Curse of Ferreus

23 - Throwing Caution to the Wind

A sudden bout of dizziness has me clutching the table to steady myself. "Fuck," I hiss. They know exactly where I am.

The werewolves are still staring at me, quiet and watchful. It hits me like a strike to the face. They're waiting on my orders. Without Rowan and the others here, they're expecting me to guide them. To lead them.

What good will fear be? Rowan's voice murmurs in my head; a gentle caress. That is not our way.

Orion would wrestle back control. He'd storm out and let his Haze guide him and he wouldn't care who got in his way as long as the threat was gone. So would Liliana and my mother. Esme would be right on their heels, eager and vengeful. Myles would grab a sword to make a spectacle and a fool of himself.

But I am not them.

I blow out a heavy breath, my gaze drifting over the werewolves. They're scared— just like I am. My family are closing in and one of their friends is dead.

Rowan and the others are off forging an alliance with Duskland, doing their part to make these woods safer. It's time I take a leaf out of his book and start doing things the compassionate way. He's a bad influence.

"Everything will be alright," I say, not entirely sure if I'm trying to convince them or myself. I toss the note onto the table and glare at it. "They're getting desperate and it's making them act without planning. We can use that. Make sure no one is patrolling alone— stay in groups of three or more and do not let your guard down, even if you're behind your own borders. Territory means nothing to them."

As the others nod and rush from the room, eager to support those wolves still out patrolling, Kay stays behind.

"Are you alright?" they ask, taking a tentative step forwards, brows pinching.

"Not really," I admit, rubbing at my temples.

Leaden understanding flickers behind their perceptive gaze. "I'm sorry about your family. No one should have to suffer like this."

"I'm sorry about Finn."

My family don't care who gets caught up in this feud between us. If they're going to cause chaos to get to me, it's only fair I make things right and stop them from hurting anyone else. This is between me and them, no one else.

It's my fault Rowan and his pack are suffering. I should have been more careful, covered my tracks, stayed underground until they gave up searching— no matter how long it took.

Rowan's pack trust me to keep them safe, and it stirs unpleasant memories. I can't ignore the chasm eating away at my chest. Esme needed my help on the night of the raid and I couldn't reach her in time. I convinced myself her death was the wolf's fault for biting her, but it was only retaliating. That pack wasn't hurting anyone when I shot that arrow and Esme threw that canister and we let hellfire rain down on them.

And now my family are forcing their way through werewolves — Duskland and Crescent Moon alike — to get to me. They won't stop until they have me.

I couldn't save Esme from her fate, and that failure will haunt me for the rest of my life. But perhaps I can save Rowan's pack from an untimely end at the hands of hunters who are only after one thing. Me.

"I need some air," I mutter, stalking past Kay and out into the hallway before they can respond or ask if I'm alright again. Absently, I check the blades at my waist. Nowhere near enough, but they are all I have. I'll make do.

My nerves buzz with little static shocks of dread and every breath I take feels shallow and empty. Like Rowan's parley, my own plan is reckless and foolish and nowhere near ready for execution, but I do not have any time left. No one else is dying because of me. I won't hide behind the walls of Rowan's family and wait for my own to fight their way to me.