like water. The vivid hues of the sunset had given way to the muted shades of twilight, lavender, and gray. Even in the shadows the braided, white gold band circling my finger glinted, catching any light and throwing it back at me.

Mocking, hateful.

It reminds me of your hair.

Even now the rope of white blond hair hung over my shoulder, swinging as I stood up. The courtyard was massive, and what had been a near barren garden just yesterday now quivered with lush greens and fil ed the air with the crisp, mineral scent of fresh herbs.

I ran toward the nearest greenhouse, searching.

Anything would do, as long as it was sharp. My breath was coming hard, ragged. I jerked the door open, stumbling past seedlings and potted plants.

The scent of compost swirling through the humid air was sweet but a little sickening. I found what I wanted at the far end of the greenhouse, resting on the edge of a potting stand.

I grabbed the pruning shears with one hand and my thick braid in the other, just above where my neck met my shoulders. I didn’t stop cutting until the twisted length came off in my hand. I stared at it, tossing it away like a live snake. My breath had slowed, and my head felt light, free. I set the pruning shears down and left the greenhouse.

It was raining when I stepped back into the courtyard, the softest of rainfal s. Bits of moisture touched my skin like the memory of raindrops, nothing close to a steady downpour, lighter even than mist. Warm night air slipped along my skin. I headed for the very center of the garden. The path led me to a wal of careful y trimmed hedges behind which I found a central square. Steps descended into a layer of flower beds lined by blossoming fruit trees. It was perfectly stil , secluded from the rest of the world. At the heart of the square was a stone fountain of four carved figures. It was a strange group: a woman in armor like a knight, a man in a monk’s robes, a child with scrol s in his hands, and a woman in a simple dress grasping a hewn tree branch. Water swirled in a pool at their feet, reflecting the silver hues of the clouds above.

I walked along the edge of the pool, trailing my fingers along the surface of the water. The sunken garden should have offered tranquility, but I couldn’t sense anything beyond the storm in my mind. I raked my fingers through my shorn locks, startled when my hands came free just above my shoulders.

“Good hiding spot.”

I whirled to find Shay coming up the garden path to where I stood near the central fountain. My jaw tightened. I became stil as the four statues as I watched him approach.

“Quiet, secluded.” His eyes flicked around the flower beds blanketed with shadows cast by tal hedges. “Creepy enough to keep most people away at night, but not too scary.”

The corner of his mouth crinkled in a smile. “I give it an A minus, but only because the moon isn’t out tonight.”

He came a step closer.

“Thanks a lot.” I kept a hard, warning edge in my voice. “How did you find me?”

He ran a hand through his hair, glancing at me sheepishly. “I fol owed your scent.”

“Of course.” I turned my back on him, moving away from the fountain, deeper in the shadows of the garden. “Go away.”

“No.” He darted in front me, blocking my path.

“No.” He darted in front me, blocking my path.

“I’m serious, Shay.”

“So am I,” he said. “I don’t think you should be alone right now.”

“That’s real y not up to you.”

He reached out, pushing back the pale strands of hair that curled along my chin.

“No more braid?” He smiled, twirling my cropped locks in his fingers. “I like it. It’s a good look for you.”

I didn’t answer and his smile disappeared.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” he said quietly.

“I am alone.” My chest felt hol ow.

“You know that isn’t true.”

I drew a sharp breath and fisted my hands. “Tel me what is true, then.”

“You loved him.” His eyes held mine.

“Yes.” The word hung between us, naked in its truth. I couldn’t find another breath to steady my trembling body.

He took another step toward me, and his words came out low but steady. “But not the way you love me.”

I stumbled backward as if he’d struck me.

“Cal a,” he murmured, and reached for my arm.

“You can’t blame yourself. What you’ve done, how you feel, none of it makes Ren’s choice your fault.”

I twisted away from his outstretched hand.

“Stop,” I said. “I don’t want to talk about this. I can’t.”

“You’re right,” he said gently. “It’s not the time to talk.”

He moved so quickly his body blurred for a moment, and then I was in his arms. I gripped his shoulders, my nails digging deep into his skin, but he didn’t let go. He only held me closer.

I snarled and struggled, but Shay kept me locked tight against him. I felt the steady beating of his heart next to mine. Moisture coursed over my face, the silky mist in the air mixing with my tears.

Shay kissed me gently, tracing the pattern of sorrow with his lips. I clung to him. Quiet, soothing murmurs passed from his lips as he continued to kiss me.

When the storm of grief subsided, I lifted my chin and my lips found his. He slowly pul ed my lower lip between his teeth, and I threw myself into the kiss with such force that Shay lost his balance and fel , sending us tumbling down the garden path. We stopped rol ing and I found myself beneath him. I’d barely caught my breath when I kissed him again, my fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. I felt a growl rumble in his chest, and he shrugged the shirt from his shoulders. I twined my fingers in his hair, slightly damp from the subtle rainfal .

His lips moved down my neck. I could hear my own breath come in short, shal ow pul s, almost gasps. The night air of the garden, sweet with budding roses but sharpened by the salt tang of the ocean, slipped between my parted lips.

Shay’s mouth stroked the bare skin of my stomach, and for a moment I wondered what had happened to my shirt. And my leather pants.

His kiss moved further down the line of my body and I no longer cared where any of my clothes were.

Layers of silver clouds above us parted like gauze curtains lifted by the wind, and slender vines of moonlight curled around our bodies. Shay moved over me as the night sky opened up, his body silhouetted by pale light that shimmered in the garden. His lips brushed my cheek, his hips settled against mine. I could feel every pulse of his heart as we pressed together, skin to skin. I shivered as I felt something deep within me rising, opening, aching for something only he could give me. When he kissed me again, I thought I would break apart with need. He pul ed back, watching me silently. A question waited for me in his eyes.

“Yes,” I murmured.

I kissed him again and there were no more questions to be answered.

TWENTY-EIGHT

SNIP. SNIP.

Bryn’s mouth twisted as she concentrated on the task at hand.

“Real y, Cal, if you wanted a haircut, you should have just asked. You’ve made a complete mess of this.”

I watched strands of my hair drift to the floor. It hadn’t been easy to get here. I’d managed to disentangle myself from Shay’s arms and slip unnoticed from his room, quietly making my way back to my own.

It wasn’t that I was sorry for spending the night with him, but I didn’t know what the morning would bring, and my head was already spinning with everything that had transpired in the last twenty-four hours. I needed some time alone before I’d be ready to talk to Shay about last night in the garden. And his room.

The memory sent flames licking through my bel y and I shuddered.

“Cal a, I swear I’m not going to hurt you,” Bryn said through clenched teeth. “Can you please hold stil ?”

“Sorry.”

Guilt had nipped at my heels with each step as I’d searched for my packmates, finding them at last exactly where I’d left them. My stomach rumbled as the scent of freshly baked bread and citrus rol ed over me. The dining room was busy that morning, but not ful to bursting as it had been when I’d fled from the previous night’s assembly. Searchers moved in and out of the room, some grabbing croissants and popping grapes into their mouths as they went about their mornings, others lingering over steaming cups of coffee at various tables.

Nev, Bryn, Adne, Connor, Silas, Tess, and Sabine

—who appeared to have ful y recovered—were gathered at the same table where the Searchers had shared coffee two days ago. Ethan and Mason were conspicuously absent. I approached the table slowly.

Someone else seemed to be missing too. My chest burned when I realized I’d been looking for Monroe.

I’d joined them at their table, ready to make up an excuse for my absence and answer al the questions they had about how I’d come to form an al iance with the Searchers.

But my appearance had stopped al conversation, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. Adne had furrowed her brow before shrugging, turning her attention back to her bowl of fresh fruit and cream.

Silas kept tilting his head back and forth as if trying to figure out what exactly was different about me.

Tess was kind enough to smile a greeting but not say anything. A grin kept sliding on and off Nev’s mouth as though he wanted to laugh, but knew better.

It had taken less than five minutes of this for Bryn to stand up with a quick nod to Sabine. Both girls shuttled me out of the dining room and up to my bedroom. Bryn had been trying to amend the hack job I’d done on my locks ever since.

Sabine clicked her tongue, moving to stand in front of me so she could get a better angle on Bryn’s work. “You’re cutting al wrong. It’s going to be uneven.”

“Do you want to do this?” Bryn snapped.

“Yes.” She grabbed for the scissors.

“Wait a sec.” I straightened in the chair and Bryn had to jerk the scissors away to avoid impaling my neck. “Seriously, Sabine? You want to cut my hair?”

I frowned at her, not sure if I trusted her to give me a haircut that was flattering.

“It would be my pleasure, Cal a. I always cut Cosette’s hair.” For a moment the skin around her eyes tightened, but in the next instant she smiled again.

“Oh, she had adorable hair.” Bryn beamed. “You should let Sabine take over, Cal. I have no idea what I’m doing. I can style like a pro, but this cutting thing is out of my league.”

I swal owed but nodded. If Sabine was going to be our al y, I had to let old animosities fal away.

Bryn handed Sabine the scissors with a relieved sigh.

There was the sound of a throat clearing behind us. We al turned toward the door.

“Uh, hey.” Shay ruffled his hair, taking in the group of girls before him and looking like he might bolt.

“Hi, Shay,” Bryn said, not quite hiding her giggle as she glanced back and forth between the two of us.

Sabine nodded at him but quickly turned her attention back to my hair.

“What’s going on?” He took a couple of steps into the room, stil indecisive about how safe it was to be there.

“We’re trying to fix Cal a’s hair. She just hacked it off.” Bryn curled a few strands around her fingers.

“What did you use, exactly?”

“Pruning shears.” I was staring at the floor. I shouldn’t have left Shay this morning without talking to him first. Now everything felt awkward and I didn’t know how to fix it.

“No wonder it looks so awful,” Sabine muttered.

“I think it looks good,” Shay protested, inching toward us.

Sabine barked a laugh. “You’d think she looked good if she had leprosy.”

I blushed and Bryn giggled.

Shay smiled sheepishly, clearing his throat again.

“Cal, I was hoping we could talk.”

I bit my lip and kept my eyes off his face. “Sure, but I’m a little busy right now.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Wel , I’l be in my room.”

“Okay.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets, but at least he managed not to run from the room.

Bryn began to laugh. “I think we scared him.”

“It’s a tough room.” Sabine didn’t look up from her deft maneuvering of the scissors. “He’s probably a little thrown.”

I had to fight to keep stil in the chair. “Thrown by what?”

“Being our new alpha. Ren’s out, he’s in. It’s a lot to swal ow. He’s only been a wolf a few weeks; he’s not used to it like the rest of us.”

“What?!” Bryn and I exclaimed in unison.

“Cal a, you can’t jerk around like that; I’l either stab you or ruin your hair,” Sabine said, unfazed.

I grabbed her wrist, but she continued to gaze calmly at me.

“What are you talking about, Sabine?” I said slowly.

The corners of her mouth turned up slightly, as if she were the only one aware of a hilarious, private joke. “You can’t be serious, Cal a. Don’t you know?”

I frowned and glanced at Bryn, whose bewildered expression was giving way to one of astonishment.