Page 77 of Beast and Remedy (The Last of the Heirs #2)

No matter how much I want to run over and wrap my arms around her, fear paints the image of her pushing me off my horse.

Then the depiction switches, altering to a moment where her lifeless gaze stares up at the ceiling of her bedchamber, and I cover her eyes, closing them for the last time. And when I pull my hand away from her, it’s drenched with a deep, sticky red liquid.

So. Much. Blood.

I swallow down that horrifying visualization, casting it so far within the depths of myself with the hope it will never resurface.

But the blood. Her blood.

So. Much. Blood.

Marian’s calm voice surrounds me.

I need you to breathe.

I inhale, needing to remain vigilant. But I can’t release my breath as I take her in now.

Scorn grips her like a vise, the infection slowly ripping her away from our friends. Our family. Me.

I can’t lose her. I can’t!

“She did nothing to you,” Beau’s calm voice states, and I spare a glance at the light illuminating him.

Marian straightens, sneering and readying to launch her wrath at another person. “You don’t know anything.” She flashes her teeth like she wants to bite Beau.

“I know you are hurting and are troubled,” he says, rays of light shimmering along his skin as he rounds the table, moving with grace toward Marian.

To my surprise, she doesn’t move. Rather, she looks like she wants to challenge him to a duel.

“Is that what your stupid power says?”

“It’s what your body tells my magic.” Beau closes the distance and takes her hand. “I see the darkness of the virus clouding your mind and the abyss of pain threatening to drag you under each time I heal you.”

“So, don’t heal me,” she snarls, trying to free herself from his grasp.

But neither Beau nor his magic relent. Gradually, his power seeps into Marian’s flesh, her veins illuminating as light travels up her arm, past her chest, and toward her scalp.

With a soothing, steady voice, Beau says, “You deserve to be healed. You deserve to have that abyss and darkness vanquished forever from you.”

She inhales sharply, body going rigid as he channels more magic into her. Her eyes drift closed, and she relaxes bit by bit until a faint glow emanates around her and Beau.

The brightness surrounding them lasts until he recalls his power, cutting my sister off from the only healing source that has kept her with us this long. And when she opens her eyes, she immediately lowers her head.

Leo pushes out from his seat, going straight to her side. “Marian?”

Air finally— mercifully —returns, and I muffle my choked gasps.

But Marian doesn’t respond, and I can’t fight against the mournful lament bearing down on my soul as grim expressions take over everyone’s features.

They know. They all know we’re running out of time.

I’m running out of time.

Marian is running out of time.

“I think it’s best if you retire to your rooms for the time being, Marian. Your body has been through a lot, and it’s going to get worse.” Beau hunches down, meeting her at eye level with the hope she will look up. But she doesn’t, and he tries for her attention again. “Do you know what happened?”

She shakes her head.

“You had a hallucination, and unfortunately, that’s another more serious symptom.”

Marian shudders, her hands covering her face. “I-I-I’m so sorry,” she chokes, her voice barely audible as she sobs.

Leo pulls her into his chest, and she buries herself into his tunic.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he consoles her as he glances to his brother, me, Jean, and Pierre. “Let me take her to her room?”

Jean and Pierre nod, and Leo leads my sister away.

The pain of her absence, her defeat, her loss of her own self radiates and takes over every muscle, nerve, and bone in my body.

Leo’s footsteps no longer fill the room with sound. No. The dining hall now carries a silence so heavy it threatens to break me. Bury me.

“How much time does she have?” Pierre asks, his voice low and guttural.

Grim, Vi. His voice is grim and haunted and pained because Marian’s death approaches, and none of you are going to walk away as the same person.

I sniff. “Not long.”

“If what the healers told us is true,” Beau starts, “hallucinations are the last symptom people have before they—”

“Die.” I school my features and push the pain, fear, and grief down in a place so far from my mind, so far from my heart, that I can continue.

Because if I don’t press on, I might die beside her.

“You should write to your father, Vi,” Jean suggests. “Tell him what is really going on.”

My magic surges forth, irritation and failure clutching my throat, making my voice clipped and tight. “I will not drag him into this. Not when I can still fix this.”

“And what if you can’t fix this?” Pierre asks, and I bristle. “He deserves to be here. Don’t rob him of another goodbye.”

I slam my fist on the table, unbothered by everyone startling and rearing back.

I don’t fucking care because I’m not going to let her down.

I will save her.

“NO ONE IS SAYING GOODBYE!” I growl, heat exploding across my skin as rage—protectiveness— determination —blazes through my veins.

Power ripples up my spine, and I lean into it, surrendering to the beast within as I face down Jean and Pierre with a lethal snarl seeping out. “I will not rob him of anything .”

Claws scrape through my knuckles.

“Vi, your hands!” Jules gasps, drawing everyone’s attention to my shifting.

But I don’t bother showing a hint of remorse. This bit of pain is something I welcome, something else to help me cast aside the fear riddling them.

There is no time for worry and anxiety to plague me and drown me.

Not when I need to save my sister.

“Now, have a little fucking faith in me and let me do what I am best at,” I grumble to Jean and Pierre, a deep roar vibrating in my chest.

A bit of mahogany fur curls outward from my arms and knuckles, and I take a long, deep breath, closing my eyes. The summoning of my power answers, returning my flesh and my knuckles to normal.

But the wrath and protection still thrash inside of me, needing an outlet.

Warmth spreads. I instantly recognize it and open my eyes to Beau.

“What do you need?” he asks, voice gentle.

The steady presence he brings is a comfort to me and my gifts, but I already feel the difference. If I don’t shift and suppress it, I might hinder and ruin all the progress I’ve made.

The pain might come back tenfold.

Or the curse might doom you, Vi.

Steering away from that morbid thought, I clear my throat, addressing Jean and Pierre. “Beau’s gifts help keep the infection at bay and give us more time than what the healers had with others. When I come back in the morning, I’ll begin my work.”

I turn to Marcel, Jules, and Christine. “We all are going to have sleepless nights from here on out, and I need you three to get the start on ratios for the final formula. I’ll leave Leo to entertain Marian as he has been keeping up her spirits the most. And Beau”—I twist to him, my heart skipping from his touch and closeness—“I’ll need you again for the shift tonight. ”

“It’s not safe out in the woods,” Jean says.

“And it’s not safe for me to avoid a shift. I need to do this, and Beau will be with me.”

“Are you sure you want Beau with you?” Pierre challenges, the hint of insinuation stretching between us all.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” I answer without hesitation. “He’s helped me with my gifts during our journey. I need him.”

It’s the closest I’ll ever get to publicly verbalizing how much Beau means to me and the closest I’ll get to conveying how much faith, trust, and love I have in him.

Beau squeezes my shoulder twice. “Until you’re ready to shift back or when it’s morning, whichever comes first, I won’t let you be out there alone.”

I hate the risk he’s taking while also wishing I could kiss him for not wanting me out there by myself.

Taking a small chance, I rest my hand atop his. “Thank you.”

Marcel rises. “Do you need backup?”

“No. It’s already a risk for Beau, and I’m already struggling with that weighing on my conscience. Please stay with Jules and Christine tonight.”

The three exchange glances before Marcel agrees.

“We’ll put extra men on guard tonight and patrol the woods with you,” Jean offers. “I’ll put in a word too that they are not to attack any bears in the vicinity.”

“That’ll be good, and it’ll have to be enough.” I dip my head in thanks, the thrum of magic pulsing and stretching my muscles the longer I stand here. “Beau, we need to go.”

I stride toward the exit, stopping at the packs and pulling out a few daggers, strapping them to my person.

Beau comes up behind me, grabbing weapons along with his bow and quiver. “I’ll follow you wherever you go. Always,” he whispers.

My cheeks heat as we wave our goodbyes and rush down the corridor, our fingers intertwining when we are alone as we hurry for Haliver Woods.