Page 30 of Rising Reign (The Wolves of Crescent Creek #3)

WREN

“It smells like something died,” Puck muttered as he held his nose and walked closer to one of the gym’s open windows.

He wasn’t wrong. Whatever Hera was mixing in her ceremonial bowl smelled seriously rotten. But I couldn’t keep myself from looking anyway.

Locke’s curiosity had gotten the best of him, too. Hera scowled at him as he bent over the bowl to study the concoction. “Can I get some room?”

He grimaced. “Sorry. I just—what’s in there?”

Hera’s gaze flicked to me. “It’s probably better if you don’t know.”

My hand went to my stomach as it did a series of flips. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the possibilities of what I was about to consume, what I was about to face, or both.

I felt heat at my back, and the scent of mint and pine swirled around me. “You don’t have to do this.” Grit coated Kingston’s words as he wrapped his arms around me from behind.

I leaned into his muscular chest. “Yes, I do.”

A low, rumbling growl left his throat, and I felt the vibration in my back. “Little Warrior,” he rasped.

“It’ll be okay.” I said the words, even if I didn’t fully believe them. It was a promise to myself as much as anything.

Hera stopped mixing and closed her eyes. Her hands hovered over the ceremonial pot as she spoke some ancient words I didn’t know. This wasn’t caster magic. It was something else. I held my breath, waiting for sparks or a bang, something. But nothing happened.

Hera opened her eyes and lifted the bowl. “It’s done.”

“That’s it?” Puck asked, voicing my thoughts.

Hera sent him a wan smile. “Magic isn’t always showy.”

“It’s more fun when it is,” Puck muttered.

Hera crossed to me and extended the small bowl. “You may want to hold your nose when you drink this. It’ll go down easier.”

I grimaced as I took in the greenish sludge. Before anyone could warn me off, I gulped it down and then almost threw up on the gym floor.

Bending over, I gagged but managed not to lose the contents of my stomach. Locke hurried over and helped me straighten. “Here, drink this. It’ll cleanse the taste.”

I chugged the pink drink he handed me. The taste of strawberries played over my tongue, washing away the worst of whatever I’d drunk before. I took a few steadying breaths. “Okay. I’m okay.”

Brix looked at me with worried eyes. “How do you feel? Any different?”

I took stock of my body. I felt nothing but a faint tingling in my muscles, but that could’ve simply been from trying to keep from upchucking. Next, I took in my shields. I felt it then, an increase in pressure building against them.

Fear .

Hope.

Worry.

Anxiety.

There were more, but those were the overwhelming ones. The ones that pushed against me, demanding that I take them on, take them in .

“I feel…more,” I whispered.

Hera smiled. “Good.”

Rhys clapped his hands together. “Now, we can begin. First, we need someone for Wren to work on.” He scanned the room, his gaze settling on Brix. “You. Your darkness will be a good challenge.”

Brix instantly started shaking his head and backed up. “I can’t. I can’t cause her any more pain.”

Rhys’s mouth hardened into a thin line. “We need someone who will challenge her.”

“Don’t make him do it,” I snapped at Rhys. I turned to Brix. “It’s okay. You don’t have to.” I wasn’t about to put him through more than he’d already gone through just because I needed a guinea pig.

“I’ll do it.” It was the voice I least expected. Deep, with an underlying hint of anger I hadn’t picked up on before. Ender stepped forward, moving closer to me, something he rarely did. “I’ve got plenty of darkness for the little kitten to practice on.”

I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly feeling like cotton balls had been stuffed inside. My wolf howled her acceptance of this partner because she wanted to be closer to him. She wanted to mark, bite. Claim .

Rhys’s lips twitched. “This is going to be so much fun.”

A medicine ball hurtled toward Rhys’s head. He turned, catching it at the last possible second, and scowled at Puck. “I’m trying to help.”

“You’re finding joy in Wren’s struggles,” he snarled. “You keep being an ass, and I’ll keep throwing things at you. Next time, it’ll be something sharper. ”

“Enough,” Ender clipped. “Tell us what we need to do.”

Rhys gave Puck one last glare before turning to me. “Wren, tell me how your gift usually works.”

I had the sudden urge to bolt from the room. I was so used to hiding my gift from the world that sharing it felt like standing stark-naked in front of all of them and pointing out all my weaknesses. I forced myself to steel my spine and straighten my shoulders. We all started somewhere.

“I can feel heightened emotions from a distance, but I feel them strongest when I have skin-to-skin contact. It’s easiest for me to heal that way, as well.”

“All right. We’ll start there,” Rhys instructed. “And build in distance with time.”

Ender’s gaze locked on me as he moved closer. In three long strides, he was directly in front of me. The scents of cinnamon and cloves wove around me, pulling me in. My wolf pressed against my skin, wanting out, wanting the mate who hadn’t claimed her yet.

That cotton-mouth feeling was back, and my hand trembled. Ender’s gaze dropped to the offending appendage, and I swore I saw a hint of sympathy in his eyes. He moved slowly, threading his fingers through mine and squeezing.

An ache took root in my chest at the kindness. Along with it came a deep longing. Despite all the hurt he’d caused me along the way, every part of me wanted the final connection with Ender. I took a deep breath and tried to focus on the task at hand.

“When you’re ready, Little Vixen, lower your shields,” Rhys said.

The entire room held their breath as I stared at Ender. I looked into those swirling amber eyes and lowered my metaphysical shield, inch by inch. Inky black smoke rolled out and hit me hard, nearly making my knees buckle.

Ender instantly shot forward to steady me. His hand released mine but slipped beneath my hair, keeping the skin-to-skin contact. “Too much,” he rasped. “A little at a time. ”

I breathed through the pain, the waves of agony that began as emotions and turned physical when they reached my body. I drew air in through my nose and let it out through my mouth, then closed my eyes and tried to unravel the knotted stew inside Ender.

One emotion flared strongest—one that had my eyes stinging and pressure building in my chest.

Self-hatred.

My eyes opened as I took in the man before me. He was so close I could almost taste a hint of cinnamon on my tongue. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

Ender stiffened as fur rippled over his arms, his wolf wanting to be free. “Do it,” he ground out.

I pulled on the thread, slowly taking it into me. But the pool of self-hatred was so deep it seemed never-ending. Sickness rolled through me, and sweat broke out on my brow as my legs began to shake more.

“That’s enough,” Kingston ordered.

“Not yet,” Rhys snapped.

Ender’s teeth elongated as he ran his nose along my neck. “Kitten,” he growled.

My wolf howled, called by his. I wanted to bite, claim Ender as mine.

A second later, Ender ripped himself away from me, and I found myself falling. Brix was there to catch me, cradling me in his arms as light danced across my vision.

“I’m sorry,” Ender croaked. “I can’t.”

A fresh wave of agony washed over me as Ender took off for the door. It felt as if a part of me were being ripped away.

Brix nuzzled my neck. “Breathe. Just focus on that. One breath at a time.”

I struggled to refortify my walls as sweat gathered along my spine. I couldn’t differentiate where the pain was coming from now. Was it my body or my soul? All I knew was that it hurt like hell.

“It’s the bond,” Hera said softly. “It wants completion. It’s going to hound you until it has what it needs. You need to do it. It’ll make you stronger.”

My head snapped up, my vision swimming with the move. “I’ll never bond for strength alone. I’d never steal that choice from Ender. He has to want it as much as I do.”

I just worried that day may never come.