Chapter 12: Chapter Twelve
Chapter 12
Lia’s POV
The cabin was a wreck, splintered wood scattered across the floor, the air thick with the metallic tang of blood and the lingering stench of Frostclad wolves. My hands shook as I gripped the iron poker, its weight grounding me even as my heart pounded like a war drum. Edgar stood in front of me, his broad shoulders heaving, blood flowing from a cut on his side. His dark eyes were still locked on the shattered doorway where Connor and his knights had vanished, his body coiled like he expected them to come back any second. The bond between us hummed, sharp and insistent, pulling me toward him even as my mind screamed to keep my distance.
“You’re hurt,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. I dropped the poker, the clang echoing in the quiet, and stepped toward him, my eyes on the dark stain spreading across his shirt. “Let me see.”
“It’s nothing,” Edgar growled, but his voice was rough, pained, and he flinched when I reached for him. The bond flared, his pain echoing in my chest like it was my own. I ignored his protest, lifting the edge of his shirt to reveal a deep claw mark, red and angry against his skin. My stomach twisted, guilt gnawing at me. He’d taken that hit for me.
“Sit,” I said, pointing to the chair by the table. “Now.”
He raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement breaking through his scowl. “Ordering me around now, are you?”
“Someone has to,” I shot back, my sharp tongue finding its edge despite the fear still clawing at me. “You’re no good to me bleeding out.” I grabbed a cloth from the kitchen and a bowl of water, my hands moving on instinct, like Mama used to when I’d come home with scraped knees. The memory stung, but I pushed it down, focusing on Edgar.
He sat, grudgingly, his eyes never leaving me as I knelt beside him, dabbing at the wound. His skin was warm under my fingers, the bond sparking at the contact, making my pulse jump. I tried to ignore it, focusing on cleaning the blood, but his gaze was heavy, like he could see every thought racing through my head. “You didn’t run,” he said quietly, his voice softer now, almost a question.
I glanced up, meeting his eyes, dark and searching. “You told me to stay close,” I said, my voice dry. “Figured I’d listen for once.”
A faint smile tugged at his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “First time for everything.”
I snorted, pressing the cloth harder than necessary, making him wince. “Don’t get used to it.” But my bravado was thin. Connor’s words kept replaying in my head “she’s not yours yet, Nolan” and the way his green eyes had glance over me, like I was his own.
I finished cleaning the wound, my hands lingering longer than they needed to. The bond was messing with me, making it hard to think straight, hard to keep my walls up. “You said someone in your clan’s betraying us,” I said, keeping my voice low, like the walls might be listening. “Who do you think it is?”
Edgar’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening. “I don’t know yet. But I’ll find them. And when I do…” His voice trailed off, a growl rumbling in his chest, and I felt it through the bond, his rage a living thing. It should’ve scared me, but it didn’t. It made me want to fight, too, to tear apart whoever was putting us in danger.
“You think it’s Quinn?” I asked, the question slipping out before I could stop it. I regretted it instantly, the memory of her guilty eyes in the bookstore flashing in my mind. She’d been kind to me, but she’d kept secrets too, and Edgar’s warning, “don’t trust anyone” was still fresh.
His eyes flicked to mine, sharp and unreadable. “Quinn’s loyal to the clan. But she’s… complicated. She’s got her own reasons for everything she does. Don’t trust her until I’m sure.”
I nodded, my throat tight. Quinn was the only friend I had here, but the doubt was creeping in, poisoning every connection I’d tried to make. I stood, tossing the bloody cloth into the bowl, my hands shaking again. “This is insane,” I muttered, more to myself than him. “I came here to start over, not to be hunted by werewolves or tied to some ancient curse.”
Edgar stood, towering over me, his wound forgotten. “I know,” he said, his voice low, almost gentle. “But you’re here now, Lia. And you’re stronger than you think. I saw it tonight, the way you held your own. You’re not just human anymore.”
His words hit harder than they should’ve, stirring that wild thing inside me, the one that had clawed at my bones last night. My skin tingled, the mark on my shoulder pulsing, and for a moment, I felt it the wolf, restless, waiting. “What if I don’t want to be a wolf?” I whispered, my voice breaking. “What if I just want to be me?”
He stepped closer, his hand brushing my arm, the contact sending a jolt through me. “You’ll always be you,” he said, his voice rough with something I couldn’t name. “The wolf doesn’t take that away. It makes you more. But you have to embrace it, Lia. Fighting it will only make it harder.”
I pulled away, my heart racing, the bond screaming for me to stay close, to let him in. But I couldn’t, not yet. Not when I didn’t even know who I was anymore. “I need time,” I said, turning toward the window, staring into the dark forest. “To figure this out. To figure… us out.”
He didn’t argue, but I felt his frustration through the bond, a mirror to my own. “You don’t have much time,” he said quietly. “Connor’s not done. And whoever’s working with him they know where you are now.”
A chill ran through me, the memory of those golden eyes in the trees flashing in my mind. I turned back to him, my jaw set. “Then we find them first. I’m not running, Edgar. And I’m not hiding. So you’d better start teaching me how to fight, because I’m done being a target.”
“Tomorrow,” he said finally, his voice a promise. “We start training. But you stay with me, Lia. No more going off alone.”
I nodded, my resilience softening just enough to meet him halfway. “Fine. But don’t think this means I’m yours.”
A ghost of a smile crossed his face, and for a moment, the bond felt less like a chain and more like a lifeline. “We’ll see,” he said, his voice low, almost teasing.