Page 6 of Rising Reign

I started to back away, looking for a weapon in the room, but the healer was faster. She whispered an incantation and then blew the powder toward me. “Remember, Wren. Remember.”

The moment the particles and spell hit me, so did the memories. It was as if I was watching the events from above: the guys standing around me in the medical room, my body shredded. I recognized the clothing. It was the same as I’d been wearing when the Death Walkers took me. This woman was there, too.

The so-called memories came in flashes, snatches of a few seconds of a reel, but one thing was clear. This woman had been…healing me. She must have been the one who’d saved me when I was close to death. The one I’d never met in a conscious state.

I jerked myself out of the spell-induced haze and stumbled back a step. “You healed me,” I rasped.

She placed a finger to her lips, and I knew why. Listening ears could be anywhere. “Hera. Nice to meet you officially.”

I blinked and mouthed, “What are you doing here?”

“There’ll be time for that later. First, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Hera pulled out another pouch and rolled it between her hands as she chanted. She moved closer, pouring the contents over my head as she continued her incantation. The herbs swirled around me, lighting in the air until they slammed into me all at once.

I sucked in a breath. It didn’t hurt, exactly. It felt more like someone had injected me with pure adrenaline. My heart raced, and my pulse thrummed. Everything sped up to superspeed around me. And then it all just…stopped.

Time froze for a count of three and then returned to normal. I looked down at myself. The mud and blood were gone, along with the injuries. I felt…good. More than good. I felt the strongest I had in months.

“W-what did you do?” I stammered.

“What Bastian asked.” She tapped her ear to indicate that someone was listening. “I healed you.” She slowly strode across the room, pressed something into my hand, and leaned in. “Be ready.”

A moment later, she was gone, the door closing and locking behind her. I slowly uncurled my fingers and found a knife. One I recognized. One that made my eyes sting as I read the single word etched into the handle.

KINGSTON.

4

WREN

Music blared from somewhere outside, carrying with it the sounds of drunken revelry. It took a lot of alcohol to get a wolf shifter drunk, but the Red River pack was always up for the challenge. Bastian’s bloodlust must have been satiated by whoever battled after me, turning him on to different entertainment.

I lay on the bed, knowing I should try to sleep but terrified to shut my eyes. Hera’s words echoed over and over in my mind. “Be ready.”

I was scared to let hope find a home in my chest. Afraid to believe the guys might be planning some sort of rescue mission. Just thinking about it had fear grabbing hold. The Arcane pack had five wolves. Red River consisted of almost one hundred now. It was no contest. The guys would be slaughtered.

Everything in me twisted, pulling taut. I couldn’t be responsible for something happening to them. Couldn’t handle a world without them in it.

My door swung open, and I leapt to my feet. The knife Hera had given me—tucked into my side beneath the jeans someone had laid out for me—flared hot with my awareness of it. But I didn’t reach for it. Not even when Marcelle strode into the room.

His upper lip curled. “Your father wants you at the party.”

I didn’t say anything. Figured that was my only weapon at the moment. But I braced, ready if Marcelle made a wrong move.

He grabbed my arm and hauled me downstairs. “Bastian thinks that healer knows all, but I think we could beat you bloody, and you could carry my young all the same.”

I did everything I could not to shiver as nausea rolled through me at his words.

Marcelle waited for me to say something, anything. When I didn’t, he let out a low growl and dragged me outside. “I’ll be hearing you scream in no time.”

His words sliced through the loud country music, and I knew they’d live in my nightmares forever. Marcelle hauled me through the crowd as people danced and drank. Couples made out or ground against each other—a few were even having sex out in the open.

Bastian sat on the dais again, watching it all, Lilli at his side and Hera hovering nearby. My stomach flipped. I wanted to believe I could trust her, but trust didn’t come easily to someone like me.

Marcelle continued shoving me through the crowd until we reached something that hadn’t been there earlier. A fucking cage. He grinned at me. “Your father wants you here, but he’s not taking any chances this time. Get inside.”

I didn’t move at first, still too shocked by the metal bars that looked like something from the Middle Ages.