Page 1 of Wolfsbane (Deadly Duet #2)
ONE
MOREL
My eyes searched the stars, my heart aching at the loneliness of my soul. The one thing I never expected to experience was being alone forever. Outside of my kingdom, I was a villain, hated by all who knew of me. Who could possibly love a monster such as myself? My own family did not want me, so why would another?
The deeply rooted pain gripped my heart as my chest ached with the excruciating truth. If I was to be alone in this world, so be it. It was a fate I deserved, for I was nothing but a mistake. Aside from my poor motherm everyone knew it, including myself. I didn’t deserve a happily ever after. I didn’t deserve to know the warmth of a loving touch or the kindness of love. I knew only the cold darkness that pulled my soul deeper into the abyss, filled solely with anger that fueled the flames of my existence until there was nothing but my empty soul seated on the throne of my kingdom.
“Morel.” My head turned as I faced the man behind me. It was Orion.
Orion had become one of the few people I could trust. He was the brother I never had, the one I longed for Agaric to be. I wouldn’t have survived the harsh wild if not for him. Together, we spent years in these woods, growing not only a community of rejects but a kingdom of lost souls. I owed him my life.
Orion was gripping the pommel of his sword strapped around his waist, the fur of his coat brushing his cheeks as he stared at me with those dark, weary eyes. “Dr. Altair has arrived.”
“Finally,” I whispered under my breath with a smile. The night air fogged around my face as I followed Orion through the snow-covered forest. The black bark trees reached high into the sky, curving as they twisted together from either side and created a canopy of snow above our heads.
After some time, we finally reached the edge of the woods, stepping out into the open snow and towards the rubble of my castle. It wasn’t fully built, taking years to achieve its current glory, but it was still magnificent. And it was mine, not because of my blood or birth, but because I built it with my own hands alongside the growing number of people who had joined this newfound kingdom. The kingdom of Grisset was a home to any who needed it, for those who felt unwanted and unloved. Here, they were neither. Here, in Grisset, everyone had a place. Everyone belonged.
As we approached the enormous black gothic doors of handcrafted stained glass, I stopped and glanced up at the night sky once again. It was bursting with stars, the moon bright, illuminating the snow in a cool glow as snowflakes gently fell across my face and melted into my skin. One of the reasons I had chosen this very location was this: the way the sky remained dark and true to itself most days, leaving Grisset in a wintery blanket of shadows tucked away from the rest of the world, protected by a wall of mountains; a safe haven for me and my people.
“It’s a full moon tonight,” I stated with a faint smile as Orion stopped and glanced up at the night sky. “The death caps should be glowing bright under the moon goddess’ beam.” My eyes fell to him. “If only my mother could see them.” The mention of her made my black heart ache as I squeezed my fists at my side, my mood melting into something sour. “Dr. Altair better have what I asked for.” I turned my head away from the sky and brushed past Orion into the castle.
Orion scoffed, shaking his head as he followed me. “As do I.”
Dr. Altair was patiently waiting for me in my unfinished room, the only furnishings being my humble bed and the grand fireplace, burning at all times. The fireplace was built from the mountain itself, carved from dark stone and fragments of pure black onyx. The elaborate mantle was covered in tiny blue fluorescent mushrooms and moss, overgrowing from their tiny planters, beaming in the moonlight that peeked through the wall of stained glass windows gazing out to the mountains themselves. The many, tiny little mushrooms drenched the room in a layer of blue with their faint glow.
“My king.” Dr. Altair struggled to bow, his old age finally catching up to him.
“Please.” I gently stopped him. “Do not hurt yourself for such ridiculous customs.”
“Ridiculous?” He scoffed. “King Morel, I?—”
“Morel,” I corrected him with a soft smile. “After everything we’ve been through, you need not call me king.” Dr. Altair huffed as he reached his hand out and motioned for me to sit on my bed.
“Rubbish. You have always been my king and you always shall. From the moment I delivered you from your mother’s womb and watched you breathe your first breath, to the day my soul leaves this earth and joins the heavens above.” The old man followed me while I did as he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. I couldn’t help but laugh faintly at his stubbornness.
“Now,” he inhaled, “tell me what ails you, my king?”
“The same demons as before.” My head lowered, my long black hair falling in front of my eyes. “The tonic you gave me before did nothing to help my pain.” My eyes rose, meeting his as he listened with tender care—the care I had longed for from my own father yet never received.
“Hmm,” he grunted, pondering in deep thought. “Forgive me, my king, but perhaps your pain reaches deeper than muscle or bone. Maybe the reason none of my treatments are working is simply that what you feel is more of a physical manifestation of your emotions and past. Trauma can?—”
“I’m hurting from building this town from scratch. I spent every day lugging stone and wood, building homes, ensuring every person in Grisset has a place to call their own while defending our little slice of heaven.” I brushed strands of my hair behind my ears, my arm aching as I moved. “My body is too weak, something you know I’ve struggled with since birth. I must become stronger. How can I defeat Agaric if I’m weak?”
“My king is anything but weak.” Dr. Altair stated the words as if they were fact, but he was wrong. I was weak, weaker than Agaric. “My king…” He shuffled through his bag, small glass vials and bottles clinking together as he retrieved a clear crystal. “Perhaps this might help?” He stretched his arm out to me, offering the stone.
“A crystal?” I asked, accepting it with curiosity.
“Clear quartz. Your mother, the late Queen Mellea, was a firm believer in the healing properties of crystals. In fact, that very crystal was hers.” My eyes widened as I stared at the crystal in my palm.
“How did you—” I choked on my voice as the old man wrapped his fingers around my hand.
“The day your mother died, I knew your father would cleanse the palace of her belongings, wiping her existence from history. I did my best to salvage what I could of her, hiding some of her possessions before his men could get to them. Your mother was the embodiment of the moon goddess herself and had the most caring and loving soul. She did not deserve to be forgotten. And neither do you, my king. I see so much of her in you, hidden behind your sad eyes. I know you are hurting my king, but I beg you, do not close yourself off from the world. Instead, embrace it. I know you seek your revenge, and I understand that desire, but please, my king, for this old man’s sake, live . It is all your mother ever wanted.”
Dr. Altair’s words tugged at my broken heart.
“What other possessions did you salvage?” I asked, fighting back tears.
“Only a few. This crystal, a bundle of surviving death caps like yourself, and her ring.”
Her ring? The memory of her wearing the jewelry, laughing as she sang and danced with me as a child, played in my mind, making my heart skip a little. She would always let me play with the ring as I’d been amazed by the moonstone centered in silver, as if a piece of the moon itself rested on her finger.
My eyes raised to his, his hand slowly lifting as we stood. “Bring it to me.” I walked past the doctor, squeezing the crystal tightly in my hand. “I shall keep it safe, here, with me.”
“At once, my king.” The old man grabbed his bag and began to exit the room.
“Dr. Altair?” He stopped. “Thank you. I do not deserve such a loyal friend.”
“My king,” he cleared his throat. “You deserve the heavens. Your brother may sit on your father’s throne, but he is no king. A true king lives not for himself, but his people, sacrificing his own life to protect them. Your brother knows no such thing, unlike you. You are the most noble of men and truest of all kings. It is an honor to serve you. Your mother would be proud, Morel.”
I offered him a small smile as he bowed and left my room, closing the door behind him. My eyes fell back to the crystal in my hand. I only wish such a thing were true.