Lycannar


    <b>23 </b>


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    When the massive gate of Ash Pack swung open, all and sundry stood in attention to witness the impossible be possible.


    She held her brother as she dismounted from the horse, handing him over as Jurrek rushed forward, stunned but quick to take him.


    The rain fell aggressively, thunder mming above, and I lingered back a bit, trying to calm the storm, my own beasts raging, while I watched Varyn Ashmere carried away, everyone following in awe again and again.


    But she didn’t move. My sister. Mearez. Her eyes fixed on me beyond the gate, waiting, her heart in her throat.


    When I finally dismounted, she rushed forward, checking me, her hands running over my body for any wound. Then she froze when she saw the runes glowing on my chest.


    Hurriedly, she reached under her dress and pulled out a potion.


    “Drink it at once. Hurry,” shemanded, breathless, and I obeyed, gulping it down before turning away to groan. It made me hazy, forcing me to lean on my horse, head bowed to breathe.


    When battling hundreds of men, there is only one way to win. Awaken the demon in me and let him revel in bloodshed. That was the only way I cut through, got to Varyn Ashmere, and stood before the cage that bound him.


    And there, I had thought of ending his life, keeping the truth buried forever. But I couldn’t. Not when I felt the surge of power and connection to her, fighting Stone’s men.


    I blinked now, the glow of the runes dimming until they finally went out. The rain cooled me, and then I felt her tender touch. My gaze settled on her, my eldest sister, as she rushed into my arms, kissing my lips.


    “You’re safe now. You’re okay. You won’t be a threat anymore. Alright?” she said, anchoring me back to myself. I nodded, grounding again in my own skin.


    When I blinked and looked around, all those I had seen as enemies, those I longed to ughter, were revealed as the people of Ash Pack.


    Mearez’s potion had brought me back.


    <b>1/3 </b>


    <b>15:46 </b><b>Mon</b><b>, </b><b>Sep </b><b>15 </b>


    I looked at her once more then the surges of sound came from the hall.


    “Princess Mearez,” the call rang, jerking us both back to reality.


    Varyn Ashmere.


    23


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    We hurried inside, my sister following the maid who opened the bedchamber. There we found Zephyrine standing at the door, her eyes fixed on her brother lying weakly in bed.


    Jurrek was beside him, but when Mearez approached, trauma seized Varyn and he began thrashing violently.


    He would not stay still. And I felt it. Zephyrine’s sadness, her immense agony. She stepped back, almost frightened, until her back hit my chest and she turned at once to hug me.


    I pulled her into my embrace, patting her back as Varyn screamed incoherently. Jurrek pinned him while Mearez rushed to insert a needle, her healer’s hands steady. In the chaos, Varyn’s iling arm shed her.


    I froze cold, ready to intervene in concern but she did not give up.


    The healer she was, destined to bring health to the sick and weary, Mearez pressed on. She injected the needles, calling to Blue rather than trusting the Ash wolves. Gradually, Varyn’s voice died down. Only then could Zephyrine turn, staring at him with trembling eyes, while I kept my hand steady at her back, letting her know she would never carry any burden alone.


    Mearez pulled thest needle, then drew the first back out, letting dark blood seep from him. My eyes fixed on Varyn as hey heaving.


    Now I recognized him.


    Staring at him, it all returned. Yes, my siblings were right. He had been on the battlefield. I had killed his father before his eyes. I had seen him mount his horse, fleeing Abyss camp at dawn. But one thing I also remembered is that I spared him from ughter by his own kind.


    I sighed shakily and was pulled back <i>to </i>reality when Zephyrine slipped from my hold, sniffing, retreating as though she could not bear the sight of her brother’s state. She walked toward her bedchamber, and I understoodpletely.


    I lingered at Varyn’s doorway, watching Mearez finish. Only when Varyn drifted into sleep did she pull back, wiping sweat from her forehead.


    “He will wake very soon,” she told Jurrek. “In a few minutes. He will need to clean up, and I will check on him again.”


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    Jurrek stared at her, then lowered his gaze to her arm where Varyn had shed. It had not healed. His eyes snapped back to hers and she swallowed.


    “I don’t heal fast from any wound. But I will be fine. That’s the burden of a true healer.”


    Jurrek’s face went pale. In the next breath, he tore part of his cloth and wrapped it tenderly around her arm. Mearez’s eyes never left his.


    The, I saw it between them. Love.


    I lowered my gaze, heading toward Zephyrine’s chamber. We had gone to our mission with no solid n, yet we conquered. And my sister, whether I liked it or not, had found her love.


    The thought of it eased a burden in me. After being raped countless times, raised by an abusive father, forced to find cures and potions to restrain her unstable hybrid brother, the healer of both family and kingdom, she finally found love.


    I pushed open Zephyrine’s door. She stood by the window, tears streaming down her cheeks, and my heart ached. Slowly she turned to me and just like the love I had seen in my sister’s eyes for Jurrek, Zephyrine’s gaze held the same.


    Only hers came with the fierceness of a warrior, the kind who would break hell itself just to have me.