He grunts. When I pull back to look up at him, his gaze is glued to that altar. "I wonder how long it took for them to realize they had been abandoned."
"Don't think like that," I protest. "You're not being fair to yourself. It's not as if you planned for Riekki to betray you. You're not to blame for your followers leaving."
He frowns down at me, and his gaze goes to my arm. He gently takes my wrist in his grip and shakes his head. "And I am so powerless I cannot even heal this. Truly, the High Father aims to humble his sons." Kassam rubs his thumb over the inside of my wrist. "Does it pain you much?"
"It's okay," I say, deciding not to go into too much detail. I don't want him feeling worse than he already does. "Give it a day and it'll feel good as new." Unless I contract rabies, but I decide not to point that out.
"I should clean them for you," Kassam declares. "I will carry you back to our waterfall and I will tend to your wounds, and then I will lick your cunt until you forget all about this place."
Something tells me I'm not the one that needs to forget about this place, but if Kassam wants to lose himself in hedonism for a bit to ease the pain, I get it. And if I get a few hours of mind-blowing oral sex out of it? I'd be a madwoman to complain. "It'll make me feel better," I admit. "But what about the wolves?"
To my surprise, he rolls his eyes. "The conmac. Always with the power plays." His expression hardens and he glances over his shoulder. "You've proved your point. You've shown me the temple and she is appropriately scared. Good job. Hopefully you are satisfied now."
One of the wolves moves forward, growling low in his throat. He stalks a short distance away from us, circling, as the others watch from the shadows.
I'm still a little thrown by his words. "Conmac? These are your wolf sons? The ones you forced to defend your forests?" No wonder they don't seem pleased to see him. Somewhere under those shiny midnight coats and glowing yellow eyes are people. Fae people, but people nevertheless.
"I cannot read their thoughts like the birds," Kassam says, a frown on his face. "They are not truly wild, despite their forms. They are choosing to be nature's creatures, even though the fae were born in Belara's realm." He lifts his chin, indicating the wolves. "You have proved your point. Change back so we may speak on this."
The wolf in front of us sits down on his haunches. I could almost swear he's displeased. Another rubs his nose, the golden ring flashing.
Kassam sucks in a breath. He clutches my shoulder tightly, and his body goes stiff.
"Are you okay?"
"I am feeling more grief, Carly." There is a panicked note in his voice. "I need it to stop."
"Why? What's wrong?" I glance at him, then at the wolves that watch him so very patiently. I can't recall everything he told me about them, just that he gave them wolf-skins so they could run through the forests and…I watch as another rubs his nose with one large, dangerous-looking paw, the ring glinting in the late afternoon sunlight. A new idea occurs to me. "They can't change back, can they?"
Kassam stares out at the wolves, his expression hollow. "I told you that I forced them to guard the forests, yes?"
I nod.
"They did not wish to serve. They refused, and I grew angry that they were being selfish. So I…forced them into their skins. Locked them into their wolf forms with a magic ring that I promised to remove once the Anticipation was over." His jaw clenches. "They are…still waiting. They have been waiting all this time."
Oh. Oh god. "They've been wolves—"
"All this time. Yes. And even now, I cannot free them. Because the magic I used to bind them into their forms is only available to me—"
"—when you return. Which means I need to die."
The look he gives me is fierce. "You're not going to die. We're going to figure a way around it, wife."
The way he says “wife” is utterly charged, as if daring me to dispute him. "Okay," I say softly, sensing he's fraying a bit at the edges. "We'll add this to our to-do list. We take down Riekki, get you home, and free the wolves."
"The conmac." Kassam suddenly looks very, very tired. "I have done you wrong, my wolf sons. I swear I will make it up to you. Somehow."
The wolves merely blink their glowing yellow eyes at us.
33
"They hate me," Kassam says dully as I place sticks in the makeshift fire pit we've created.
I'm not entirely sure what to say to that. Being trapped as a wolf for a thousand-plus years? Yeah, I could definitely see them hating him. But Kassam doesn't seem to be handling this well, so I try to gentle my response. "I'm sure they're unhappy, but we're doing everything we can. They've waited this long, they can wait a few more weeks."
"It is their right to hate me." Kassam picks up one of the twigs out of the fire pit I'm carefully arranging and tosses it away in frustration. "I was selfish and trapped them. I never thought anything would happen to me. I was foolish and arrogant."
When he reaches for another stick, I smack his hand, earning myself a scowl. "I'm trying to build a fire here."
"Why?" he asks, sulky.
I gesture at the skies. "Because it's going to rain. There's a storm coming in." I add a few more of the twigs and sticks I carefully gathered on our silent walk back to the glade, trying not to lose my temper. It's been a shitty day for me, too, what with being attacked and all, and now it's getting cold. It's almost dark, the temperature is dropping, and we have no shelter. The magic wolves, the conmac, have followed us back to the glade and are even now snarling their anger from the shadows.
And now Kassam is upset and taking it out on me, because there's no one else to take it out on.
At my mention of the weather, though, he turns his face to the heavens. When rolling thunder crackles overhead, his expression becomes even more downcast. "Do you hear that? Aron, Lord of Storms, is back in his domain." He glares at the skies. "I am trapped here, and my brothers return to their rightful homes."
"That means that his anchor is dead," I shoot back. "Do you really want that?"
"You know I do not!" Kassam gets to his feet, storming away. "I do not want to feel this guilt, either. Or this grief. I am tired of these human emotions, Carly. I do not like it!"
I give up on the fire. It's not like I know how to make a flame anyhow. Tossing down the sticks, I trail after Kassam. The deer follow me, licking at my hand and nibbling at my jeans and making cute nuisances of themselves. He is by the water, his arms crossed over his chest, absolutely glowering. I move to his side and rub his back, trying to think of the words to comfort him. What exactly do you say to someone that fucked over a bunch of people for a thousand years?
I decide a distraction is the best medicine. Patting his back, I offer, "Do you want a finger in your ass to make you feel better?"
"Do not make me laugh, Carly. I am upset. Truly." He struggles to keep his face straight, and I can tell that Kassam is pleased that I made a joke, but he's still punishing himself. "I have disappointed the conmac. I have abandoned the faithful." He shakes his head. "I dreamed of returning for so long, and I did not realize I would be coming back to"—he gestures at his surroundings—"this."