Wolf Bound Page 6

  Adam watched them for a while and then pushed to his feet, feeling more himself again. Now he’d strengthened his bond with his body and his wolf, he had to try to reconnect again. That wasn’t going against his promise to Adeline. It was a different thing entirely. In fact, it should give him energy.

  He closed his eyes, found the silver-gold bond again, but this time, rather than thinking about strengthening it, he thought about blending with it, following it along its thread to his body and sinking in, enveloped by flesh and blood and sinew and bone. Whole.

  For a moment, he thought it was going to work. The bond was strong, throbbing with the power of his unconscious wolf and body and the strength of the pack. He let the sensation filter through him, wrapping it around himself, sinking down, down.

  He was thrown back, smacking against the far wall so hard that dust fell from the ceiling.

  What the fuck? He slammed his hand on the ground and pushed to his feet, anger a hot boil in his chest. This was bullshit! His body couldn’t deny him access. How could it push him away like that? Maybe he had to try harder. He rushed back to his body, reached into it where he could see the thread of the bond in his mind and grabbed it. It pulsed in his hand, glowing brighter for a moment. He smiled. Yes. He was going to be able to bring himself back to his body and his wolf.

  The link twisted, pulling tight, hurting, the silver-gold threaded with black. No, that wasn’t right. There was something wrong, something terribly wrong. It was burning—it shouldn’t be burning. He stood, momentarily stunned as it tightened, cutting into his ghostly skin. The link shouldn’t have tried to hurt him. It was supposed to welcome him. Holy crap. It felt like it was going to cut his hand in half. Wisps of something like silver-tinged smoke began to rise from the place where the bond was wrapped around his hand. But it wasn’t blood. It had the faintest tang of copper. Ghostly blood?

  No. Worse. Ghostly essence.

  Weakness wavered over him as the bond coiled tighter and more of the smoky substance rose from the point of contact and then was sucked into the thread of bond where it glowed for a moment and then disappeared. The bond throbbed, thickening, gleaming sickly.

  Then he realised what he should have realised before. He shouldn’t be able to touch the bond with any physical part of him. This wasn’t the bond hurting him. It was something else entirely. Something with a dark tinge to it. Something sick that wasn’t part of him at all, and it wasn’t coming from the heart of him, but from the wound in his body’s chest. He’d been so angry before at his failure, he hadn’t noticed that what he’d grabbed wasn’t quite like what he saw in his mind. Rather than succouring him as the bond was supposed to do, it was draining him.

  Fuck. He began to pull at it, trying to loosen it, but the more he fought, the more it tightened.

  His head began to spin as more essence leaked out of him. Was he actually, truly going to die? If this spirit self faded away, then his body would die. The one could not exist without the other—or so Eloise had said. He wasn’t sure what he was, but that at least was something he did know. He could feel it.

  This thing from the wound was going to kill him. He had to stop it, but how? He was getting weaker with every minute and he couldn’t get free.

  He couldn’t go out this way. This wasn’t how it was meant to go for him. With a whimper, rather than a bang. No. No.

  There was a roar in his mind, a howl that shook through him, that was a part of him but was outside him as well. His wolf. It had woken up.

  It surged up from its dormant state, lunging forth to protect, savage and strong. The rainbow of change glowed over his body. There was a shriek and the cutting burning sensation in his hand ceased. The thing from his wound had let go. He staggered back, head spinning, eyes watering.

  In front of him, his body began to change into the wolf. Then it snapped back to human. And back to wolf. Over and over. The change couldn’t form properly. The wound in his chest was stopping the natural process. It was as if the Warlock Lightning had damaged something at a cellular level. Bits of him began to change, moving from wolf to human and back again, over and over. It was like what happened when one of their kind was hit by a powerful surge of electricity—it made their system go haywire and they couldn’t control any part of the change. It was painful and horrifying—and could kill if not stopped.

  His body began to vibrate violently on the bed, his face—human then wolf—contorted in a rictus of pain.

  Fucking hell in a handbasket. This day was just going from bad to worse.

  The thing that had tricked him into thinking it was the thread of bond flipped around, retreating back into the wound, which was pulsing, seeping thick black gunk that ran over his chest and onto the bed. The linen began to smoke.

  The wolf was howling in a way that sounded like a scream as Adam’s body heaved and surged, slamming against the bed, knocking against the wall, slamming him up against the bed edges. The cannula in his arm was ripped out. Blood sprayed across the white sheets and up the wall.

  There was a shout behind him and someone ran through him—Bron and River. River was trying to hold him down, but needed more arms and legs, especially because the changes that were happening all over Adam’s body were so unpredictable and violent.

  The door smashed open and Jason was suddenly there.

  ‘What the fuck!’

  ‘Jason—hold his body still. River—take care of his legs. Try and hold him as still as possible. I need to give him this.’ Bron was holding a large needle in her hand.

  Jason leaned over him, trying to grab hold of limbs that were changing faster one heartbeat to the next. ‘I can’t grasp him. There’s nowhere that’s not flipping in and out of the change and I’m afraid I’ll hurt him.’

  ‘I don’t think he’s going to notice if you did.’

  ‘I wouldn’t bet on that,’ Adam said. ‘But let’s just say, I give you permission.’

  Of course, none of them heard him. Even if they could, they’d have difficulty hearing over the sound of his wolf’s howls. He winced. It was in so much pain. He wished he could do something, but it wasn’t taking any notice of him at all. Maybe he would take notice of the Alpha. ‘Try to get through to my wolf, Jason.’

  ‘Try to use the Alpha link, Jason.’

  ‘Bron—I love your beautiful mind,’ Adam said.

  Jason closed his eyes, face creased with concentration. Beads of sweat shone on his brow and ran down his temples. He shook his head. ‘He isn’t listening. Something has stressed him.’

  ‘Well, try again, because if he doesn’t stop this, he’ll die. Adam’s body can’t take much more.’

  Jason leaned over Adam’s body and grabbed his face to keep it still and leaned his forehead against his. ‘Wolf. Adam. Listen to me. Stop fighting. You’re hurting yourself.’ Nothing. The howling got worse. He held on tighter. ‘Please. We love you. Don’t leave us.’ The violent heaving of his body seemed to lessen a little.

  ‘You’re getting through,’ Adam said at the same time as Bron. ‘Keep going.’

  ‘I know this whole thing upsets you. I can feel your hurt, your anguish. I know you can’t feel the human side of yourself and it’s making you panic. But he’s still there somewhere. Just unconscious because of the wound. We’re trying to fix that, but we need your help.’

  ‘Keep going. He’s listening.’

  ‘You have to stop trying to take over the body. It’s not helping. It’s harming Adam.’

  The wolf stopped howling, and Adam could feel it settle, but for some reason his body kept changing. Holy fucking dog’s balls.

  ‘The wolf is calm,’ River said. ‘Why hasn’t he stopped changing?’

  ‘There’s magic fuelling the change,’ she said on a gasp. ‘I can feel it.’

  ‘Where’s it coming from?’

  She narrowed her eyes as she looked at his aura, and then they flared open. ‘The Warlock Lightning. The power of it is still there and it’s somehow funnelling magic int
o the change. But not like normal magic would because it’s dark and sick and twisted. I have to stop it. Think. Think.’ She knuckled her hands against her temple while Adam’s body continued to change over and over on the bed. ‘I know!’ she cried, head snapping up, and then she raced over to a cabinet on the other side of the room, tearing open the draws and doors, pulling out boxes and searching madly through them. There was a clang and smash of glass hitting the floor as she pushed things aside, not careful of what she was doing, as she mumbled, ‘Where is it? Where the hell is it?’ She glanced over at Cordy’s still form. ‘You told me you kept one here. It has to be here.’

  Adam wanted to help, but the more his body changed violently, the more the room span. His knees trembled and there was a squeezing in his chest, as if he couldn’t breathe. He sank to the floor, gasping, helpless.

  ‘Come on. Come on,’ Bron said, stepping through him. ‘The cuff has to be here. Cordy is always so organised and ready for everything. It’s here. I know it’s here.’

  ‘I saw that the other day.’ River raced over to a set of drawers and pulled out the top one, grabbing something out of it. ‘Bron, here!’

  Her eyes lit on what he had in his hand. ‘Thank the moon!’ she breathed, snatched it out of his hand, and snapped it onto Adam’s body’s wrist.

  His body flexed, the rainbow glow of change chasing over him and then his body fell back onto the bed. Completely human.

  ‘Thank you Bron,’ Adam said on a deep breath in. ‘I and my wolf thank you.’ His wolf! His head snapped up, gaze going to his body. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. He couldn’t feel his wolf now at all. Couldn’t sense his body. It was as if they’d been torn from him. He couldn’t even find the bond inside him. It was gone. Shit. Shit.

  ‘What did you do?’ Jason asked, panting.

  ‘The magic in the wound, the thing that’s stopping me from healing Adam, was doing something to the bond. His wolf was fighting against it, but it somehow managed to poison the change with its dark magic. I thought if I could cut off the source of that magic, the change might stop. The magical suppression cuff was the most effective way to do that.’

  ‘Will that help the wound heal now?’

  ‘No. It’s not destroying the dark magic, just holding it at bay. Besides, while that’s on there, I can’t heal him at all.’ She chewed at her lip. ‘I don’t even know how long the cuff will hold it at bay. The magic is so insidious. So powerful.’

  Her words were becoming lost in the panic howling inside him. He began to shake. He tried to take deep breaths, to calm himself, to pull on the reserve of strength that had always been inside him to overcome his fear. But it wasn’t there, because that strength had always been tied into the bond with his wolf, and it was gone. First Shelley and now his wolf. He was alone. Truly alone.

  Panic reared in his chest, an ugly, clawing beast. The wind howled and screamed around him. Louder than ever. Tearing at him. Calling to him.

  What the hell?

  It was calling to him. His name. He distinctly heard his name in the sound. The panic lessened at the realisation, enough to allow him to ask, ‘Who are you?’

  The wind howled louder, the call of his name nothing but an echo inside.

  ‘Where are you?’

  Nothing. And then, ‘Adam! Come find me.’

  He knew that voice. It was the voice of the ghost who had talked to him that first day. He spun, trying to find the source of that voice, but there was nothing. Just the noise of howling wind all around him and his brother standing over his body, River bringing back bandages and something else in a kidney dish, and Bron returning from the sink with a wet cloth in her hand.

  ‘Where are you? Where have you gone?’

  His voice echoed in the vast cavern of noise, but apart from the wind, it was the only sound that came back to him.

  ‘Where are you? I need your help. I’ve got no idea what’s happening to me. What’s going on. I need some answers. Come back. You were right. I should have gone with you. I need your help.’ He spun around, desperation a claw in his throat. ‘Please. Don’t leave me here by myself.’

  The wind howled louder. His heartbeat became a loud thump-thump-thump in his ears, so loud he could barely even hear the wind anymore. The burn in his chest was unbearable. He realised he’d stopped breathing. He gasped. Gasped again. It didn’t seem to help. He couldn’t get any breath. No breath. He wouldn’t have thought he’d need to breathe but apparently …

  He scrabbled at his chest, his throat, gasping like a fish. The room about him began to spin.

  His heart thumped hard. Slower. Slower. Stopped.

  He looked over at his body, his brother, Bron, River, reached out to them. They didn’t see him. Would never see him.

  This was it. They’d always been told the Were couldn’t live without their wolves. He’d been torn from his. So this was it.

  He was dead.

  The room spun and darkness rose up around him.

  Chapter 5

  There was horrifying black. Was this what being dead was like? Aware and surrounded by nothing?

  Ah shit! He’d gone to hell. This was hell. At least, it was hell to him. Some people might find peace in being surrounded by nothing, with no sound, no light, no colour—eternal rest.

  It was his worst nightmare. He loved sound. Loved colour and light and the bustle of being around people. He craved their presence as much as he craved touch. And laughter. Smiles. How could he bear an eon of this? What had he done to deserve being sent here?

  Light flooded over him, so bright it pierced his light-starved eyes, a shard of pain in his head. He slammed his lids shut, but it wasn’t enough. The light flared red behind his closed lids. Moaning, he rolled into a ball, his arms wrapped around his head, trying to shield his eyes from the painful glare of light.

  ‘Adam. Adam. You’re okay. Open your eyes.’

  ‘Too bright. Too bright,’ he moaned.

  ‘Sorry.’ The light dimmed a little. ‘Is that better? I haven’t had to do this for a very long time.’

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘Talk to one like you in this place.’

  ‘What place? Who are you?’ This voice wasn’t the voice he’d heard earlier. Richer. Softer and yet somehow piercing him through with its bell-like quality.

  ‘I will explain everything once you lower your hands and look at me.’

  Slowly, he lowered his hands. Opened his eyes. Blinked rapidly against the light. Shadows danced on his retinas, making it impossible to see. He closed his eyes again, lifted his hands and gingerly massaged them. As he did so, he became aware that he was lying on something soft. And gritty. It was cold. He shivered. ‘Where am I?’

  ‘Can you not hear?’

  As she said it, he became aware of the sound of a deep, steady roar that rose and ended with a thump and rush. Waves. Scents began to follow the sound—briny scents mixed with the tartness of electricity and fresh earthiness of growing things.

  A beach. With a storm brewing in the distance.

  ‘Very good. Now open your eyes and see.’

  Cautious, he dropped his hands away. The light wasn’t too bad now. He opened one eye a fraction, opened it further. The foam of waves dumping on the hard-packed sand filled his vision. He opened his other eye. There was grass in the foreground—the kind of tough, thick grass found on sand dunes—and now he had both eyes open, he could see he was a good five metres from the waves landing on the beach.

  He still couldn’t see who was talking to him.

  He rolled over. His muscles spasmed. ‘Fuck.’ He stopped moving, eyes squeezing closed as he tried to deal with the pain. Why did he hurt so badly?

  ‘Because I pulled you from the ether and you weren’t ready for it. Here, this might help.’ There was a slight tinkling sound. A strange sensation, like warm water, rushed through his skin, along his muscles. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. Magic.

  ‘Thanks,’ he managed to pant
as the spasms faded. He relaxed and flopped onto his back, breathing deeply. The tingles of pain drained away. ‘Why did you have to pull me from the ether?’

  ‘It was the only way I could speak to you.’

  ‘And who are you to pull me away from my body? My wolf? My pack?’ He opened his eyes. A woman stood over him, face in shadow.

  ‘Oh, I didn’t do that. That was someone else entirely. I just moved your spirit form from where it was, through the ether and to this place.’

  ‘But why did you do that?’

  She gestured impatiently. ‘I already said. I needed to speak with you.’

  Okay. This was going around in circles. Puffing out a breath, he prepared for pain and sat up. His muscles groaned a little, but nothing more than if he’d gone for a good run. He looked up at the woman. He still couldn’t get a good look at her face, but he could make out her form. She was tall and curvy and dressed in what could only be described as battle armour, and her long golden hair—it was sparking bright in the dim sunlight—hung in a plait over her shoulder. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘I am the Goddess.’

  He laughed, but the sound choked in his throat as he realised she wasn’t joking. ‘Which one?’

  ‘I have many names and many aspects, but the name you best know me by is Arianrhod.’

  ‘The goddess who spoke to Eloise.’

  ‘The very one.’

  ‘Huh.’ What was she doing speaking to him? He wasn’t a witch or warlock. He had no magic. He also wasn’t female. So why was the goddess of fertility and rebirth and the cosmic weaving of time and fate, coming to him now? If any goddess should come to him, wouldn’t it be Cerridwen, goddess of the moon, magic and agriculture? Were worshipped the moon for everything it gave them, so why wasn’t she here instead?

  ‘Cerridwen is my sister. She has been punished enough for helping me in the past. I cannot call on her further.’ There was pain in that statement. He was about to ask why when he realised something else.

  ‘You’re reading my mind?’

  ‘Of course. I am a goddess.’

  Oh, yeah, of course. Why hadn’t he thought of that?