Waindale

In the middle of the library, I lay flat on my back and stare up at the intricate ceiling. Crown molding and other carvings rope along it like white vines and knot together at the center point of the roof. Aimed directly underneath it, I close my eyes and recall what I read in one of the many books I’ve studied from my father’s collection. I couldn’t find any information about teleportation or any sort of traveling similar to the mysterious vanishing he does, but I did read about astral projection, and if there’s a possibility of seeing Adam again, I’m going to give it a try.

I let a wave of relaxation wash over me slowly from my feet, up my legs, over my torso, down my arms and through my neck until lastly, my face relaxes as well. With steady, deep breaths I feel myself sinking into my mind, drowning until it feels like my body is melting into the floor. A sense of isolation takes over, and after a moment or two, I decide to peek. The desire to see Adam is present in my mind, and when I open my eyes, I see him sitting on the edge of our bed, bent over and exhausted. I blink then blink harder.

I peer to my feet and see that they are on the ground, but I can’t help but doubt that they actually are. If I’ve done what I think I’ve done, I should be on the astral plane—the world between the physical and the spiritual, as described in the book.

He can’t see me or pick up my scent, and this goes both ways, yet, despite this, my eyes begin to fill with tears. I hurry to him and fall to my knees. I touch his legs, but he feels nothing. “Adam,” I whisper, “I’m here.”

He suddenly stands and walks to the window. I watch his back tense as he looks out into the night, maybe searching the trees for any sign of me. The bedroom door opens and I instinctively scramble up and step back against the wall. His mother comes into the room. He turns to her.

“I had Yuke put away the leftovers if you want to eat later,” she says, her face forgiving and sympathetic.

Adam says nothing.

“I know you want to go out again tonight, but you have to get some sleep, Adam. She would want you to rest.”

He clenches his jaw. His eyes subtly find her reflection in the glass of the window.

Ester sighs. “She’s with her father. She isn’t lost in the forest—you won’t find her out there.”

“You know nothing about him,” he says.

“I know. But maybe I could if you would explain it to me.”

He swallows. He hardly considers this before telling her to leave him.

She knows about my father then. Well, not much about him, just that I’m with him. Adam must have assumed that he’s taken me.

Ester closes the door as she steps out of the room. I linger from the wall and near my weary mate, hating the fact that he’s tiring himself out, needing him to snap out of it so he can sleep and eat and function. But I know the feeling all too well. It’s not something you can simply snap out of. It consumes you until your bones are licked clean.

“I’m going to get back to you,” I promise. “I-I just don’t know how to without putting you in danger. I don’t know how to escape him. He’s everywhere, all the time. He has these plans for me, and I know there’s no way out, no way out on my own.”

Still aware that he can hear none of this, I tell him, “The baby is safe. My father said I can keep him, but I can’t get him to you. I just—I don’t know what to do. I thought I could save you, but look at you. I don’t even know how long it’s been; I don’t even know where I am.”

Adam wanders from the window and stares down at our bed with hatred. It mocks him.

“Please lay down. Try to sleep, for me,” I murmur. I get onto the bed and lay in my spot, praying that somehow he’ll sense my presence and lay down too. When he sits, I bring my hands to his shoulders and pull him. He comes back, and through the eyes of someone truly there, it simply appears that the poor guy is finally giving in.

Whether I’m capable of such things or not, I go with it and stroke his hair. I mumble again and again that I’m here until it loses all meaning and his eyes are falling closed. I hold him and stay with him for as long as I can before I feel my body calling back to me. After one last drink of his beautiful face, I wake on the hard floor of the library and spring to life as if I’ve been resurrected. I lift up and take in my surroundings, quickly remembering the walls lined with shelves and the cursed pages that fill them.

Desperation claws its way out from within me. I take the book set beside me and throw it across the room, watching as it collides with the others and falls open on the floor. Once one thing is thrown, I can’t hold back. I grab at anything within reach and tear the room apart. The ground smokes under my feet, but flames fail to ignite. My power feeds off my anger and urges me to destroy everything in sight, but once my fit is over, everything returns to its place, mended and seemingly unbroken to begin with. Nothing here is real—I refuse to wait a second longer in this illusion.

I run through the maze, out the door, down the hall, weaving through the house until I come upon two sturdy doors. They lead outside, into the blackness, and just as my hand grabs the handle, a voice from behind startles me.

“We are leaving, Wrenley.”

I turn and face my father in disbelief. As I sip air, I ask, “I’m going back?”

“I am taking you back. It is time for us to return together,” he says.

“Why? Why now?”

“Everything is coming together. Don’t you want to return?”

I nod with my teeth clenched. He reaches his hand out to me and orders, “Take it.”

“Will everything go dark like before?”

“Yes. But you will wake up on Earth.”

“In Waindale?”

His eyes harden. “No. We will not be in Waindale. Now come.”

I stare at his hand and nurse my own against my chest. “Then where?”

“It does not matter where, my child. We must go,” he says and suddenly grabs onto my shoulder. There isn’t even a second to think before my mind shuts off and the darkness envelopes me.

Bits and pieces of the earth tickle the sliver of skin exposed on my stomach. My fingers twitch and stretch and beneath them, I feel dirt. I grab at the frozen ground as if the world is beginning to tip over, and when my eyes finally open, I see a steep incline. When I turn toward the sky, I don’t see it, and instead see the shading canopy of the forest. My mind slowly gathers information until I feel strong enough to push up off the forest floor. I look around for my father but instead hear voices—one of them belonging to him.

I heave myself up with the help of a tree trunk then stumble toward the sounds as my head throbs. Once I spot the three men through the trees, I stop and stay hidden behind one.

“Soon,” One man, rugged and hairy, says to my father.

“And the others?”

“Hiding in the mountains. They are waiting for your call.”

My father nods. “You will be rewarded for your loyalty.”

“And your daughter?” The other man, older, asks. “Is she here?”

“Yes. She is awake now,” he says and turns to me. “Come, Wrenley.”

My mouth snaps shut. Now exposed, I nervously step out of the trees. The two men turn their bodies to me and watch obediently. The forest drops behind them, cut-off by the edge of a cliff.

“Where are we?” I ask my father.

"Demigod,” the older man breathes, mystified.

My brow furrows and my father says, “We will be going into the mountains,” ignoring my question. “Our followers are waiting for us.”

Rogue wolves—our followers. My eyes trail outward, toward the North, and there standing before us is a range of mountains. I can’t help but believe it is the mountain range far away north of Waindale. If I’m right, then I am much closer to home than I expected to be—much closer to Adam.

My father reaches out his hand and I shake my head. “No. Not again. Please.”

“I will carry her,” the rugged man offers, stepping forward.

My father eyes him. “She will be coming with me.”

“Please,” I say again. “I-I can’t. I just woke up—it drains me.”

“My Lord, I can carry the Luna into the mountains on my back. It would be an honor to do so.”

My father’s eyes shift to me. “And where does your loyalty lie?”

“As long as my son is safe, it lies with you.”

My father does not nod or sigh or move at all. He continues to watch me with a blank expression, inhuman and testing.

The older man says, “I will watch over the Luna as well. We will both ensure that she makes her way to the others.”

“Very well,” he says, his haunting gaze unwavering. “But remember, I am everywhere, my child.”

I ride on the man’s back through the forest and into the mountains, gripping the thick fur of his wolf as it climbs. As the beast does all the work for me, my mind runs wild with ideas and plots to get back to Adam. The further north we go, the farther away I get from him, and I need to make my escape before we reach the others. My father’s power gives me plenty to work with, but I lack the speed necessary to out-run their wolves.

It is risky for me to try and escape, especially when my child’s life is on the line. My father could appear at any moment and take him away from me if he sees that my loyalty still lies with my mate.

It doesn’t seem that much time has passed while I was locked away in my mirage of a prison. Winter surrounds us, extinguishing my fear that months have passed. The liveliness of earth is breathed into my body and awakens the human buried inside. My baby feels as if he is growing again, and I sense his soul when my hand caresses the small bump. I want him more than anything, but I worry over what he will become. Half shifter, half—as the older man put it—demigod. I’m scared that he won’t survive. I’m terrified that he will be even more immoral than I am.

When the snowy peaks appear closer than I would like, I straighten up and blurt, “Stop!”

The two wolves come to a rough, staggering halt. They peer back at me, questioning.

“I-I have to go to the restroom,” I say.

The wolf carrying me lowers to the ground. I slide off of its back and motion to the trees. “I’m going over there.”

When I sense their gazes following me, I turn back and order, “Please, some privacy.”

The two beasts look away, and I quickly walk through the trees. My heart beats relentlessly, but the adrenaline pumping through me keeps my mind focused. Soon they will realize that my scent is fading. I pick up the pace and my brisk walk becomes a run. As I hurry, I scoop up dirt and rub it on my skin, trying anything to cover my scent. When I come upon a small overhang, I struggle to climb down and suddenly lose my grip. My body lands roughly, but there is no time to cry over bruises or wounds. I bite my lip and force myself to my feet.

My breaths grow heavy and my eyes indulge in paranoia, constantly looking back, expecting to see the two wolves charging after me. Distant sounds of thumping paws reach my ears, so I try to run even harder.

The flowing, gushing noise of water grabs my attention. I immediately chase after it and stumble upon a river down below. It cuts through the forest, and the ground beneath me breaks way for its powerful current. I have to jump. There is no other way to escape the wolves.

I leap from the short bluff and fall through the air before plunging into the water. My body is swept away and carried off, and there is hardly a chance to breathe.

I’m dunked and drowned in the water, spinning and twirling in its eerie darkness, but I manage to steal gulps of air when I can. The current begins to slow, and its thrashing grip loosens up. My scent is masked under the water, so I let it carry me further, numbed to its deadly cold. The river leads to the ocean, and as long as I am within its hold, my father will stay at bay.

It is when I touch land that I have to confront him.

It is then that I will have to fight.