Page 9

CHAPTER 9

"T he fire's dying," I observed, breaking the silence I'd fallen into. "I should get more wood."

"I'll come with you." Seven voices spoke as one in my mind, making me laugh despite myself.

"All of you?" I raised an eyebrow, looking around the cabin filled with creatures. "Quite the escort for a trip to the woodpile."

"We're not taking chances." Garrett's tone brooked no argument. "Not with you."

I hadn't expected to feel so exposed, stepping outside in just my nightdress. The forest around the cabin was dense, private, miles from the nearest town or road. But seven pairs of eyes tracked my every move, alert for danger in a way that made me acutely aware of my vulnerability.

Garrett led the way, his massive frame clearing a path through the underbrush with purposeful strides. Ronan flanked my right side, his presence sharp and tense, always watching. Kade moved silently along my left, more shadow than beast, his steps so quiet I could barely hear him. Cassian darted ahead, quick and light, scanning the path with a grin that didn’t quite mask his focus. Leif kept to higher ground, his gaze sweeping the surroundings, eyes narrowed with sharp intensity. Evander brought up the rear, calm and steady, his awareness like a second shield at my back. Only Nikolai remained at the cabin, his serpent body unsuited to the cold, but his attention lingered in my mind, coiled and constant through the bond.

"The woodpile's right there," I pointed out, barely twenty paces from the door. "I think I can manage."

"Humor us." Ronan's dry voice filled my mind. "After centuries of solitude, we're a bit overprotective of our mate."

Our mate. The possessive plural sent a shiver through me that had nothing to do with the cool autumn air.

I gathered the firewood quickly, aware of their vigilance. Their protectiveness was palpable through the bond, a steady pulse of watchfulness that wrapped around me like armor.

When I returned to the cabin with my arms full of logs, I noticed the sun beginning its descent toward the horizon. Soon it would be night. Soon they would change back.

Soon I would be in their arms again, trying once more to break a curse that had held them for centuries.

I stacked the wood near the hearth, added a few logs to the dying fire, and turned to find... an empty cabin.

"Hello?" I called out, both aloud and through the bond.

Their presence in my mind had dimmed, not gone but muted, as if they were deliberately pulling away.

I moved to the window. No sign of Garrett's massive bear form. The stag was gone from the tree line. The wolf had vanished. The hawk no longer circled overhead.

"Where did you go?" I pushed the question through the bond, feeling their reluctance to answer.

"It's almost sunset." Garrett's voice finally came, distant and strained. "The change is... not something you should witness."

"But I've already seen it. It wasn't exactly pleasant, but you don't have to hide yourself from me."

"We'll return when it's done." Evander's gentle explanation followed. "When we're men again."

I stood alone in the cabin, arms wrapped around myself. The fire crackled, throwing shadows across the empty room. Their absence felt wrong after a day of constant watchfulness.

"But I could comfort you," I offered to the empty air, knowing they could hear me through the bond.

"No." Seven voices responded as one, firm and unyielding.

I sank down by the fire, staring into the flames. Outside, the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in deepening shades of purple and blue. Somewhere in the forest, seven beasts were transforming back into the men who had claimed me so thoroughly last night.

Men who would return to me soon, their eyes hungry and their bodies human, at least for a few precious hours.

Men who would try again to break a curse that had bound them for centuries.

The bond pulsed quietly between us, a living thread that connected my heart to theirs even when they were physically absent. Through it, I felt flashes of their pain as bones shifted and fur receded. I felt their determination. Their hope. Their fear that even this, what we'd found together, might not be enough.

I stared into the fire, arms wrapped around my knees. The warmth of their touch still lingered on my skin... but none of them had returned yet. It was like they couldn't stand to be near me during the transformation back to human. I understood, in a way. They probably wanted me to remember them as either fully beast or fully man, not caught in the agonizing between.

"I can still feel you," I whispered to the empty room, knowing they could hear me through the bond. "All of you. Inside me, around me, part of me. The curse didn't break... but something changed."

Something had changed. I could feel them in my mind now, their thoughts and emotions tangled with my own. The bond remained, stronger than before, humming with potential.

Before it got too dark, I decided to retrieve more water from the well. Yeah, my beasts would probably hate that I'd gone alone, but it wasn't far from the cabin. No further than the woodpile, which could be seen from the porch of the cabin.

When I got to the well, I sat on the edge for a moment, listening to the nightlife of the forest. There was an essence of peace that came from sitting there in the chilly air. It was probably stupid to stay out here longer than necessary in just a nightdress, but the way the crisp air nipped at my skin refreshed me.

Time passed faster than I realized. My fingers felt like ice before I left my thoughts and retrieved the water. I headed back to the cabin to warm up and make tea.

The cabin was quiet when I pushed through the door, the main room empty. I moved to the hearth, needing warmth and to put water on to boil. That's when I felt him. A prickle along my spine, a coolness in the air that had nothing to do with the temperature.

Nikolai materialized from the shadows beside the fireplace, as if woven from darkness itself. Naked as always, his white-blond hair loose and wild around his shoulders. His eyes found mine, glowing softly like moonlit ice, pupils slitted in a way that wasn't quite human.

"You ache," he whispered, the words caressing my skin like a touch.

I blinked at him, startled by his sudden appearance, by the raw understanding in his gaze. "What?" Just when I thought I understood his cryptic nature, he started on something I couldn't quite figure out.

"You ache because they left you empty." He moved toward me with fluid grace, his bare feet silent on the wooden floor.

My breath caught as he drew closer. Unlike the others, he didn't seem afraid to approach me tonight. His eyes devoured me, taking in the nightdress and my bare legs. A flush spread across my cheeks, leaving me feeling suddenly hot.

"They think claiming you would fix the curse," he murmured, circling me slowly, like a predator. "But it was never about claiming. It was about offering."

I stepped back, unnerved by the intensity of his gaze, by the weight of meaning in his words. "What does that mean?"

His lips curved, slow and dangerous, revealing the edge of teeth that seemed too sharp. "You gave your body. Your pleasure. But you didn't take what was offered in return."

"They didn't offer anything," I said, confused. "I mean, I guess they offered the bond. I accepted that."

He made a soft sound, almost like laughter, but too sad. "They offered everything, little flame. Their pain. Their curse. Their centuries of suffering. Did you reach for it? Did you pull it into yourself?"

I didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know what terrified me more… his words or the soft longing in them. Last night had been about pleasure, about connection, about belonging. I had wanted to bond with them, believing that giving myself to them in body would be enough.

It should have fixed the curse. I hadn’t realized there was more… hadn’t thought about taking their pain, their burden, their suffering into myself as willingly as I had given them my body.

"The offering goes both ways," he continued, stopping just inches from me. I felt the chill radiating from his skin, so different from the burning heat of the others. "They must give, but you must also take. Willingly. Knowingly."

"Garrett didn't say anything," I whispered. "None of them did."

"They don't know." His fingers brushed my cheek, light as a snowflake, making me shiver. "They’ve forgotten the old ways. They think brute force and desire are enough."

"And you remember?"

"I remember everything." His eyes were ancient, endless, filled with secrets no one else had dared to carry. "I will follow you into the hollow places," he said. "Even if they hide in shame. Even if they run from what we are."

"I don’t know what we are," I admitted, my voice small against the breadth of the night around us.

"Soon, little flame," he whispered, his breath cool against my lips. "You will."

He didn’t move for a long moment, his pale eyes boring into mine, ancient and unknowable. I reached for him without thinking, fingers trembling, but he only shook his head once—slow, deliberate. "Not yet," he whispered, voice like mist curling around my ears. "You are not ready to take what must be given."

"I don't know how," I confessed, my throat tight. "Tell me what to do."

"You already know," he said, sadness and certainty woven together. "You are afraid to become what they need."

"I don't want to lose myself," I whispered. It was a raw truth, ugly and selfish.

"You won't," he promised. His cold fingers brushed my lips, featherlight. "You will become more."

Then he faded before I could reach him, dissolving into shadow like he had never been there at all. Only the lingering heat on my skin told me he was real. Only the thrum of the bond, steady and aching, reminded me that I was not truly alone.

The rest of the night passed in slow, aching silence. The men orbited me without speaking, moving around the cabin and the surrounding woods like ghosts. Kade sharpened his blades until the metal sang, the sound grating and mournful in the heavy air. Leif remained perched in his tree, refusing to climb down, arms tight against his chest like he could hold himself together through sheer will. Evander disappeared into the forest, returning hours later with herbs and roots, his face tight and closed off, offering no explanation. Ronan paced the perimeter of the clearing like a restless shadow, his gray eyes constantly scanning the trees, as if trying to find something he could fight, something he could blame. Cassian tried once, only once, to break the tension, tossing out a joke with a crooked grin. But it fell flat between us like a stone and he retreated without another word.

They avoided each other as much as they avoided me, as if something fragile had cracked between all of us. As if they blamed each other. As if they blamed themselves. Maybe they did. Maybe I did too.

But none of them came inside. None of them reached out to me mentally. None of them touched me.

"I feel you," I whispered into the bond, voice trembling even though I didn't speak aloud. "I know you're there."

A pulse of acknowledgment answered me… seven distinct threads of emotion tightening around my heart. Garrett’s grief. Kade’s silent rage. Leif’s restless yearning. Ronan’s despair. Cassian’s bitter regret. Evander’s steady sorrow. Nikolai’s cold, unyielding devotion.

They heard me. They felt me. But they could not come to me.

I stared into the fire, feeling the bond thrum against my ribs like a second heartbeat. The curse hadn't broken. And I didn't know if it ever would.

Seven threads, stretching taut from my soul to theirs, gossamer-thin but unbreakable. And hungry. So hungry.

Nikolai’s words echoed again, louder now in the emptiness. It was never about claiming. It was about offering.

I closed my eyes, feeling the threads pulse against my skin. They had given themselves to me… their bodies, their pleasure, their desperate hope. But I had not given everything in return. Not my heart. Not the part of me that could shoulder their centuries of agony, their brokenness, their grief, and still call it love.

Could I bear it? Could I open myself wide enough to take it all in… and not shatter?

I didn’t know.

I couldn't trust anyone… Not my father who kept bringing evil women in the house… and not the woman who finally poisoned him to steal my heart and the Winterborne bloodline.

But as I sat there, surrounded by the scent of them, my body still marked by their hands and mouths, I knew one thing with bone-deep certainty.

I would try.

For them.

For us.

For whatever we were becoming.