Chapter 101 - The truth will hurt

I stare at the man before me, my fingers tightening over the crown until the tips of my finger turn white. My knees buckle as a sudden weight as strong as an avalanche pounds against my shoulders. 

I can't tell the reality of it, but in this one moment, it doesn't seem to matter. In my delirium, I try to form his name with my lips.

The man yells something and starts running towards me. I feel my body slip as rocky bottoms shift into an eternal void. The weight drags me into the abyss, burying my vision into the darkness. 

There is no time to think or even breathe, yet my descent seems to occur in slow motion, my arms flailing without command or control. 

And all the while I am watching through the lens of a camera, powerless as a glass wall separates me from my body and reality.

Until arms encircle my shoulders, bringing me upwards into an unfathomable warmth. The familiar scent disarms me, and my eyes blink as I start to realize what is happening. He came back. He found me.

I had almost forgotten his face and touch in the face of such alarming discoveries. My heart aches as I am now overwhelmed with this comfort and reason brought upon by his presence. 

Robbed of my willpower, I surrender myself to his embrace while turning my body into his chest. For a few moments I listen to his beating heart, the deep breaths as his shoulders shake. I almost allow myself to smile as his breathing steadies. This is why. 

"Hey," he whispers in my ear, tightening his arms around me. 

"You can't leave me that easily." 

I smile weakly, strangely not hating myself for agreeing with him. The warmth from his body seems to permeate into my heart, and my fingers slowly relax over the gilded crown. 

After a few seconds I let him slowly release me, looking around the room. It still has retained its spherical shape and steep cliffs, but the scenes that flashed across the rounded walls has vanished. 

The room appears empty in every sense of the word, and for a few seconds I wonder if any of the past events actually happened. None of it truly seems real.

Kurtis and Danae inch towards me, while James and Jim stay back to glare at George. 

"What were you two doing here? Where have you been?" Jim loudly asks. He tries to look strong, but we can all see his knees shaking. 

I glance at George, alarmed to see that his eyes had returned to its normal color. He is shaking his head nervously, muttering to himself. 

As the others gather around me, I crumble under the weight of their stares and hug the crown to my chest. 

I… can't tell them. Even if I know they can help, even if it will make me feel a thousand times better, my lips just won't form the words. Or any words, for that matter.

"Why didn't you help Elena yourself?" Blake furiously snaps at George. He turns away from me and starts marching towards George with a dark glare. George just stands there, totally frozen, a lone figure against the backdrop of the dark, desolate walls. 

"It's okay," I caution him, reaching for his wrist. "It's not his fault."

"How is it not his fault?" Blake asks, still turned away from me. His wrist twists out of my grasp, fingers slipping around my own. 

"He's been through a lot," I say softly, questioning myself as I defend him. Should I just let the others get mad at him? Something prevents me from telling the truth.

The truth will hurt.

We make eye contact again, and he simply stares at me, green eyes devoid of any emotion or truth. The fire within me begs for the unveiling of the facade, the fabric holding us together in the patterns of fate. 

But then the fire fades as Blake's warmth snakes through my arm and the comfort reaches me again.

"I suppose you have," Jim speaks up, a smile finally crossing his features. "I'm glad that you are safe and with us again. You need to tell us all you've learned about what we are dealing with."

"What are we dealing with?" George repeats, his eyes darting around the room and his mouth twitching. He starts moving towards the door as Danae and James follow him. Their eyes seem more guarded, as if they are expecting something.

"You know, with the crazy Shifters and all that," Jim replies casually, walking languidly to the door. "And we would also like to know what this room is, and why you two are here."

"It's the Shifter's dungeon," George replied quickly, "it's where they have been keeping me." He throws another glance my way as if daring me to deny it. 

Blake leads me to the others, his hand tightening around mine. "Let's talk about it where we can have some light. We wouldn't want the Shifters to come back anyways."

I try to make contact with George again before we leave the room, but Blake is dragging me with such force that I don't even catch a glance. 

There are so many questions I have, but the biggest one that looms over me is… what now? The web of lies is being spun and one gust of wind could completely destroy it. 

We proceed through the elegant hallway and then through the double doors into the large room we first entered. It looks different now, with a little bit of light wafting through the windows and the small candles burning brightly. 

I can see the detailing of the design and furniture, all with an old-fashioned feel to it. Being able to see more of the castle, however, doesn't make me feel safe or even welcome.

And even as we exit the castle, I get the small, eerie feeling that we are being watched.

George is walking ahead, leading us around the perimeter of the castle. His steps seem shaky and unsure, and for moments I catch the edges of his skin blurring. 

Then I blink my eyes and it seems to be just a trick of the light. The others are walking ahead of us, seemingly unaffected by the strangeness in the air. But I know Blake can sense it, for his other hand has balled into a tight fist. 

"You feel that?" He leans down and whispers into my ear. Within that whisper I can feel the smoothness of honey dripping down his words into my willing ears. 

Even though I know its not intentional, I feel a buzz from him that is far different from what he's talking about. Instead of responding to him, I catch myself staring at his lips.

"Uh, uh, uh… yeah. I do." I turn my head away, a blush forming on my cheeks. Thankfully Blake doesn't pursue it, and as I recover his hand never leaves mine. 

I don't want to leave this.

George takes us to a small cave in a mountain beside the castle. I look around us, the trees blocking my view of the towering turrets. 

Once again, the area seems free of life and movement, and I hear nothing but the roar of the wind. But I can't shake that feeling, and I wonder if it comes from something greater than what we can understand.

The cave is small and intimate, the few of us standing shoulder-to-shoulder in order to fit inside. I lean back against the wall, confused as to what George means by bringing us in here.

"Okay, so what do you want to know?" Ray asks, sitting cross legged on the dirt floor. The others slowly slide to their knees. Blake's expression turns to stone, and he lets my hand slip from his.

"Tell us about your imprisonment," he says, leaning back against the wall with his eyes focused on Ray. 

George starts to talk, weaving a tale about how the Shifters dragged him to a dungeon and kept him there, feeding him sparingly. I tune out to his story, only paying attention to the werewolves. 

They look so strong, and determined, yet beaten and bruised as this world takes its toll. Not a smile is to be found as the pack listens to George, and I realize that true joy hasn't existed for a long while. There's relief that George is okay and back in the group but also distrust and suspicion. When did we fall apart at the seams, unravelling to the darkness of our fate?

Frightened by my own thoughts, my hand subconsciously wraps around Blake's arm in an attempt to forget. To have the bandage wrapped around our troubles and singularity of predestined purpose so that I don't have to look at it anymore.

Probably perplexed by my movement, Blake casts a quick glance at me. His hair is growing longer, cascading over his eyes and down the back of his neck. I feel the urge to brush it out of the way, but restrain myself as he turns again to focus on George again.

"Well, I'm glad we got you out of there," Blake says firmly as George finishes his story. "Now we have to come up with a new game plan." 

"What now…" I murmur quietly, looking at the ground hopelessly. There is no game plan. Or even a survival plan.

But they don't seem to know that, ignoring my whispered words to discuss their next strategy. But is it even a strategy? All of our efforts just seem to be poking at the air with a stick.

"We should head away from the Castle to see if there is a border," Danae suggests, peering out from the cave into the fine mist. "It's better than staying here where the Shifters can find us."

"But don't you think the Shifters are hiding something?" James asks fiercely. "We shouldn't run away like cowards."

"It's a big world out there," I finally speak, looking at each member of the group in the eye. "We don't want to waste our energy when we are so low on food."

Everyone looks at each other, morbid whispers hanging in the suffocating air. Blake looks at me again, this time searching my face for answers.