Moonfall | Book Two

CHAPTER 26

The snow crunched beneath Michael's feet as he walked the castle grounds. Other than the inconvenience of a particularly heavy snowfall, winter weather did not bother him, but the chill in the air was so fierce that not even the midday sun could lessen its sting. The slight breeze whirling around forced him to shove his hands in his coat pockets and lower his head to protect his face from its unwavering assault.

He could have very well gone back inside the castle, but the outdoors offered the solitude he would not get were he to return. And besides, he could not remember the last time he had time truly to himself.

For weeks, time had not been his own, and was so entirely divided between the Woodlands and the castle that this sudden few hours free of any courting, pack meeting, secret meeting, or quest was... strange. But he was not going to let it go to waste, even if he had nothing in particular to fill that time with.

And so he kept walking—around the castle, past the burial grounds, and before he knew it, he was in front of the tall hedged garden labyrinth in the back courtyard, standing in the very spot the wolf and fairy from the past—Raphael and Kora—first met. The dagger was not on his person, but he did not need it for the memory it had shown him of that very night to come forth in his mind.

As if he had been there, Michael smelled the sweetness in the air as the breeze blew Kora's scent in Raphael's direction. As if he was Raphael, he felt a deep warmth spread throughout his own chest as Raphael marveled over her unprecedented beauty. He felt his own chest tighten, the strong urge to protect, and raging need to claim the moment their two worlds collided, and witnessed the unavoidable fate of two becoming one.

But then the memory morphed into one of his own—the night his and Ellette's worlds collided and brought forth a similar fate.

The sweetness in the air became overpowered by the metallic scent of his blood. The warmth in his chest was replaced by a deep coldness caused by the poison slowly spreading throughout his body. And the internal fight to claim became a fight to live because his life was slipping away.

Michael forced his eyes open to stop the memory from venturing off any further. He let out a heavy sigh before lowering his head and staring at the ground. Normally, he would have beat himself up over slipping up, but it was the first time he was able to go half a day without thinking of her.

That, at least, was progress.

"Michael?"

The sound of his name made him lift his head. When he turned it to the left, he saw his Aunt Emilia standing no more than five feet away, her blue eyes wide and full of worry as she stared at him. "Are you alright?"

He forced a smile. "I am fine, Aunt Emilia. Just a bit of a headache."

It was not entirely untrue as every thought of Ellette did cause him pain to some degree.

She crossed over to him and reached out to grab hold of his arm. "We should get you back inside. The cold is certainly not going to do you any favours."

"'Tis really not too bad."

She only continued to stare at him, scanning her eyes over his face before meeting his gaze. "Then shall we at least escape this ferocious wind? It has been ages since I last entered the labyrinth, but I am certain I still remember the way to its core. What do you say?"

Michael was not particularly in the mood to hang out with his aunt, but he had a feeling she would not take no for an answer. The fact she was roaming outside alone and not by his mother or Danica's side—the only two places he ever found her—meant either she, too, found herself with a bit of free time, or she had been looking for him.