Page 7 of Beast and Remedy (The Last of the Heirs #2)

Why Am I Overthinking?

T he wolf charges, and a blur of gold stumbles from the shattered disarray, heading for the window.

Terror freezes me in place as my sister thrusts it open, gripping the metal frame before disappearing through it.

“Marian!” I yell as the creature follows her, vanishing from sight.

I rush to the opening, the wind blowing my waves in front of my face. Sweeping the loose strands back, I peer at the ground, trying to find any signs of Marian and the beast.

Grass rustles and I lift my gaze. Something sprints into Haliver Woods.

“Marian!” I holler, but a huff from my right startles me.

My sister hangs from the lip of the window, clinging to it.

I grab the latch and reach for her with my free hand. Heaving through the pulling of my body, I guide her toward the castle and close the opening.

Her hold loosens on the frame when her feet land on the threshold, and she crashes against me. The two of us fall, and my head hits the cold stone.

“Ow!” I grit out, clutching Marian’s dress.

Small shards poke through the back of my gown as Marian swerves off me, allowing more broken glass to pinch me. Hissing, I, too, roll to my side, slower than my sister, who dusts off her clothes.

“We should go after it,” she says with determination.

“We can’t. Besides, it’s probably long gone by now.” I struggle as I ease up. “You’re injured.”

She inspects her red-stained slippers before meeting my worry with nonchalance and an outstretched palm. “I’ve had worse.”

I take her offered hand, groaning as I rise. Glass clings to my dress, and I swipe it away as Marian wobbles to the storage closet.

“I swore I locked it before leaving,” she whispers, her features furrowing as she examines the damaged cage. “But I don’t understand why it was acting like that .”

“You gave it the pain tonic, right?”

She nods. “I even pulled the book with the recipe to make sure I didn’t mess up.” Her brown eyes meet mine, filled with regret as she gestures to the smashed vials, the ripped books, journals, and pamphlets all destroyed.

Days blended into nights with how much time I spent in my alchemy room collecting supplies, reading, and learning.

I created and crafted remedies for me, Marian, and my family. I’ve even shared my concoctions with our healers. I’ve treated animals.

And now…

Every record, every ingredient, every bit of information I’ve gathered…

It’s all ruined. Swiped away like it never was.

It’s all gone .

Everything I’ve lived for and achieved in this room these last few years presses against my chest, squeezing my heart. Tightness builds in my throat as my disappointment and woe churn into frustration, trying to fray the threads of my composure I fight and keep a tight lock on.

I clench my fists as I push down my emotions, refraining from lashing out as Marian and I sit in heavy silence.

Marian’s blood stings my nostrils, and I use her injury as a distraction. “Let me tend to your feet.”

She agrees solemnly, the happiness pouring from her this evening vanished.

After grabbing bandages, I help her from the tattered section of my study.

I lower us to the ground, careful the space is clear of debris, before I ease her legs onto my lap. Removing her slipper and inspecting her feet, a few tiny pieces are lodged in her toes and ankles.

“I have to remove some glass, but a bandage and ointment will help with the pain and healing,” I say.

She looks to the disarray of my office, and I grimace, trying to not let her overthink it.

“It is going to be alright.” I pat her thigh twice and then rise to see if I have any salvageable ingredients.

“Is it, though?”

Her defeated voice halts me as I view my destroyed collection.

Each vial knocked down from its stored home, ingredients scattered and mixed, the essence of a few blending with the smell of blood. A churning in my stomach refuses to settle through my further inspection of the ruined items covered in bite marks and scratches.

My chest tightens as I find my tweezers amidst the mess, my dark thoughts returning tenfold. What if this was something I did?

Gulping, I brush off the wolf’s escape, keeping my reactions neutral as I face Marian.

Her distant features furrow. “What is it?”

“What is what?” I deflect, sinking down, tool in hand.

She scoots away from my reach, her voice hardening. “What are you not telling me? I can see through you.”

Her brown eyes soften with concern, and I slump.

“I think—I think the wolf ingested something to cause its reaction. It could have been before you brought it to my study. Expired ingredients, bad meat—it could be anything. Maybe even the medicine we gave it exacerbated it and backfired, bringing some underlying issue to the surface.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose, frustration seeping through. “It’s my fault for having animals in here in the first place. I should have known something like this would happen. I never should’ve set out on helping them—helping myself.”

“Vi,” Marian sighs.

“It’s true, and we both know it,” I snap, my failure to protect, to help, and to provide clenching my very soul.

Marian ignores my lashing out, squeezing my shoulder twice. She doesn’t need to see me like this.

I take a deep breath, trying to cool my anger by tending to my sister’s feet.

“We should go after it,” Marian says in the silence. “I know I will worry about its well-being as much as you will if we don’t.”

I shake my head, wrapping a bandage around her. “We can’t sneak out while guests are here.”

“Sweet Makers, Vi. Have you ever rebelled once in your life?”

“Besides the animals we bring in here? No.”

I have. But it’s not like I am ever going to tell her.

“Good, well, now is the time to start.” Marian stands, squinting her eyes and locking her jaw in determination. “Let’s go change, and I’ll get my bow.”

I rise and push against her chest. “I’ll go. This is my mess, and I have to fix it.”

Marian plants her hands on her hips. “Since when did I trade in my bow for your books?”

“I am not the best hunter, but I know how to track,” I remind her.

My knowledge of hunting stems from hundreds of books I have read while learning more about my abilities. Tracking, however, seems natural and instinctual in my bear form.

She pauses, her shoulders sinking. “You’re going to shift again? But I thought you could only shift based off your magic’s tether?”

A phantom snapping flashes in my mind, and I swallow before nodding.

I hadn’t ever attempted to shift beyond my own ability’s pull. But if I caused the wolf more pain by bringing it into my home and giving it something that worked against itself and chose to ignore it? What kind of person—what kind of ruler would that make me?

I need to help it.

Instead of taking Marian to her room, I opt for mine.

The large bay windows beckon the moonlight and stars to shine and illuminate my quarters. Maroon curtains I always keep draped back match the bedding on my four-poster bed, unmade and unkempt like the rest of the living area.

I don’t allow any staff here unless absolutely necessary, fearful one might discover the loose stone behind my nightstand and find the stockpile of letters I’ve saved for years.

Small traces of his memory still linger, making it harder to spend time here. And rather than clear it out, it remains. Like broken pieces of my soul, I’m too devastated—too pained to think I can ever get back.

The bed sinks as I help Marian in, tucking the blankets around her before I change into the red dress from this morning.

My power stirs in my blood, and a small ache in my bones pulses as a reminder of my earlier shift. I shake off the nerves and slip on my boots.

“Do you have any weapons?” Marian asks.

“Only a dagger. But it’s not like that will help me much,” I joke, and she scowls. “Oh, don’t give me that look. You know I wasn’t as good as you in those lessons.”

I can wield weapons sure enough, but doing it with skill and proficiency like her and other royals? Not so much.

“Take my bow with you,” she suggests as I grab my cloak and fasten the tie.

“Now what good will that do if I’m a bear?”

Marian fidgets as I kiss her forehead. “I’ll be alright.”

She takes my forearm and squeezes twice. “Remember, if you hear—”

“I’ll be fine. ”

She presses her lips together, reluctant, but caves and releases me, bidding me good luck.

Wandering down the wing, I struggle to remove her warning from my mind, knowing it was voiced because Mama’s demise was met when she, too, went into the woods alone.

Exactly seven years ago.

Sorrow hangs my head low as I sneak into the forest, remembering the chain of events leading to Mama’s death.

I wasn’t there when her body was returned to our castle steps in the middle of a hunting trip. And I wasn’t there for my family or my kingdom in their time of grieving.

All because an unknown force scorched underneath my skin and pulled me from my room, dragging me into the wild.

Magic forced its way into my veins, tears streamed down my cheeks from the pain, and Mama’s ethereal voice murmured repeated apologies. And the forlorn anguish taking over my soul knew it was because she was gone .

I was blindsided and utterly alone as my body shredded and ripped apart every crevice of myself and my grief, snuffing it out until only a beast roaring and fighting the forceful tether of power remained.

The pit in my stomach deepens from the memory, and I inhale the crisp autumn breeze as each step inches me closer to the tree line. That same foreboding sensation creeping forth.

A deep onyx night reigns over the starless sky while fog, cultivated from the changing seasons, disperses at the edges of the wild. The worn-down path of grass cushions my strides as I clutch my dagger.

I swallow thickly through my exertion, refraining from imagining the agony of shifting as a bead of sweat trickles along my face. The hair on the back of my neck rises, aware of the familiar and dangerous sounds of the forest.