We Walk As Wolves

Chapter 28

Redd

Redd's body dragged like leaden weight through the island, trekking back to the tree where Wilder slept.

She knew he was sleeping; the heavy mass of clouds that had cloaked the moon proved it, releasing angry tears that plunged down toward the earth.

But Redd hardly felt it. If it hadn't been for her innate sense of every living and nonliving entity that dwelled on the island, she would have been dead hours ago.

Wilder's grin creeped into her head, but she shut her eyes and pushed it away, back into the darkness of the woods. She refused to think about the way Wilder would have smiled at her, crookedly, telling her nothing in the world could stop something like her with that enchanting gleam in his eyes, because suddenly it wasn't enough.

The only thing she allowed in her mind was Dells, his unrecognizable face, and the last of their conversation. It shot through her head like gushing water, strike after strike slashing at her brain.

"This is for the best, Redd. You have to see that. Once he's gone, once Cass kills him, they'll all go. The Island's inability to hold itself together, the monsters, the wolves -"

For some reason, that had hurt. "The wolves?"

"They're real, and they can be killed. But they weren't born, they were made. Just like any other monster. They don't remember why they're here or how they came to be. The only thing they know is the need to hunt - the desire to feed, to main, to kill. They were never taught anything else because that's what he needed them to be. They know only what the darkest parts of his mind know."

"The embodiments of his dreams - they're pieces of him?"

"The pieces that are too wild, too strong, for him to hold onto." He had paused, shot her a curious glance. "Sometimes, I think they're the pieces that he's missing."

She almost ran into the trunk of the tree. She stared down the bridge of her nose, watching the bark until it blurred before her eyes. Her lungs ached, like she was one of those bloated girls lying on the beach, cold, stinging water in places water shouldn't be.

She tipped her head back as ashes trickled onto her cheeks. Billowing gray smoke seeped through the leaves on the tree, spiraling up until it kissed the dark sky. He'd built a fire. He never had a fire. He wasn't supposed to feel cold. She swiped a hand across her face, smearing away the fire's dead pieces.

She wrapped her fingers around the lowest branch, but the rest of her body refused to climb.

She wondered, for a moment, how painful it would be to crack open her ribs and rip out her heart. Hand feed it to the first wolf that dared to come her way. It seemed easier than climbing up to him, seemed easier than looking into his eyes, seeing the wild gleam she'd learned to love, and the truth of it all hidden underneath. It was certainly easier than thinking about what Cass would do tomorrow, what she had been indirectly helping him do since the day he first arrived.

He killed them. He killed them.

He's killing them.

The rain ceased, and the voice came from behind her. "Have I ever told you that you look absolutely ravishing in the most dangerous, darkest parts of the night, love?"

Redd turned. He sunk back on his heels.

If he were anyone else, she knew he'd have taken a step back, a step away. His pride wouldn't allow it. But the shock of who she'd become on the walk back to him, the one that would have sent most men tumbling, was written on the hard lines of his face.