Hekate’s Bride

Last night

I woke up parched and oddly restless. I realize only a moment later that Sloan’s restless. Not me.

The thing about being werewolves is being constantly aware of the other ethereal being with which you share your skin with. Accepting them. Becoming one with them. Shifting is usually the final stage in accepting this.

Lycans have it worse, I guess. Theirs is more feral and there is rarely ever a point of ‘mutual agreement’ between them and their beasts. It is either they dominate them or they get dominated by it.

Sloan’s is usually calm and barely ever says a word. She interjects sometimes but that’s about it. She sleeps, and watches. On the days I shift and she has control, I have no idea what she does… I’d say I got an easy going wolf on my hands. A great contrast from everything that I am.

So, it is strange to wake up to her whining, especially when I am exhausted with aches everywhere in my body and I am fucking trying to sleep.

What? I snap at her.

Run, she says.

What? Now? You want to run now? It isn’t the full moon yet, and there’s a curfew. There’s literally nowhere to let you run free.

She is quiet for a bit and just when I start to doze again, she starts to tap on the mental wall that divides my consciousness from hers.

Oh for the love of the Goddess, would you just let me sleep, Sloan?

I’m hungry, she says and I can almost see the foul expression on her furry face.

Tomorrow.

Now.

Where am I gonna get food right now? There is a fucking curfew. The cafeteria is closed till morning.

She yowls suddenly and I groan, getting out of my bed. Bloody hell. I grab my robe and wrap it around my body. Even I do not get this sort of cravings out of the blue.

I open the door slightly and peek outside. I frown when I notice the lack of sentinels on my floor. Are they switching shifts now? There were about seven of them here after dinner, and it’s been like that every day since they got shipped here in their fancy uniforms.

I step outside and shut the door quietly behind me. I let Sloan do the sniffing around and she nudges me down the hallway. I walk past as quietly as I can but my slippers keep making squishy sounds that make my cheeks flame, even if no one’s around to hear it.

Further down the hallway, there is the stairwell.

I’ve only ever been up. I’ve never gone down.

Down is where the exit doors are.Content is property of NôvelDrama.Org.

But Sloan is directing down the stairs. It’s either my nose is broken or whatever she wants to eat is downstairs. That’s not plausible. There’s no food down there.

Still, she pulls me in that direction, urging my legs to move faster and faster and I am suddenly standing at the base of the stairwell.

I’d never really seen the doors before. They are massive, like two black gates reaching the skies. Their width is unending and their height is astounding. It is unreal for the first floor to have this because it looks like something that has been pulled from a different dimension. Alive in its own way. Sentient. Imposing and ominous in its sheer size and jet-black hue.

Its surface is slick and smooth, and seems to drink in the light, leaving only a sense of foreboding darkness in its wake.

I take another step forward, unable to resist the tug in that direction. Something calls to me. Something reaches for me, pulling me toward the door.

I follow it, nearly lost in a trance. Very nearly.

But that’s when I see him.

My breath hitches when I sight Rune walking forward. The sight of him walking to the door snaps me awake and I stumble a step back when I realize I am only a few steps away from it. Him. I hadn’t even realized when I moved.

The door yawns open and the air around me grows cold as death, filling me with an overwhelming sense of dread, as if the door itself is a gateway to the Great Void.

I dare a glance inside and I see only an endless void of inky blackness, devoid of any signs of life or light. A shiver runs down my spine as my instincts scream out in warning, telling me that something malevolent lurks beyond the threshold.

I want to run. I start to back away, but for each step I take, Rune takes one closer to the door.

“Rune!” I scream, but my voice is lost to the void. “Rune! Rune, stop!”

He can’t hear me, I realize, as he reaches out, touching the door.

I look back. WHERE ARE THE SENTINELS?!

His hair whips about him, as do his baggy clothes. His foot is bare, like he walked right out of bed.

I look at him take those steps outside the school and the void beyond and I think of all the things I’ve been through at his hands. I hate him, but… not him.

Fuck, I think as I race for him.

Swerving at the last second, I slam into him. We fall to the side, away from the door. I groan, lifting myself off Rune and ignoring the way my body melds into his, like a missing piece in a puzzle. I start to feel hot and I immediately feel disgusted at myself.

My glance shifts to Rune as I straighten and the pit of my stomach churn with dread when I see him eyes. They are wholly black and glazed. He rises to his feet, movements graceful but not quite belonging to him.

He doesn’t look at me. It’s like I do not even exist. He merely turns to the door and begins his journey to it again.

I lunge for him, blocking his path and grabbing his arms, shaking them violently. “Rune? Rune, wake up!”

There is no recognition in his dark eyes. His hand rises and with one smooth motion, he tosses me aside. More like flings me across the hall.

I’ve always known he was strong but this is insane. I crash into the nearest wall and I wheeze as pain sears through me. I stand almost immediately, my healing going faster than it usually would, possibly because of the dire situation.

Rune is almost at the threshold this time and as I run for him, I can almost see the darkness reaching for him and taking form around him.

Fear has me moving faster than I think possible and rather than try waking him up, I grab his arm and make a turn, pushing all of my strength into my arms as I hurl him across the room.

I’d like to think of it as petty, but a tiny bit of satisfaction comes over me as he slams hard into the wall and the sound of bones breaking fills the air. He’ll heal in a second, of course, knowing I just kicked and saved his sorry ass makes me have a little dance of joy inside.

I turn to the void and plant my foot to the ground, snarling as fiercely as I can. I feel Sloan under my skin and she fights to get out, to rip the darkness–if possible–to pieces. I imagine Hekate’s dark form behind the darkness and I say to him in a voice that is both mine and Sloan’s, “Fuck off. Keep your hands off him or I swear, I’ll find you and kill you.”

And I mean every single word.

The darkness pauses. Slightly. And as if it mocks me, it sends a cool wind in my direction, pushing me far from the door. Phantom hands reach for me and fingers graze my cheek, caressing it with a thumb I cannot see but feel.

I shiver, unable to move. The touch… it is familiar. I hate that it feels familiar. I hate that my body starts to relax, and so does Sloan.

Slowly, it pulls away, leaving me with a silent message. Mine.

The door slams shut, darkness disappearing without a single trace.

I sag, placing my hands on my knees and breathing hard.

Rune’s sharp groan has me turning around. He is bent on the ground and he stands on all fours, shaking his head and whimpering.

Something in my chest gives and I walk toward him, crouching on the floor in front of him. “You’re alright,” I whisper, not quite sure what the appropriate thing to say would be.

He growls, panting. “Gone,” he says repeatedly, as if trying to get used to words again.

I nod and cup his cheek, forcing him to meet my gaze. My eyes bear holes into his as I tell you. “He’s gone. You are here. Safe.”

He shakes his head and a single tear slides down his cheek. “Can’t. Control. Him.”

He’s not making much sense but at the sight of the single tear on his cheek, I lean in without thinking and press my lips against his cheek.