In the Wake of the Wicked (Veridian Empire #1)

48. Leo

48

Leo

I leaned against a tree trunk and crossed one ankle over the other, my tail twitching anxiously against the forest floor. Staring up at the third story window of the palace, I chided myself for the fifth time. I was being ridiculous waiting out here so late at night. Chaz had called me a stalker.

But when Horace sent word that Rose had left to meet with Gayl again, I couldn’t wait idly in the cottage.

The other night when she’d woken from her nightmare in my bed, I’d wanted to do everything in my power to take it all away. It brought me back to those days growing up, how my sister would walk home with bruises on her body before her Shifter blood could heal her quickly. How I’d catch my mother crying in the closet or watch my father’s paranoia consume him from the inside. So much pain, and all I’d desired was to remove it.

Rose said she felt as if something was wrong with her. That nobody wanted to get close. Ever since then, I’d imagined her alone up there in her empty room, facing the aftermath of the second trial and all that had happened to her thus far with nobody by her side.

She didn’t have to be alone, though. Not anymore.

A light flickered inside the room, illuminating the curtains in a pale glow. Pushing off from the tree, I made my way through the shadows of the palace grounds, pausing several stories beneath her window. I summoned my Shifter half, and my senses were immediately overwhelmed by the increased scents and sounds as I adjusted to the environment. I could smell her, even down here. The way the lavender and sage wrapped around me and beckoned me to her should have frightened me. It should have made me turn away and retreat to my cottage, never to look back again.

This life I lived…it wasn’t conducive to whatever might be happening between us. Constant secrecy and violence, looking over our shoulders at every turn, Sentinel meetings and patrols and missions and scheming. I didn’t need something else to focus on, not when change was coming. Not when danger lurked around the corner. If things went poorly, we could be on the verge of a civil war.

But none of that seemed to matter when it came to her.

Crouching low, strength reverberated in my bones as I lunged to the first ledge, then the second, then the third. Before I muted my Shifter instincts, I caught a glimpse of her through the thin fabric of the curtains, my sharpened eyesight making me acutely aware of every inch of her. She sat on her bed, legs crossed, her thick, dark hair cascading down one shoulder as she bent over a book. Her hand came up to brush it behind her ear, and I could see those beautiful high cheekbones, long lashes that brushed the tops of them when she blinked, bright eyes intently focused as they flitted across the pages.

Chaz was right. I was a stalker.

I tapped on her window and reined in my Shifter half. Her neck turned toward me, a myriad of reactions racing across her face. She thought she hid her emotions well beneath those layers of hers, but I could read them. Her brow pinched in confusion, then widened when she saw my silhouette, her lips curving upward. But her grin fell as she scrambled to close the mysterious book and tuck it away.

My apprehension grew. Was she still hiding things from me ?

She walked to the window and pulled it open, leaning against the frame and crossing her arms. A coy smile played on her lips. “And what might you be doing here at this hour?”

“Horace told me about your meeting with Gayl. I wanted to see how you were doing,” I answered honestly.

“I’m fine,” she said, shrugging one shoulder.

I narrowed my eyes. Stubborn girl .

With a sigh, she dropped her arms and opened the window wider, letting me step over the ledge and into her room.

“Maybe not completely fine. These last few days have been…a lot to wrap my head around.”

“I heard about the challenger who died in the trial,” I said. “I’m sorry that happened.”

“I didn’t really know her. I feel bad for her family, though. They held a memorial for her today, but it was just for show.” She shook her head. “The rankings came right after. Reporters were there to record the entire thing. It was disgusting.”

“That sounds like Gayl. Exploiting the suffering of others for the sake of the tournament. I know Lark has had her hands full since the trial ended—we’ve barely heard a word from her.”

Rose gave me a sheepish look. “I might have yelled at her and Horace earlier,” she said, rubbing a hand at the back of her neck. “I just got so angry after the second trial. They knew what I was walking into, and after these last couple weeks, I thought we were…I guess friends is too strong of a word, but still.”

She was hurt. Understandably so. And Rose’s first and foremost reaction to anything that hurt was anger—something I knew all too well, myself.

“I know this is difficult,” I began, taking a step toward her. She averted her gaze and stared at the floor. “The lines between ally and friend are always blurred for people like us. I even struggle with Rissa and knowing when to separate the mission from the fact that she’s also my sister.”

She eyed me. “People like us?”

“You know, charming. Outgoing. People pleasers. ”

She snorted. “Yes, that sounds just like us.”

Sliding a finger under her chin, I let my teasing grin fall and gently angled her to face me again. “But I promise, you can always talk to me if you need someone. I know how hard it is to make friends when you’re constantly on guard, when there’s always an agenda.”

“Always waiting for the other shoe to fall,” she added, eyes wavering to my lips. “Worried people only want you for what you can give them. Or that anything good will eventually come to an end.”

“Something like that,” I murmured. I was unable to look away, unable to pull myself out of this hold she had on me. My pulse raced when she bit her lip, dragging her eyes back to mine.

“I’m glad you came,” she admitted. “Maybe I did need someone to talk to.”

“Did anything else happen?” I asked.

Swallowing and giving a small nod, she backed away to sit on the edge of her bed. “When I met with my—with Gayl, I might have yelled at him, too.”

I ran a hand over the scruff of my chin, letting out an exasperated laugh. “Fates, little wolf, are you trying to get yourself thrown in the dungeon?”

“He deserved it,” she retorted, that defiant spark back in her gaze. “It went well, all things considered. I mean, I’m still alive.”

“Setting the bar high, I see.”

She snorted. “We talked about the trial. And…my father.” Her voice became hesitant as she looked down and played with the edge of the bedsheet. “It sounds like they were close. It was strange to hear him tell stories about the two of them. But…kind of nice. My father loved experimenting with magic, like me.” She shot a quick glance at the bundle hidden beneath a blanket.

“I saw you reading whatever that is through the curtain,” I confessed, motioning to the concealed book. She straightened, and I hastily added, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to pry. I caught a glimpse right before I knocked. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.”

I craved her trust, but it wasn’t something I could force her to give me. So when I saw her shoulders loosen and that guarded expression fall, it was like a brick had been lifted from my chest.

She nodded. “It’s my father’s Grimoire from when he and Th—Gayl were young. He gave it to me tonight.” Her hands traveled beneath the blanket and pulled out the thick leather tome. As her fingers traced the outline of the moon on the cover, I noticed a small bandage around her thumb.

“What happened there?” I asked, pointing to her hand.

She shifted her arm so her hand was hidden beneath the sheets. “Nothing. Just a cut.”

I stifled a frustrated growl. It felt like I had taken two steps forward and one step back with her. Something had changed between us the other night, and I believed she was finally opening up to me. Finally trusting me. If she would simply let me in, she would see that she didn’t have to bear all of this alone. She didn’t have to hide anytime she felt threatened or someone tried to get close.

I hated that this was the way she’d come to see life. It must be exhausting, holding everyone at arm’s length. I was thankful to have had my sister through our darkest days, but Rose…had she ever had anyone truly at her side? An equal, a partner, a confidant.

Even if I hadn’t completely broken through her walls, maybe I’d removed a piece of them. If I had to tear them down brick by brick, I would. Everyone deserved to have someone see them, to fight for them the way Lark had for my sister and me. Rose should know she was worth it.

“I experimented with magic when I was young, too,” I offered, breaking the silence. “I still do, but am a bit more careful than I used to be.”

She chuckled softly. “I can’t imagine you being anything but meticulously careful,” she said with a taunting edge .

“Are you calling me boring , Miss Wolff?” I stalked to the bed, hiding my smirk behind a pretend scowl.

“Oh, I would never. You just seem like someone who doesn’t stray far from convention. A proper Alchemist,” she said, putting air quotes around the term.

“For Fates sake, I have a tail , Rose,” I said with a laugh. “What about that screams ‘proper’ to you?”

Looking down to the edge of my cloak, she suddenly bore a bashful expression. My smirk widened. “Whatever you want to say, say it. Trust me, I’ve heard it all.”

A blush crept up her cheeks. “Can—can I touch it?”

A rare grin split my face. She was adorable. Slipping it from beneath my cloak, I unfurled my tail on her bed, the blanket soft and supple beneath its weight.

She reached out a hand and felt along its length. I shivered involuntarily, unused to the feel of someone else’s skin against it. Flinching, she snatched her fingers back, glancing at me warily.

“It’s fine, it’s just…sensitive,” I said.

A wicked gleam entered her eyes. “What else can you do with it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you obviously like to choke people,” she said, and I rolled my eyes. I would never live that down. “What else do you use it for?”

Nobody had ever asked me that. “I suppose it’s like a third hand. It has more reach, which is convenient.” I demonstrated by uncurling it and letting it slink along the bed.

“Very,” she hummed as I drew closer to where she sat.

“Makes it easy to restrain people.”

She cocked her head, raising an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“When I’m on patrol, of course,” I said, smothering a laugh. “There have been many times when having the ability to wrap this”—I flicked the end of my tail against her neck—“around someone’s arm or leg has saved my life in a fight.”

“I never thought about that,” she mused. “You haven’t told me how it works.” She brandished her free arm at my body. “You said you’re half Shifter, but can’t fully shift.”

My chest tightened. It wasn’t a question. The last time she’d asked, I’d given her a cryptic response. She was leaving me a way out if I didn’t want to answer her.

I’d never told anyone the full story, not even Rissa. My twin knew my unconventional anatomy had left scars on me, both figuratively and literally. She knew I’d suffered and had been too ashamed to ever speak of it. It was the moment in my life I regretted more than any other. But she didn’t know why .

Indecision warred within me. I wanted to leave it buried, to brush off Rose’s interest and placate her with some muddled, humorous version of the story. But how could I expect her to want to lean on me, to confide in me, if I couldn’t do the same?

This was the first time I’d felt even remotely safe sharing the truth with someone. The fear of judgment or condemnation didn’t exist with her. I knew she would accept me no matter what skeletons lay in my closet, and that in and of itself was a form of freedom.

She must have been able to read me as easily as I could her, for she shifted to the other side of the bed and laid down, patting the now empty spot. “Come here,” she said softly.

Shrugging off my cloak and draping it over the back of the chair, I lowered myself onto the warm sheets.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” she said.

“I know.” I faced the ceiling and rested my hands on my chest, taking a deep breath. “I’ve told you some of how my sister and I were treated as children. We were pariahs, living in constant anxiety because of who our father was and what had happened the night we were born. Rissa inherited our mother’s shifting abilities and struggled to control her magic at such a young age.” I tapped my thumb against my wrist, memories coming back to light. “With shifting comes increased senses, both physical and emotional. She was easily angered and would break down into tantrums at a moment’s notice, then dissolve into tears the next. She couldn’t stop herself from partially shifting when that happened…sometimes it would be her tail, others her ears, occasionally a paw.

“Being in public is hard for an early Shifter. Crowds overwhelmed her, and when they saw who she was and how uncontrollable her magic was, they assumed the worst. Assumed the cursed twins were only going to bring destruction to the capital. They were scared of her, thinking she’d erupt and hurt someone. We tried to make sure she was never alone when she went out, but some days…” I trailed off, remembering how difficult it had been to watch our parents work themselves into the ground and still barely have enough food on the table. How my sister and I often scavenged the surrounding village, looking for extras to bring home or stealing the occasional spare coin. My father flew into a rage if my sister, mother, or I left the house unprotected, but we couldn’t sit by and do nothing.

“One winter when we were twelve, she came home crying. I begged her to tell me what was wrong, but she was so shaken she couldn’t speak. She took her coat off…and that’s when I saw the bruises.” Rose sucked in a breath. “All across her arms and neck, like she’d been hit repeatedly and—and choked. They had started to heal already, but I could tell they were fresh.”

I gritted my teeth, anger clawing at me. I hadn’t been there to protect her. That image had been branded on my mind for fifteen years. Sometimes, when I closed my eyes, I saw the blue and purple marks on the back of my lids. Her swollen red eyes, her disheveled blonde hair.

“I snapped. I didn’t know what to do or how to help her. All I wanted was for her not to be alone. She was my twin—we’d gone through everything together, but I was an Alchemist. I’d never shown signs of having Shifter blood. This was a path I couldn’t follow her down, and it killed me.”

Swallowing hard, I braced myself for what came next. The same hopelessness that had gripped me back then roared to life. “I took my father’s Grimoire and searched for something— anything —that could help. I didn’t even know what I was looking for when I found a transformation spell, one that could turn simple objects into another. Water to wine and wood to steel, or more complex matter, depending on the power behind the spell. I thought…if I could make myself like her, a Shifter, then she wouldn’t be alone.”

Rose’s breath hitched. She placed a hand on my forearm and squeezed. “Leo, you didn’t…”

“I didn’t know what else to do ,” I repeated hoarsely, turning to face her. It was easier like this, when it was only the two of us. I didn’t have to pretend. “I got the ingredients and waited until the next full moon, when our magic is strongest. There was no part of me that thought this would work. I was young and desperate and careless. But I’d heard rumors. Rumors about ways to make spells even more powerful.”

“Blood magic,” she whispered. When I didn’t respond, she moved her hand to cover mine, ceasing my anxious tapping. She threaded her fingers through my own and slid closer to me. As I spoke, I rubbed my thumb against hers.

“The spell called for pieces of what you wanted to transform and what you wanted it to become. So I used my own blood and some animal fur I’d found in the forest. It was…the most excruciating thing I’ve ever felt.” I paused, words trapped in my throat, still able to feel the phantom ache burning in my spine, my bones, my head. Every cell in my body had been set ablaze, ripping my organs to shreds. Even the memory of it had me twisting my free hand in the sheets as my muscles locked.

Her warm hand cupped my face, those sharp, beautiful eyes grounding me back in the moment.

“The spell worked,” she said quietly, her tone laced with awe. “You made yourself a Shifter.”

“Not fully. The tail is permanent—I can’t shift that at will. I’ve always thought of it as a consequence for trying to defy the laws of magic. Over time, I learned how to hone my other animalistic senses, how to turn them off and on. I suppose it hasn’t been the worst ability to have.”

She let out a disbelieving laugh. “I can’t believe you actually did it. That it’s even possible. For a spell to be able to do something like that…it’s extraordinary .”

I pulled myself into a sitting position to face her. “It’s dangerous , Rose. We shouldn’t have power like that. It’s not natural, and something that strong…it always has consequences. A price to be paid. I thought mine was merely pain or this ridiculous tail, but it—it was more than that.”

Her brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

I threw my legs over the side of the bed and stood, pacing back and forth along the length of the room. “We’ve always known this. The basic principles of Alchemy are that any curse, any magic too powerful, has a price. I should have known. I should have seen it coming, that my trying to alter the very nature of who I was would take something in return.” I was rambling, but couldn’t seem to stop. The moment I said the words aloud, they became true. I needed Rose to understand. And I couldn’t bear to have her look at me when?—

“Leo.” She stepped in front of me, one hand coming to my shoulder to cease my striding and the other landing on the side of my neck. Her gaze was steady. Controlled. Comforting. “What happened?”

I was sure she could feel my pulse fluttering frantically beneath her touch as the confession rolled up my chest and onto my lips.

“I killed him.”

Rose blinked, her lips parting. “Who?”

“My father.” My fist clenched at my side. “I killed my father.”