Chapter 30: You Let Her Die!

Maeve

"Get away from me!"

I was running, frantic, tripping and stumbling through the dense greenbelt that lay between the castle ground and the village below. There was noise all around me; screaming, shouting, the eerie high-pitched howl of wolves.

I could hear him behind me, his breath catching in his throat as he cursed aloud, begging me to stop.

"You're running right into it, Maeve. You need to stop for a minute. We need to come up with a plan to get to the port-"

"I'm not going anywhere with you!" My face was tight from my dried tears as I spoke.

"Look around!" he bellowed as he clutched me by the shoulder, pulling me to a stop. I could tell by the tone of his voice that he was in incredible pain. One arm was dangling at his side, bent and bleeding profusely from a terrible, protruding fracture in his forearm. I should help him, heal him.

No. I wouldn’t. He was as good as dead to me.

But he was right; fire was blazing in the village. We could see the amber light through the trees and the smoke beginning to drift into the canopy of leaves over our heads.

I turned to him as his hand left my shoulder. He cradled his arm again, his chest heaving with effort.

"Who the f*ck are you?" I said, unable to hide the heartbreak in my voice.

He shook his head, sweat dripping off his jaw as he bent forward, leaning into a tree for support. "I'm really hurt, Maeve.

I can't shift like this. I thought we had more time."

"More time for what, Troy? If that’s even your real name-"

"It is."

"What is happening right now? What happened to Gemma?" My voice cracked as I said her name. I hadn't processed it yet. Everything that had happened within the last half hour was a total blur, only little fragments of memory floating around in my mind. But Gemma's screams were clear. They were still ringing in my ears.

"Alpha Damian of Poldesse is invading. He's taking over Drogomor."

"Why? Is that why you're here?”

"No. At least, I didn't know this was his plan. I thought-" he swayed, pitching forward. I felt my body moving to help him without my permission, but I righted myself, my fingers curling into fists. "Romero he-Damian used me. I was a decoy to keep you and Ernest distracted while he made his move."

"What does this have to do with me? I'm not the Luna yet-"

He looked up at me, his eyes shining with unimaginable pain, "Damian wants you for something I don’t understand. Romero was in on it, he tried to explain it to me but I thought he was just a mad old fool, I-"

scream ripped through the air around us

don't have time for this. I’ll explain later... I can't think straight. I need

started to walk forward again, grinding my teeth as my skin prickled with mingled guilt and fury. I didn't need him. I could figure

my ship. You’re not safe in Valoria.

die," I said, turning around to face him once more. "She was right there. She was just behind the door, and you didn't help. You didn't

have killed her regardless. They would have killed me, too. They would have taken you to Damian, and I am certain your fate would have been worse. I

a sob, blinking

to go, Maeve. We

me to your ship?

to trust

"I don’t-”

trust that I will keep you safe,

what about Ernest? He's my family. He's out

"Ernest wants to

"What does he—"

he said. "I have no way of

"Neither would you!"

do know. I know what

felt ill as a sudden rush of jealousy rippled through my system. I swallowed it down, praying it didn't show on

struggling to push himself

lot of time

leaving his face and settling on the blood-soaked sleeve of his

I bit

then I took his face

would ever be the same after this. Every feeling, every touch had been a lie. The man I met in the market was gone. The man who teased me, who tossed me in the grass and ran his fingers down the rise of

heal. The minuscule amount of blood I had given him

continue to swell. He wouldn’t be able to shift and function with only two of

his face tilted up to the sky as he breathed in, closing

I whispered, my heart shattering

***

arm wrapped around my shoulder

being licked by flames, and their thatch roofs blackened and fell in,

down the center of the road, unintelligible

the covered porch cracking

would inherit ruin, not a pack. Not

from the smoke-filled street ahead of us. A figure limped out of the smoke, her long

almost dropped Troy in surprise. He was barely conscious at this point, his head bobbing against

smoke, flames totally engulfing it. Violent thunder boomed over our heads,

river, now," Troy said hoarsely, shaking his

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