“No, I can’t,” I whine. “I mean I can, but I don’t want to.”
“You must,” she hisses. “You must try if you want to save the people you came for. You must try.”
I sniff and wipe my nose with the back of my hand. The cold of the basement has seeped into my fingers, making them as numb as my feet. “And if I fail?”
“Then you fail, but at least, you tried.” She lowers her voice. “I cannot stay. I must leave you. But Jinx?”
“Hmm?”
“You are capable of more than you believe. There is no right choice here.” A small drafty breeze tickles my cheeks.
“Eliza?” I whisper as footsteps begin descending the steps. “Eliza?” There’s no answer, and my heart beats in my ears.
Shit.
I scramble to my feet as the light from a flashlight dances across the basement floor. I shield my face when the light reaches my eyes.
“What’s going on?” I ask the approaching person.
“We have the pendant,” says the voice. Aaron, I realize. He slides a key into the lock of my cage. The sound of the rattling and twisting metal makes me tug the blanket tighter around me. “The real pendant.”
“You saw Jacob,” I guess.
“Yes,” he answers softly. The door creaks as he swings it open. He holds a hand out to me, and I glance at it nervously. “Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be, Jinx. The last thing I want is to cause you harm, and harm is what he will bring if you don’t obey.”
I cock my head to the side. “I was right. You don’t approve of Wice.”
He lets out a deep sigh. “What I want doesn’t matter.”
“But it does,” I hiss, aware of my volume and anyone else who might be listening. “It does. You’re their beta. If I give you your wolf back, you could challenge him.”
“We don’t even know if this will work!” he yells. We both stiffen, surprised at his outburst.
“You don’t think I can do it?”
“I don’t know. All I know is being Wice’s beta doesn’t mean shit.” He wipes his hand across his face then holds it back out for me to take again. “It’s not the first time Wice has led us down a path that doesn’t settle well with me. I’ll endure it, and I suggest you do the same.”
My eyes zone in on his hand, his thumb twirling a ring on his finger in the flashlight’s light. “What has he done to you, Aaron? What does he hold over you to make you stay?”
He blinks at me for several breaths then whispers, “He has something over everyone. It’s how Wice works. For me, I was unfortunate enough to fall in love with a human. A male human.”
Shoulders drooping, I mutter, “And humans aren’t allowed into the Bane Pack.”
“Wice still believes in the old ways – the ways before the laws of our nature changed by the new fee ruling the realms.” He snorts at my surprised expression. “Just because we didn’t fight in the Realms War doesn’t mean we didn’t hear the news.”
“So what happened?”
“I was given an ultimatum. Leave the man I love, and he lives, or stay with him, and he dies.”
“You left him.”
He tucks his chin. “To save his life.”
I stare at his hand and nibble the inside of my cheek. “I can do it. I can return your wolf.” He chuffs, but I ignore it. “You’re a good person, Aaron. I can feel it. When this is over, I hope you do the right thing.”
“What’s right and wrong doesn’t exist in this pack.”
“Maybe not,” I murmur and cautiously slide my hand into his. “But maybe I can tip the scale just a bit.” Within the next pounding beat of my heart, I use our physical connection to latch onto this spirit. In this one second, I twine his spiritual ribbon around a mental finger. He groans, and his fingers loosen against my hand. Worry wiggles its way into my chest when he rips his hand away and staggers inside the other cell’s bars. The flashlight drops to the ground, spins, and comes to a final rest, pointing at Aaron.
“Aaron?” I whisper, tentatively stepping out of my cell. He’s bent over and vomiting in the cell across from mine. I wait and worry as he gags and wretches.
Finally, when the heaving stops, he looks back at me. “What the hell did you do to me?”
I approach him warily. Then, I hold out my own hand. “I’m helping you.”
“Why?”
“Because I think we both want the same thing.”
He leans his back against the bars and closes his eyes, staving off another round of nausea. I’m still attached to his spirit, still have it in a mental grip. “You have no idea what I want.”
“I do. I can feel it in your soul.” He blinks down at me as if the word soul had caught his attention. “You have to trust me. Do you trust me?”
Jaw flexing, he continues to wrestle with indecision – with his desires and loyalties – just as I have in the past. I imagine trust doesn’t come easy for him. I imagine he’s had it far worse than I when it comes to betrayals.
I hold out my hand to him just as he did for me moments ago. “Do you trust me?”
With a swallow, he nods and takes my hand.
“Then this is what we will do.”
Five minutes later, he and I are climbing the steps. Per instruction, he leads me like a captive. Raw hope has settled in both of us. Hope we will both survive this. Hope that things may be turning in our favor.
“Remember what we discussed,” I whisper to him once we reach the main floor. As we shuffle along, I twist my lips while examining our unconvincing demeanor. I crook a mental finger, commanding his spirit, and force his hand to roughly grab my elbow.
Satisfied, albeit wincing at my own rough treatment, I return to the task at hand – our march back to the sanctuary. He frowns down at me, a scowl so deep I fear he may verbally reprimand me for manipulating his body. I shrug as if to remind him it has to be convincing.
Once we reach the large room, shifters are waiting anxiously, blocking our view to the front where Wice surely sits on his throne. They’re giddy, excited, full of anxiety that I may not be able to pull this off. Aaron squeezes my arm in reassurance, a gentle reminder that I can do this. A reminder not to get us both killed.
“Let them through,” Wice orders, and the crowd slowly parts, revealing . . .
I pause and blink at the front of the room. Shaman and skinwalkers are lined on the steps ascending to Wice. Their faces are dirty and grave, and their clothes are ill-fitted, hanging off their malnourished bodies. I scan the faces while each set of eyes meets mine – then diverts as if I’m the cause for their pain – as if I’m the cause for this predicament they find themselves in.
I suck in a breath when I see Kaya. She stands to the left of Wice’s chair, nervously pulling her fingers as her eyes line with unshed tears at the sight of me.
“Kaya,” I whisper so quietly I doubt anyone else heard.
Behind her is another girl. I don’t know why I’m surprised, but I am; she’s the same age as me. A younger version of her mother. An almost sister to myself. Kaya’s daughter. This girl is Malila.
“Don’t be shy,” Wice jests loudly, grinning from ear to ear. “Family reunions always set the mood.” He snaps his fingers. Malila steps forward and hands him my father’s leather book. Her fingers shake when she retreats to a spot by her mother’s side. Not once did she glance at me, study me, or question who I am.