A King's Weakness (Book 1)

Chapter 11

A RINGING SOUND ASSAULTS MY EARS, grating against the inside of my head like nails on a chalkboard. The sound morphs into a dull thud, matching my my pulse as I draw in ragged breaths.

My vision slowly returns to me, still faintly fuzzy around the edges. Soft, damp earth embraces my hands, acting as a cushion against my palms. My body feels infinitely heavy, every muscle filled with lead. Just blinking feel likes an impossible task, but I manage.

Everything slowly begins to come into focus.

Ryder lies crumpled at the base of a tree, groaning softly. The thick trunk of the cedar is badly chipped, bark sprinkled haphazardly on the ground. The dent in the tree looks like a crater—a Ryder-sized crater.

Eli forces himself to stand, shaking off dirt from his golden coat as he hurries to his alpha's side. He flashes me an appraising glare, quickly deciding that I'm not a threat in my weakened, gasping state, before turning back and studying Ryder.

My stomach roils uneasily as I watch Ryder attempt to stand, then fall with a wince.

I did this. I hurt him.

I don't know how it happened or where the rage came from, but I do know that I caused the invisible wave that tossed both him and Eli like rag dolls through the air. I could have killed them.

"Cal," Ryder croaks, struggling to get his legs underneath him. He grimaces, leaning heavily on the large wolf beside him. "Calla, are you alright?"

My jaw opens and closes mechanically as I struggle for words. He looks badly hurt, but it doesn't seem to deter him.

"Calla?" His voice is strangled, thick with concern.

Why in the hell is he worried about me?

Eli is shooting daggers at me from his honey colored eyes. If looks could kill, I would be long dead. Happily.

"Me?" I finally gasp, forcing myself to stand, leaving behind the soft mercy of the soil. I realize faintly that I'm trembling. "I-I did that to you. I could've killed you, and you're worried about me?" My voice is a ghost of a whisper, and my teeth click together more loudly than my words.

I feel blind panic rising in my chest, threatening to suffocate me.

My god, what have I done?

Ryder takes an unsteady step towards me, one hand gripped tightly in Eli's fur to help him balance, the other outstretched to me.

"Hey, I'm okay. Wolves are hardy—I'll heal," Ryder says with a goofy grin. "Eli's thrown me around rougher than that."

I recoil from his hand, stumbling backwards. "I'm so sorry, Ryder," I whisper, heart in my throat. "I don't know what happened—it was like an explosion. I couldn't control it." I'm gasping for breath in between the words, barely managing to choke back a wave of emotions—shame, fear, regret.

"I'm sorry," I repeat, turning my gaze down to study my hands—the same hands I have had my entire life, but now they look entirely different to me. Now they look deadly.

"Calla," Ryder finally murmurs in a gentle voice meant only for me. "Please look at me."

I close my eyes, trying to prevent tears from falling. I will not cry.

"Cal." I force myself to look at him, to meet his piercing blue gaze. "It's okay, really. I'm okay." He stretches, popping his back like he just woke up from a nap. His motions emphasize his words, and I feel relieved to know that he truly is going to be fine.

A different pit begins to form in my stomach; maybe Ryder can heal in no time, but what if the next person I accidentally hurt isn't able to just get up and walk it off?