Heart of the Wolf Prince

Chapter 32

We had to be careful with how we handled the information of Macy's arrest. Of course, the king would catch onto us if we exposed his precious Featherfoot, so we had to be smart. Fortunately, there'd been a recent scandal in the kitchens in which copious amounts of moonijuana -- a herb known for inducing a high when smoked -- had disappeared. Alex planted moonijuana in Macy's room, so instead of being trailed spying, attacking, and possibly almost murdering me, she was charged for burglary. The king didn't even bat an eye as he sentenced her to five years in confinement, and Macy didn't even bother to deny anything as she was dragged underground. Apparently, people arrested in the castle itself are made to serve their time in the underground dungeons; a place of darkness and endless moisture. At least, that was how Alex explained it.

I don't feel bad for Macy. Nope, not one bit.

Meanwhile, I've been preparing to spy on the king. I loiter in the hall of that abandoned room, though thankfully nobody passes through here twice so they don't notice my suspicious behaviour. The hall bends four times around in a square, so I spend much of my time pacing the length of it as I wait for the sun to set. I wring my hands nervously and smooth my sweat-slicked fingers down my pants. I've come so damn far, and if I can just pull this off one more time, then we'll have our answers.

It's what I continue to tell myself as the sun sinks closer to the horizon. I look out the window compulsively, itching to head into that room and climb into the rafters. Maybe I should just wait in the room. At least then I can sit down and not feel so light-headed—

"Naomi?"

I whirl, my heart jumping in my chest. It jumps again when I spy Althea lingering just a few feet away, looking unsure in herself. Her brown eyes are wide and cautious, regarding me as though I'm some rabid animal who could lash out at any moment. I peer at the tanned skin of her face. There are no marks from our brawl, but the subtle fear in her expression is enough of a mark for me.

"What are doing here?" I ask, skipping pleasantries. I'm done with formalities, especially when it comes to my sister.

She opens and closes her mouth, as though struggling to find an answer, and I find myself growing more frustrating by the second. I used to fear Althea. But now, the layers of superiority and strength have been stripped away, leaving a weak little woman before me. Now, I find her annoying. The way her stupid hair is always in perfect waves. The way she stands so tall, as though she owns the whole damn place. The way her voice sounds and how her eyes sweep over me. The fact that Kohl probably chose her to be his wife. Yup, all so fucking annoying.

I turn away from her. I decide I don't care what she has to say. It's not like she ever cared about what I had to say, anyway. I take a step away, hoping to put an end to this pointless interaction.

Althea lunges for my arm. "Naomi, wait—"

I spin faster than an asp, pulling my arm away. She looks at me for a moment, slightly bewildered by my sudden action.

"Did he pick you yet?" I hiss, deciding that if I'm going to have to talk to her, then I should at least get some information out of her.

Her eyes darken. "No. He chose Jade. The rest of us have to remain here until the coronation is over."

I jerk as though I've been shot. That surprises me, and now that the words are out, I kind of wish it had been her instead. I have a million things to hate Althea for, but not Jade. Jade's the nice sister. Jade's the sister who somewhat tolerated me, and back then that meant everything. So now I'm wrestling with the urge to not hate her for taking Kohl, and it's proving to be very difficult.

Althea watches me. "If it makes you feel any better, I was shocked too—"

"I'm not shocked," I snarl, glaring up at her through ruby eyes. "And I do not need your fucking condolences. Jade is going to be queen and I'm fucking over the moon for her. Kohl deserves a good woman like her, and that's that."

It's a lie. My chest is aching at the thought of them together, as though cupid himself took his bow and shot an arrow though me himself. Now, he's laughing his ass off at my misery. And as much as I like to think I'm past it, in moments like these there's nothing I can do other than stand there and accept the pain.

Althea stands there for a few moments, seeming to debate something. Then, she takes a step forward. "Look, I'm sorry—"

"Sorry? You're not sorry. You wanted this, remember?" I remind her, thinking bitterly back to that night in the courtyard, right before me and Kohl had our first real kiss. I recall her hateful face through the sheets of rain, glaring at me as though she wished she could smite me where I stood.

Althea's throat bobs. I can tell she feels uncomfortable. Good. I don't want to give her an inch of comfort. If I could, I'd want her to sleep on a bed of nails every night. "Not if I knew you losing Kohl would do this to you. Naomi, you're hurt—"

I bark a cold, humourless laugh. "Hurt?" I ask her. "Hurt? Since when have you cared about my pain, Althea? Need I remind you that you've been the one to cause it many a time?"

Althea looks down. Is that shame? I decide I don't care. "Look, I just... want to help—"

"You want to help me? Then hear me now: get lost."

She dares a glance into my eyes. "But... Naomi, you're breaking."

"Make no mistake, Althea," I say, taking a step towards her. She shrinks back as though I'm towering over her, but really, I fall short by half a foot.

I hold her gaze for a few, long moments. When I can't stand the sight of those awful brown eyes, I look at her forehead. "I do not break. Ever. And people can try, something I'm sure you're familiar with, but they never fracture me. Unlike you, I don't tuck my tail between my legs the moment I've been beaten down. No, I get up. Again, and again and again. So call me weak and broken all you want, sister, but you don't know real strength."

For a few moments, she doesn't say anything. I can see her injured pride at my words in her eyes, but she makes no move to contradict me. Then, she grimaces. "Something's changed in you, Naomi," she says quietly. "Every time I see you, you're colder, and I don't know if it's quite possible but... stronger as well. It's like... it's like I don't even recognise my own sister anymore."

For a few moments, I just stare at her. That fiery beast in me rears her head at those words, and in that moment, I wonder if Althea sees the fire in my eyes. The years' worth of torment and misery, all turned to hate. Her skin pales a fraction.

I lean forward, speaking in her ear so only she can hear. "I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, but your sister is dead," I coo, like a mother consoling her baby. A shudder goes through Althea's body. "And my sister is dead, too. She's dead to me. So, excuse me, but I don't waste time speaking to ghosts."

With that, I turn and stalk away. I don't look back once, because I mean it; Althea is dead to me. As far as I'm concerned, only the phantom of my sister exists at my back. One I never really cared for anyway.

Once I turn the corner of the hall, I glance out the window and curse myself to see it is almost sundown. Before Althea can follow me, I duck into the abandoned room and shut the door behind me. I make a bee-line for the panel and shove it out the way, my anxiety spiking as dust swirls around me. I get on all fours. This is it. This is my one shot at getting the information I've wanted for so long.

And I'd better not fuck it up.